Fall into you

Chapter Two : Kenzie

 Kenzie was having a monumentally s**t-ass day and it was barely 6:30AM. He swung his legs over the side of his bed, and set his feet onto the hardwood floor, unfortunately for Kenzie he had broken a glass of wine the night before, a shard or two had escaped his determined vacuuming only to lodge, with aching accuracy, in his tender heel.

"Ouch, goddamn glass!" He yelled at the uncaring cream walls of his apartment. He reached for the bedside lamp to assess the damage more closely only to discover, to his wrath, that there was a power outage to crown the painful moment, royally. Kenzie sighed, he had to get to work. He had an appointment with Barry at nine, and Barry seldom took it lightly when he was kept waiting. 

Limping a hobble to the shower, Kenzie resigned himself to a bracing jet of ice cold water--the electricity must have been off for most of the night for the geyser to have cooled as much as it had. His foot stung crazily on the slick tiled floor of the bathroom. Kenzie was not used to struggling, he had installed every luxury in his living space, pity most of it was electronic, including the heated towel rail.

Oh, well no point in self pity, it wouldn't get him to Barry any faster, now, would it?Kenzie toweled his hair in front of the wall sized bathroom mirror looking angrily back at himself, his eyes a darker blue than normal, the shade of his mood. Dark curls dried mopishly, falling about his ears before he tackled them out of his hair with gel and a firm comb. Kenzie hated his boyish curls, he knew they made him look younger, and at only twenty-eight, in his position, he needed all the edge of authority he could muster. Kenzie sighed, again. He felt the day loom like a specter before him, what with such an inauspicious start, nothing boded well for the rest of it.  Kenzie shook the nasty thought from his head promising himself a cup of coffee at the nearest open breakfast bar, bakery or restaurant as soon as he could get out of his power dead place. In the garage, Kenzie clambered speedily into his car. He flicked on the ignition, nothing... The car was dead. Kenzie slammed both hands, hard, onto the steering wheel, jolting the entire car with the force of his frustration. 

Jeez! What next. He bitched silently.

Reluctantly, he searched the shelves of the garage for his jump leads and spare battery, a throw back to his days as a teenager in his father's house. His dad had been the kind of handy man, who always had a quick-fix solution to common, and even some unusual, emergencies. He had taught his son well. Pain of a different quality clenched at Kenzie's chest at the almost palpable image of his dad, his memory had conjured, so instantly. Kenzie bumped life into the battery from the leads then climbed behind the softly purring engine to give leaving another go. 

Out on the road he rolled down the window, a gust of icy air circulated the interior brisling the hairs on his arms invigoratingly, Kenzie adored the cold, but it was really a bit too frozen, even for him, and when the first spittle of a drizzle splattered into his car he wound his window back up, giving in to the mean sparkle the day was dead set on spinning.

Rounding into a slip road, leading to the highway, Kenzie heard the car splutter. Then, he felt it buck under him before it stalled, mid-road, stubbornly. Relieved that the car had managed its death throes before he made it to the highway, Kenzie was not quite as mad at the expensive piece of crap as he ought to have been. He smacked the wheel for the second time that day. Resigned to his carless fate, Kenzie pushed the brand new BMW into the side aisle. Parking it against the pavement, and arming his alarm against would be thieves, he was almost in a second mind to invite to steal the fickle beast, Kenzie set off for the subway. He had to get to work, he knew he could deal with his car later. 

Kenzie hadn't caught a train since his college years.  Quickly, his younger self reminded him of the etiquette of the underground crowd. Kenzie slipped into the throng, paid for his ride, and steadied himself in the car waiting for it to roll. Finally, he felt that the day had righted itself only moments before a delicate looking creature with dark blonde hair, wet over her bony shoulders, barreled onto the train narrowly escaping the doors as they snapped shut. Her face was aglow from the cold, her fragile frame pushing through the mob to find a spot for herself to pass the journey into the city. He contemplated a face that was twisted into a fascinating grimace of frustration which mirrored his own charmingly. He was so taken with the porcelain thing she had going for her that he almost missed the startling fact that she was naked from the waist down, apart from her tiny burgundy panties, that set-off her pale skin, spectacularly. Collecting his shock into an acceptable form of action, Kenzie realized that the woman's stark nakedness, as delectable as it was, was entirely unintentional. Her skirt had come adrift, and was quivering, almost as fetchingly as the girl herself, firmly caught in the jaws of the train's doors. Kenzie, knew his duty, he bravely turned to the woman's aide suddenly glad that he had the opportunity to do something for her before she got away. The thought of her disappearing into the train, of perhaps never seeing her again was incomprehensible.

Kenzie rushed at the scrap of skirt yanking it hard, sadly the damn thing ripped apart making his efforts appear ridiculous. Without stopping to think it through he offered the remnants of the garment to the woman. The last thing he remembered before passing out cold, was the girls horrified look streaming at him from behind her very sharp umbrella.