Tuesday Tales: From the Word NASTY

Spring is almost here! Twelve days to go … I know the weather won’t miraculously change, but the promise of better days ahead is all I need. Welcome to this week’s Tuesday Tales. Our prompt this week is NASTY. Here’s another scene from Sea Breeze. I’m backing up in the story a bit to where Eva first meets our hero, Callum Doyle.

“I am,” the voice came from behind me followed by a rumble of thunder as the skies lit up once more. “What’s the problem, Norm? Who’s doing all the caterwauling?”

I yelped—and peed a little. Where the hell had he come from? How could anyone that size move so quietly?

Behind me, at the top of the steps, stood a mountain of a man, taller than Norm, far broader shouldered, with muscular arms straining the fabric of his shirt, his hands clutching a nasty-looking wrench. He wore coveralls like Norm’s, slightly cleaner, or at least better smelling, and had long, dark, wavy hair, flying around his head in the wind. Visions of an angry Aquaman, aka Jason Momoa, popped into my head. I couldn’t make out his eyes or his features in the waning light, but his stance screamed angry annoyance.

“She is,” Norm pointed at me. Hadn’t his mother taught him it was rude to point? “She’s looking for a bed, and thought she’d find one here. Seems she didn’t think to call first and see if we were open and doesn’t have a reservation. Most places in town are full up. What about the Seafarer?”

“Mom’s booked solid until after Labor Day,” he uttered, his voice anything but friendly.

Mom? This man lived with his mother? Hadn’t Charles Manson lived with his mother?

My brain chose that moment to desert me, and I just stood there, my gaze fixed on the wrench in his hand. Would I feel any pain when he struck me, or would I die instantly?

He came down the stairs and stopped less than a meter in front of me. I gulped, my five-foot, two-inch frame trying to make itself even smaller as his blue eyes pierced me.

A gust of wind grabbed my skirt, and I pulled a Marilyn Monroe trying to keep it from flying up over my head and flashing my ass for all the world to see.

I blinked. Where had the daylight gone? I was stuck in the dark, in the middle of nowhere, with two men who could easily be axe murderers, one of them armed should he choose to use the tool that way. I gulped.

“Is it always this dark before nine at night?” Duh! Could I think of something more ridiculous to ask given my circumstances? I could be just as dead in the dark as in the light.

That’s it. Stay safe and don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales