―Taylor Swift
Out of Bounds
I'm feeling more positive than I've felt in a long time. The research project is moving along well and I'm looking forward to experimenting on myself and hopefully recovering some lost memories.
Sure, I feel a little guilty about taunting Sylvia but it gives me great pleasure to know that Sloane Kettering will be vexed by the progress we're making.
I'm so confident about where we are, I'm going to take the evening off. I'll go for a jog and then come home and order in―maybe drink a little wine and toast my success.
I change into my jogging gear and am out the door in under five minutes.
There's a lot of foot traffic, people out enjoying the fresh air, walking dogs, so I veer onto the nearby Bruce Trail, preferring a path less travelled.
In no time at all, I fall into an easy rhythm and turn off my mind and become one with nature.
I'm surprised, despite not having jogged for weeks, I'm still in good condition. Maybe it's not runner's high but the exhilaration of success that's energized me.
I experiment with a wind sprint and find I could probably run flat out for several minutes―that's good, remarkable even, considering my recent lack of exercise.
I toy with the idea of sprinting all the way home when I suddenly become aware of a menacing figure waiting for me at the bend up ahead. I immediately stop and sprint as fast as I can in the opposite direction, but when I come round a second bend, there's an even more intimidating shape blocking the path ahead of me.
I'm trapped.
The huge shape looming ahead of me begins advancing toward me and I can see it's a burly red-headed man who is staring at me with a grim look on his face.
I swivel around only to find the figure behind me is an equally imposing thug who's smiling at the thought of pummelling me.
He utters a short, raspy laugh. "You shouldn't walk alone, Professor, unless you can handle yourself."
"What do you want?" I demand.
"The man rubs the knuckles on his right hand. "We want to put a little cramp in your plans."
The red-headed man behind me growls, "C'mon Bert, let's take care of him and get out of here."
He grabs my shoulders in a vice grip that almost brings me to my knees .
The agony is so severe I close my eyes against the pain.
But then suddenly it's gone and I open my eyes to Sarah staring at me.
Bert is out cold with Ross looming over him and the red headed man is rubbing his neck, slumped down at Sarah's feet.
I sway and feel faint, but her arm around my waist steadies me. "I think I should you get home," she whispers.
Several uniformed police appear and take custody of the men.
I lean into Sarah and inhale the fragrance of her perfume. I can probably walk on my own but I let her hold me..all the way home.
When we get in the door, she sternly orders me to sit down. "I'll make coffee," she calls over her shoulder.
She's familiar enough now with the layout of my house and is probably equally familiar with me.
I lean back and close my eyes feeling sheltered and safe from all harm.
In a few minutes she's back with steaming mugs and sits down on the couch beside me.
"How are you feeling―is your shoulder still aching?"
"No, the burning is gone. That guy's hands could probably twist an iron bar like a pretzel."
Her eyes suddenly blaze with fury."What the hell were you thinking, Cole? Didn't I tell you to take precautions and not put yourself into dangerous situations? You could have been killed."
I blink at her in surprise. Her jaw is set and she looks incensed enough to do me damage.
"I'm sorry, I was feeling good today about the project and I guess I just got carried away."
"You almost were carried away on a stretcher. Don't you know the danger you're in―do you think Ross and I camp out every night on your street because we like you? You have a security detail because you need one―people want to harm or kill you. What does it take to jerk the slack out of you?"
My face fell. I was honestly shocked at my stupidity.
She could see it in my eyes―I didn't know how much danger I was in. I just thought I was being thwarted, not threatened.
"I don't know what the hell you're researching, but obviously it's significant enough for someone to go to a lot of trouble to either steal your secrets or stop you. Think about that next time you feel like a jog. We're here to serve and protect but we're not a convenience or a safety net in case you slip."
I colour with embarrassment. "Sarah, I'm...I'm really sorry. It was stupid of me. I don't blame you for being angry―I'm angry at myself."
She leans toward me and I'm certain she's going to hit me but instead she kisses me, hard and forcefully.
Before I can respond she gets up and stomps out calling back over her shoulder
"You're a hurtbag, Guy―don't ever put me in this position again."
With that parting shot, she's gone, leaving me with a lukewarm coffee, a bruised lip and a dented ego.
The girl loves me, I console myself and lean back with closed eyes relishing the passion of her kiss.
Of course, I'm confused, to the point where nothing makes much sense, but I've been deprived of success so long, I'll take it in whatever shape it presents.
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