PART OF HER WORLD

CHAPTER 2

“Hey you’re going to be okay, three are gone you don’t have to be scared,” a rich deep voice said. “You’re shivering.” He covered her with something warm, damp, as well as smelly. A shirt she figured as her fingers trailed over the material's edges and they traced the buttons as she fumbled to cover herself. His hand gently helped her to stand. The man stank to the high heavens of garbage and she figured he might be a homeless person. The shirt he draped over her came to just about her knees, the long arms hung several inches past her fingers. If the shirt actually fit him properly, he would have to be at least six feet or more and large.

Sophia was still scared as he guided her along a hard cement path. Her sandals scraped against the rough surface as she tried to walk on her wobbly legs. His grip, even though gentle, was tense and sweaty on her arm through the thin material of the shirt sleeve as they walked.

"We need to get you to the hospital," he said almost sternly.

 “I’ll be ok, I just need to go home,” the man stopped in his tracks as he gently held her arm, his hand trembled.

 “They were going to hurt you, they were going to ... you know,” he stammered the last words.

"No, really I'm ok. I just want to go home.” She realized how shaken she was and he most likely had picked up on her voice cracking as she spoke.

Sophia was humiliated enough without going to a hospital and having to tell a doctor what happened. They would call the police and then they would want her to retell her story. It's not something Sophia wanted to talk about to anyone. The whole incident made her feel incapable of taking care of herself and she hated feeling like this.

 “Where do you live?" he asked.

“I ... I live nearby," she told him not wanting to give him her address.

“I have a truck, I can take you there. They don’t have a car but if you walk they might follow you," he said and her heart flopped.

Sophia’s alarm welled up again within her. Now afraid that he might hurt her, might be luring her somewhere quiet, where he could take his time with her. The paranoia grew in intensity as she remembered they spoke to one another by name. Those men were people he knew.

“You know them," she exclaimed as if that connection alone made him a potential threat.

Sophia wanted to run, fear over ridding her other senses.

“I’ve only seen them around here a few times. That doesn’t make me like them," he said as if he sensed her tension.

“What’s your name?" she asked him, her voice still trembling.

“Asher Lincoln and I work here at the park as one of the groundskeepers," he told her.

She knew he was right-handed by which side he took a hold of her arm. That meant his nametag would be on the left-hand side of his shirt. Sophia’s fingers traced the left chest side of the shirt. Sure enough, she discovered a nametag and she ran her fingertips over the grooves in the hard plastic. Decrypting the lines took a few moments but she could make out part of his last name and the letters fit. Since being blind, she’d learned to hone her other sense better to aid her in her day-to-day life. Although she was still not great at it.

The stench of garbage on him now made sense and so did the slight odor of cleaners. 

“I can take you home or to the hospital or to the police station but I can’t leave you here by yourself," he told her.

His words sounded sincere and there was a hint of concern in his voice. Sophia didn't want to risk going home by herself. She wasn't about to go to the police either. Calling her best friend, Margret would mean having to tell her what had happened, and Margret would demand she go to the authorities. Taking a chance on a complete stranger didn't exactly sit well with her either. However, he had saved her, had scared off her attackers, and rescued her.

“Alright, I’ll let you drive me home," she told him.

“Good, come on this way, my truck is parked at the shed," he said, and she let him guide her.

“What’s your name?" he asked as they walked.

“Sophia Williams," she told him, she’d used her maiden name for over two years now even though she and Jason were not yet divorced.

“Do you want your cane? I have it and your duffle bag," he asked her. His voice sounded deep but soft at the same time.

Taking a second to calm her nerves as she took her cane, she could sense the man eyeing her over. She didn’t need to be able to see to imagine what she must look like.

* * *~~~* * *

Asher helped her into the truck. She was not as shaky as she’d been. Once he was in he pulled his cell phone off the dashboard. He had to fire off a quick text to let Dave know why he was going to be late. Leaving out the fact that Max, Rick, and Eric had been the ones trying to attack the girl he was now trying to help. Rats got killed in jail, the halfway house really was no different. Even though the house had strict rules the men were supposed to follow, it was obvious not all of the supposed reformers obeyed those rules.

“So where do you live?”

“1923 Humphrey's lane.”

 He would be late for curfew if he didn’t get his ass in gear and he rushed the drive to the address Sophia gave. He glanced sideways at the woman on the seat next to him as he drove. He had no doubt of what they would have done to her if he hadn't been there. The thought left a gnawing, burning anger in the pit of his stomach.

Pulling into the paved driveway, he noticed there were no lights on in the well-kept old farmhouse. The two-story white clapboard home had a wrap-around veranda with a swing and two rocking chairs sitting just off to the left outside the door. Several large flowerpots filled with bright pink flowers adorned the edge. One of the larger ancient maple trees that dominated the immaculately kept lawn had an old tire swing hanging from it. The place even had a white picket fence.

After he parked the truck, he helped her to get out since the sidestep was somewhat high and he didn’t want her to fall.

“Let me help you," he told her and carried her bag as she tapped the ground in front of her with her white cane.

“Thank you, Mr. Lincoln, I’m lucky you were there," she told him as they reached the front door.

“Call me Asher and I’m glad I was there to help," he said as she opened her door and the lights came on inside automatically.

Stepping inside, he placed her stuff on the floor beside the closet and gave her a once over. Now that she stood in the bright lights of her home, he could see her better. She wore no makeup and her natural beauty astounded him. She’d a splash of freckles across her cheeks and her big green eyes sparkled in the light. With plump lips and a button nose, she reminded him of one of the angel figurines he bought all the time for his niece Hallie. Sophia had nicely tanned and shapely legs, which seemed to go on and on.  Her figure was lost in his near tent-like gray shirt. The way the material revealed just enough of everything made her even more attractive. Her hair was a lovely red, which fell to her waistline in cascading waves. The desire to touch her silky looking locks wandered into his thoughts.

There was a stirring in his pants, it had been a long time since he’d been with a woman. As he eyed Sophia over, he wanted to know her more intimately. He thought this was an odd sensation for him, given the circumstances in which he found her.

“If you give me a minute I can give you back your shirt," she told him.

“It's ok, I have another one…I really have to go," he told her, not wanting to leave.

“Well at least let me make you a coffee or something,” she smiled, “After all, you did save me."

“No I can’t stay I have to get to the … get home," he said and turned to leave.

“Thank you again," she said, and he didn’t dare turn around and look at her.

He didn’t want her to know he was a parolee, the thought that she might see him as a good guy was more comfortable. Even though he knew he wasn't, not after the things