“Yeah, yeah. Thanks a lot. Appreciate it. Go!”

Annie flopped into the kitchen chair, tipped it back and put her bare feet up. She smiled with a bit of satisfaction, knowing she was probably the first and only person to have a body part other than maybe an elbow on Chloe’s expensive table.

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you that you could crack your head open doing that?”

Annie let out a yelp and the chair toppled backwards onto the hand-laid Italian tile. She saw stars bursting in the darkness behind her eyes and blinked rapidly to clear them. “Fuck!” she swore, rubbing the back of her head and rolling off the chair onto the floor. Her head was tender and already swelling, and she thought she could feel the wetness of blood. “I think I’m bleeding. Who’s there?

Where are you?”

“Right here. Are you okay? I’m sorry.”

Annie saw the shadowy figure move out from underneath the kitchen table.

“I don’t know if I’m okay. I think I’m bleeding.” She tried to stand but immediately felt woozy again and had to sit. She rubbed the swelling on the back of her head, wondering how bad it really was. “Could you turn on the light, please?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t do that,” he replied, steadying her with a hand on her arm. It was a warm hand, large, with a firm grip.

“Gee, thanks, buddy. Fine, I’ll do it myself.” Annie sighed and started to stand again. His hand on her arm kept her from moving.

“No, please, don’t.” It was a request, but it didn’t sound like one.

“Why? I think I’m really hurt.”

“Here, let me see.” His hands were in her dark hair, moving over her scalp, finding the aching knot and massaging it. At first, she winced and pulled away, but then let him continue. God, it’s been too long since someone touched me like this.

“You’re not bleeding,” he assured her.

“How can you tell? It’s too dark in here. Let me turn on the light, and-”