And Then He Saved Me Read online

  And Then He Saved Me

  By

  Red Phoenix

  And Then He Saved Me

  Copyright 2012 by Red Phoenix

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental.

  Adult Reading Material

  Disclaimer: The material in this book is for mature audiences only and contains graphic sexual content. It is intended only for those age 18 and older.

  CONTENTS

  The Rescue

  Her Confession

  His Secret

  Complications

  Comfort and Pleasure

  Midnight Passion

  About the Author Red Phoenix

  And Then He Saved Me

  ***

  The Rescue

  It would be so easy. Just a quick step into oblivion. Time it right and the subway would carry her away. It would be quick.

  Lauren stared at the track. Would her mind have time to register pain when it hit? She dropped her purse when she heard the rumble of the approaching cars. No more pain, that’s all she wanted. She looked down the gloomy tunnel. She stepped to the edge when the lead car breached the dark opening. Lauren closed her eyes.

  “Excuse me,” A gentle hand touched her bare arm. “Miss, you’re too close to the edge. You need to step back.”

  His smooth voice required her attention. Lauren opened her eyes and stared at him. Her savior wore greasy overalls and an ironed-on patch that read, “Cyril.” He was a large, burly man with muscular arms, dark Mediterranean skin, and gentle black eyes. When she didn’t move, he pulled her against him to avoid the train as it pulled up.

  The air turbulences whipped her long hair around. Lauren stood there in a daze, her mind slowly accepting that she was still alive.

  “That was too close,” he commented, letting go of her. He picked up her purse and handed it to her. Lauren automatically took it from him, but stumbled from the weight of it. He immediately grabbed onto her elbow as support. “Are you okay?”

  Lauren’s sluggish mind converted his words and she repeated. “Yeah… okay.”

  The doors opened and the large man got onto the train, holding out his hand to her. Lauren stared at him unmoving. Just before the doors closed, he jumped back off. “You’re not okay.”

  “No.”

  He gently took her arm and led Lauren out of the subway, walking her to a small diner across the street. Lauren sat down listlessly. “Cyril” ordered two coffees and a piece of pie.

  “What’s your name?” he asked after the waitress walked away.

  “Not important.”

  “Yes, it is.” With a commanding tone, he asked again, “What is your name?”

  “Lauren Bell.”

  He nodded and smiled, obviously pleased that she was responding. “Lauren Bell. That’s a beautiful name.”

  She stared at the cup and saucer the waitress put in front of her, but she didn’t make a move towards it. Without asking, Cyril put two spoonfuls of sugar in her cup and stirred in a little cream, pushing it towards her. “Nothing warms the soul like a hot cup of joe.”

  “Sure,” she said dully.

  He reached over and took her small hand in his. The man asked in a quiet tone, “Lauren, were you trying to kill yourself back there?”

  She glanced away and stared at a prissy businesswoman hassling their waitress over a dirty spoon. The waitress immediately replaced it with an apology and a smile, but the woman wasn’t satisfied. Lauren shook her head in disgust and looked down at her lap.

  “No comment,” she finally answered.

  Cyril squeezed her hand and said simply, “You matter.”

  She turned back towards him and said matter-of-factly, “Nobody would have cared.”

  “I would have.”

  Lauren rolled her eyes and returned her gaze to the self-absorbed woman in the business suit. She was arguing with the manager over the stupid spoon, humiliating the waitress over something so unimportant.

  “Leave me alone, Cyril.”

  “I am not the kind of man who sees someone in need and walks away.”

  She growled under her breath, “I don’t need anyone.”

  Cyril was silent. Lauren only heard the clinking of his spoon against the ceramic cup as he stirred his coffee with conviction.

  The waitress came to the table, placing the pie in front of Lauren with a wink. “You look like you could use some pie.” Her kindness after being shamed by the businesswoman touched Lauren’s heart in ways she could not have imagined.

  “Thanks.” The waitress nodded and gave another wink to Cyril before leaving the table.

  Lauren glanced briefly at the man across from her. Cyril looked quite a bit older than she was. He was grimy from a hard day’s work; something she respected. What struck her most was the aura of kindness surrounding him, which softened his imposing stature. Overall, Cyril seemed safe - which was not what she wanted.

  She turned her attention back to the pie with a mountain of whip cream on top and her lips twitched. Lauren took the spoon and scooped up a mound of it. She turned the spoon upside down and slid it across her tongue. The sweet creaminess calmed her nerves as only whip cream could. “Mmm…”

  Cyril looked amused, but said nothing. He slurped his coffee noisily instead. She couldn’t tell if he was trying to be funny, but she found it endearing and smiled to herself. After all the whip cream was gone, Lauren pushed the pie away. She looked Cyril in the eye and asked, “Why did you do it?”

  “Do what? Pull you from the edge?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You would have been killed.”

  “So?”

  “You are far too young to end that way.”

  Lauren twirled a strand of her long brown hair. “You may think you’re a big hero or something, but the fact is I’m still here. I’m still in pain.” She got up from the booth and started walking towards the door.

  Cyril jumped up and followed behind her, yelling at the waitress, “Money’s on the table.”

  Once they were outside, she tried to make a quick escape but he grabbed her arm in a vice-like grip.

  “Let me go!”

  “No.”

  “Do you want me to scream bloody murder?”

  “You won’t,” he said confidently.

  She growled and tried to shake him off. “You did your big rescue. It’s over. Let me go.”

  “Where are you headed?”

  Lauren said nothing. She was going to end her pain tonight, one way or another.

  “I see. Then you’re coming with me.”

  She struggled more violently against him. “No, I’m not.”

  “I’m not leaving you alone, Lauren.” Cyril started pulling her back towards the subway. She planted her feet and tried to jerk away from him. He continued forward unfazed, her small stature no match against his hefty one. People began staring at them.

  Lauren didn’t want the attention so she reluctantly followed Cyril, determined to run the moment he loosened his grip.

  Her Confession

  They jumped onto the next available subway train. Unfortunately, a menacing group of young thugs occupied the car. Normally Lauren had no problems on the subway, but the men reacted aggressively towards Cyril. “What are you doing with that white chick, terrorist? Get your hands off her, now!” the leader of the gang demanded.

  Cyril let go of Lauren, “We’ve got no problems here, buddy.”

  The youth advanced towards them. “What is an old pervert like you hanging on a young white girl for anyway?” His subordinates followed behind him threateningly. The rest of the people
in the car remained where they were cautiously observing the scene, but choosing not to get involved.

  “We’re friends,” Cyril answered, moving between Lauren and the group.

  The leader gestured lewdly towards Lauren. “A raghead can’t give you what you need. But I can, baby.”

  Lauren glared at him. She hated bigots. “This is my boyfriend and he gives me more than you ever could.” She tiptoed, wrapping her arms around Cyril’s substantial neck and kissing him on the mouth. Despite the dire circumstances, Lauren couldn’t help noticing how soft and warm his lips were.

  The gang leader stopped in his tracks. “You’re fucking the terrorist?”

  Cyril stared at Lauren in shock and then turned towards the approaching group stating loudly, so the whole car heard, “I’m Greek, you ignoramus.”

  The leader looked at Lauren in disgust. “Giving it up to an Arab, huh? You fucking little ho!”

  Cyril moved towards him threateningly. “Shut your mouth, before I make you!”

  Lauren couldn’t help smiling. She’s never had a man defend her honor before. “It’s okay, Tiger,” she purred, placing her hands on his broad chest and looking up at Cyril innocently. “I can’t hear what those boys are babbling about anyway.”

  Luckily, the train pulled up to the next stop. Cyril quickly jumped off and held out his hand for her. Lauren hadn’t planned on sticking with him, but she jumped into his arms without a second thought. She looked back at the gang of ruffians and stuck out her tongue. “Have fun playing with yourselves, boys.” The leader lurched towards her just as the doors closed.

  “Do you have a death wish?” Cyril asked and then immediately followed up with, “Yeah, of course you do.”

  Lauren felt slightly guilty. No matter how much she wanted to end her own life, she had no right to endanger his in the process. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

  Cyril gave a low barrel laugh that shook his whole frame. “It was worth seeing the look on their faces.”

  She smirked, “I couldn’t stop myself. I detest bigots.”

  “And he didn’t even get the race right.”

  Lauren looked up at Cyril and studied him carefully. “How old are you anyway?”

  “Thirty-three. What about you?”

  “Twenty-one.”

  “Whoa, that’s young.”

  “How old did you think I was?”

  “I don’t know. I hadn’t given it any thought until ‘Arian-nation’ said something about it. But I have to admit, you and I must look strange with me being so much older and obviously unrelated to you.”

  Lauren gave a snorting laugh. “Yeah, at first I thought he was trying to save me from you, but then I realized he had more sinister intentions.”

  Cyril stopped in his tracks. “I would never hurt you, Lauren. You know that, don’t you?”

  “Yes, your kiss was too sweet to be that of a killer.”

  The brawny Grecian’s cheeks reddened like a girl’s. It seemed adorably wrong. “I wasn’t expecting you to kiss me. I would never take advantage of you like that.”

  “You don’t hear me complaining, do you? It was…nice.”

  Cyril changed the subject. “My apartment isn’t far from here. I was thinking you could call someone to pick you up.”

  “No, that’s okay. I’ll just find my own way home.”

  He took her hand in his and started walking. “Yeah, I don’t think so. Your idea of home includes a hole in the ground and that is not okay with me.”

  Lauren mumbled something he couldn’t hear. When he asked her to repeat it, she ignored him. They walked for another fifteen minutes in silence. Lauren had to laugh at herself. Her original plan had been to run away the first chance she got. Instead, she was following Cyril home like an obedient puppy.

  His apartment was in an older neighborhood. The area wasn’t rundown yet, but it was easy to see that in a couple of years it would be. The rent had to be cheap, so she figured he must be barely scraping by – just like her. Cyril led her up to his apartment, a one room flat with a tiny kitchen in the corner, a bed on the opposite end and a couch and TV in the middle.

  He watched her expression as she examined the place. “Yeah, I know. It isn’t much but with just me, I don’t need any more. Rather save my money for the future, you know?”

  Lauren shrugged her shoulders. She didn’t really care what his place looked like, but she was grateful it was clean. Cyril pointed to the phone. “Go ahead and call. I’ll make us some coffee while we wait.” She grimaced and sat down on the couch rather than picking up the phone. Lauren was surprised to hear the squeal of a latte machine coming from his tiny kitchen area. Cyril brought a mug over to her with a self-satisfied grin. “Better than Starbucks. My little luxury.”

  “Your own espresso machine? Wouldn’t have guessed.” She took a sip of the smooth dark roast and smiled despite herself. “This is better than SB.”

  Cyril sat down next to her on his lumpy russet couch. “Why haven’t you called anyone yet?”

  Lauren twirled her hair tightly around her finger, cutting off circulation. Finally she answered, “There’s no one to call.”

  “Don’t you have family?”

  She groaned. Lauren didn’t want to get into it, so she kept it simple. “Dad died when I was eight. Mom died…six months ago.”

  Cyril took her left hand and sandwiched it in-between his huge ones. “I am very sorry to hear that, Lauren.”

  “Yeah, well who cares?”

  “I do.” He squeezed her hand before gently putting it back down on the couch. “Drink.”

  She obediently took another sip and sighed inwardly. He was right; coffee was good for the soul.

  “Lauren, I’d like to know what happened to your mother.”

  She took several more sips before she answered. “Cancer. She died of breast cancer.”

  “What a devastating loss for you.” She could hear sympathy in Cyril’s voice and it unnerved her.

  Lauren felt the tears coming and quickly stood up, moving to the nearest window before they fell. She blinked rapidly several times to regain control before speaking again. “I spent the last year with my mom. She was a fighter, never gave up. Not even at the end.” Lauren saw a group of kids playing kickball in the street. Mom would have been down there joining them, she thought to herself.

  She turned away from the window and looked back at Cyril. Lauren kept her voice level and matter-of-fact. “After she died I moved here for a fresh start, but I’ve failed miserably.”

  “Don’t you have siblings you can lean on?”

  “Nope. Only child of only children.”

  He shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t even imagine that. I have a large extended family consisting of over a hundred people. They are constantly getting into my business and screwing up my life. I have often wished I was an only child.”

  Lauren frowned. “Well, it sucks. I’m all alone in the world.”

  Cyril walked over to her. She felt the warmth of his presence, but he made no move to touch her. “Not all alone,” he said quietly.

  She grunted, refusing to look at him. “You don’t even know me. It doesn’t count.”

  “I’ve noticed you at the subway station before. You always seem so focused and driven. You never look around, because you’re thinking so much. I’ve often wondered what kind of business you run.”

  “Well, looks can be deceiving. I’m just a waitress. Wait, let me rephrase that. I was a waitress.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She forced herself to say out loud the terrible truth. “I got fired today. Another waitress accused me of stealing her tips. I didn’t, I never would stoop that low.” A sob bubbled out from deep within her. “But not one of them believed me…”

  Cyril enclosed her in his arms and then kissed the top of her head. “I believe you.”

  She melted into his arms. He smelled of manly sweat and car grease, but Lauren didn’t mind. She reveled in the sense of
peace he brought to her soul. Cyril led her back to the couch and held her for several minutes. Lauren wanted to curl up in his lap, needing to feel even closer to him. But when she tried, Cyril immediately scooted off the couch. “I bet you’re hungry. I know I’m starving.”

  His discomfort would have been comical if she hadn’t needed him so. It hurt that he wanted nothing to do with her. “I’m not a child,” she stated resentfully, while he rummaged through his small refrigerator.

  “I know you’re not.”

  “Then why are you treating me like one?”

  He stuck his head out of the fridge. “What are you talking about?”

  “Just now.”

  He shut the door of the fridge. “Look, Lauren. You’re much younger than I am. Plus, you’ve been through a lot today. Your emotions are raw. It would be easy to do something you’d regret. I don’t want that for you. It’s not why I brought you to my place.” Cyril turned to his tiny stove and ignited the burner, whistling as he focused on grilling the sandwiches he assembled.

  Lauren sat on the couch and scrutinized him. Cyril was attractive in a rustic sort of way. Truly, he was a bear of a man at least two and a half feet taller than her 5’ 2” frame. He seemed all muscle under those greasy overalls. His dark eyes were friendly, but the angular contours of his face gave an edge to him, a hint of something dangerous underneath. It made watching him cook sandwiches on a little stove humorous. She had to hide her smile when he came back with a plate for her.

  “Melted cheese is almost as soothing as a good cup of coffee,” he said, handing her a grilled ham and cheese.

  “I don’t usually eat meat,” she announced.

  “A meal without meat is a travesty,” he countered. “Now eat.”

  Lauren picked up the hot sandwich and watched in delight as long stings of cheese pulled apart from it. “I do love gooey cheese,” she told him before taking her first bite. Lauren was surprised to taste a burst of spicy heat. “What else is in here?”