The Stranger

CHAPTER 1 

“You know we shouldn't be here.” Camilla spoke as she scanned the party scene from the loft.

The party lights pulsing, the music thundering through the speakers, had everybody dancing and grinding against each other. Each face clad with a mask, the waiters were not an exception as they weaved through the tight crowd, trays held high.

“Party pooper,” Ruby snorted, swirling the contents of her glass. “Don't act as though you work harder than everyone here. Not as though you have somewhere important to go to tomorrow.” She took a sip, then added with a hint of venom, “Just that miserable bakery of yours that has never made us a dime since we started it.”

“I'm not a party pooper.” Camilla shot back, bristling from the jab. Some things are just more important than others.”

“You are a killjoy.” Rub retorted, looking away from Camilla, her eyes scanning the crowd, “Not to think that we might meet a rich guy that could change our lives forever, and we wouldn't have to work aimlessly in that miserable bakery of yours.”

“For your information, I'm not…”

“Shush!” Ruby interrupted, her eyes narrowing. “I spy a hottie.”

Following her friend's line of sight, Camilla sees that she is practically undressing a young man with her eyes.

“If you would just stand here and watch, then make yourself useful,” She shoved her sling back into her hand. “Hold my bag,” she said, her eyeballs clinging to the man. Before Camilla could protest, she plucked a drink from a waiter's tray and sashayed to her target.

Camilla rolled her eyes so hard at her friend that she was surprised that her eyeball didn't get stuck in her skull. She turned away from Ruby's hunting grounds, focusing instead on the rest of the party, when she felt a chilly palm grapple on her arms and whirled her around. Camilla found herself face-to-face with a man whose eyes sparkled with an odd mix of desperation and charm. He was breathing heavily, constantly glancing over her shoulder.

Despite her irritation, Camilla couldn't help but notice his striking features. "Hey," she said, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Is there a problem?" 

“Uh... Can I kiss you?” the young man asked, his voice urgent, and Camilla's face tightened into a frown. She pushed against his chest, and he winced.

“Hell no, buddy, not...” She stopped mid-sentence when she noticed a crimson stain on his white shirt. "Wait, is… is that real blood?” she stammered.

He nodded, his eyes darting nervously towards the staircase. Following his line of sight, Camilla saw several men ascending the stairs, brandishing axes and daggers. They were roughly checking the mask of everyone they passed.

"And you're running from them?" she asked. He nodded again.

The menacing group was almost at the top of the stairs when Camilla made a split-second decision. She pulled the stranger against the wall and locked her lips with his. He stiffened for a moment before relaxing into the kiss, his expertise surprising her. As far as kisses went, this one was definitely making her top ten list.

When the hoodlums passed by, she broke the kiss. “Follow me,” Camilla said, dragging him behind her. She plucked a bottle of gin from one of the tables and headed to the backyard.

The chilly night breeze welcomed her as she strode outside, causing her hair to stand on end. She dragged him to a secluded corner. “Sit.” She ordered, and he sat, “You need to pull off your shirt; let me check your wound.” As he gingerly peeled the shirt off his broad shoulders, Camilla uncorked the gin.

Her mouth fell open when her eyes fell on his smooth, tanned, muscular chest and washboard stomach. Hot! Like smoking hot! She shook herself out of the reverie and all the wicked things her evil little mind was already planning. Focus, she chided herself. 

The wound was on his right chest, and it looked deep. “This might hurt a little,” she warned, and reached to pour the gin.

“Wait,” he said and grabbed the vodka from her and took a quick gulp and handed it back to her. “Go on.” 

He winced a little when the gin was poured over his wound. She untied her scarf and pushed her makeshift bandage against the wound, and he slid his hands over hers to hold the scarf in place.

"I think you'll be okay," she said, trying to ignore the warmth of his touch. "Let me grab a proper bandage. I'll be right back before you know it. Okay?"

“Anything you say, Doc,” he joked, and a small smile was playing at the corner of her lips as she stood up.

When she walked back into the party, he noticed a card had fallen from her purse. He snatched it from the floor and looked at it. It was a college student's ID card. He put it in his pocket.

“Search the area,” he heard a gruff voice in the near distance. He pocketed the I D card and rose to his feet with urgency, jumping over the fence and running for his life.

When Camilla came back, the man was gone. She wondered what had happened to him and if he was safe. She felt worried and a little disappointed that he had left without saying goodbye. Part of her hoped she might see him again someday, even though she knew it was unlikely.

Camilla looked around the quiet backyard, still holding the bandage she had brought for him. She sighed, realizing how strange and exciting the evening had turned out to be. It was definitely not the boring party she had expected when Ruby dragged her here.

Speaking of Ruby, Camilla wondered if she should go find her friend. But knowing Ruby, she was probably having the time of her life flirting with that guy she spotted earlier. Camilla decided to give her a few more minutes before going back to give her back her purse, so she can go back to the bakery.

She looked down at her friend's bag hanging loosely around her shoulder, open. She zipped it, hoping nothing had fallen off of it.

Unknowing to her that the stranger had picked up her friend's card.