Vulnerable

ARROW

MIX EMOTIONS played across my girls' faces; exhaustion, satisfaction, motivation, and joy after an hour an half of exercise. It was a great fulfillment on my part to see them participating in this program.

Since I joined my best buddy teaching self-defense classes two years, I wasn't sure if I made the right decision over choosing a personal details job for a self-made billionaire, but so far, I have loved my job.

My fucking ass comrade, Kian chose to train male trainees, while I handled classes for women. I didn't have a problem though-if I was trained to protect my country, how could I not teach women to protect themselves?

"Okay, girls. We're done with the hammer strike. Tomorrow, I will show you how to knee a groin." I faked a grimace. The room quickly filled with laughers from sixteen women--battered wives, divorced, victims of physical assaults by thugs, and others just wanted to protect themselves.

"Thanks, Arrow," they chorused and scattered to dismiss except for a young woman. She was tense, distant, and distracted since I started the training earlier.

"Caitriona?"

She startled and flicked her gaze at me. "Y-yes?" She was the newest member of the group-started last week. Judging by her reaction, she didn't have to tell me what she'd been going through. I'd seen many people like her. It fucking hurt me that as young as nineteen, she had to go through that experience. She was still one of the luckiest people who chose to fight other than hid it in the darkness until it swallowed them whole.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Thank you." She smiled timidly.

I was not entirely convinced. Her eyes said otherwise-the pain and horror are so deep. But I made a promise a long time ago that I wouldn't just stand here and do nothing.

"You know, if you need someone to talk to, I am here, not only as your instructor but as a friend, okay?"

She nodded. "I'm fine. Really. But thanks. Appreciate it."

"Okay then. Take care. See you tomorrow." I walked out of the studio, queasy. I felt that I fail her. To be able to help them, I needed to gain their trust. That was one of my goals. I wanted to help them, but there was always someone who would not easily open up something painful, terrible to someone like me, even to a psychologist.

For fuck's sake. I sounded like a shrink, which was not part of my job, by the way. I just couldn't help it. It was in my nature. There was just a part of me that if I could get to know them, it would be easy for me to teach them how to protect themselves.

From the moment my mother and my sister died in that collision, I was bound to that one purpose-it was to protect. At twelve, my grandmother took care of me, then a year after, she died-all the women in my life just died and left me helpless, and I couldn't do anything about it. Even if it was a part of the cycle of life. It twisted my gut to see someone as helpless as I was.

I hit the shower and let the water into almost freezing cold. Bullets of water hit my skin which made my whole body shiver. It works. It made me numb and forgot the memory of how I left the job that I loved.

After I did my shower, I slipped into my old ripped jeans and black tees. I scrubbed my unshaven cheeks to find two missed calls from Imogen. We grew up together as we passed from foster to foster homes. She didn't call me often, but we never missed at least a message or a meetup in a month. Now, she worried me.

I dialed her number and she picked up as if she was waiting for my call.

"About damn time!"

"'sup, bigfoot?" I could feel her rolling her eyes from the other line. She hated that name, but I thought it fit her. She had ten-size shoes and stood five feet and eleven inches tall-a taller for a woman of my liking. Good thing she was like a sister to me.

"I saw her, Arrow! But I think she didn't recognize me anymore." There was an urgent and panic in her voice.

"Who?"

"I didn't even get a chance to introduce myself because I was about to leave, and I just stood there like an idiot. She was early for her appointment."

"Can you stop for a sec, emoji? Who's her?"

"The girl. Remember when you told me during our high school?"

My brows furrowed. My thoughts scattered. Wait. Oh, fuck! Was Imogen saying the same person? How in the hell did she end up here? Or the right question was, what the hell was she doing in the hospital? I let go of the breathing I had not known I'd been holding. I was suddenly terrified.

When I first saw her in high school, it was odd that I felt something for her. I couldn't get near her without thinking of someone I cared about and felt something mortifying at the same time.

I was torn between grateful and in pain when her family suddenly left. I didn't even get a chance to talk to her because every time we bumped into one another, I ran away like my ass was on fire. Her exit had caused something terrible to me. I thought of her a lot until I ended up jacking off while thinking about her. I felt fucking guilty, devastated, and ashamed of myself.

"Arrow Archer Remington Slate." Imogen's angry voice jabbed me back from my thoughts. "Are you listening? Damn you, dude! You still got it bad, don't you?"

"Sorry, I was a little distracted."

"Obviously," she snapped.

"How did you know it was her? It's been years, emoji."

"She's Brooklyn Paisley, isn't she?" Her name did a flutter down my belly and my heart was in my fucking throat.

Shit!

"Is she okay?" I asked hesitantly, hoping it didn't sound like I was inquiring about something when it was my real intention.

"No. And I can't discuss it with you. I can't break the PBR."

I groaned. "Then what do you hope to achieve? It's not that I can help her, can't I? You are a nurse, and it's your freaking job."

"I just feel bad for her, Arrow. She's not the-"

"Then don't!" I swallowed. Something deep inside me wanted to press what happened to her, to sate my curiosity, but the only person I considered family had no plan on to tell me. "Is that all you can tell me? Fine. I have to go." Before I could end the call, she sighed.

"She's blind, okay?"

My eyes widened. I swallowed the clog of shock down my throat. "What the-? How-?" My jaw clenched. I shut my eyes closed, and suddenly her face sprung into my mind. Her big hazel eyes--those were the only things that made Brooklyn different from her, who had a brown one just like mine.

Shit!

***

I BOLTED up in bed, heaving. The thin sheet was sticking into my sweaty skin.

"Motherfucking world!" I threw my legs out of bed as the ringing of the doorbell never went off. It was probably Imogen, and I would fucking let her clean my apartment for disturbing my sleep. At least, this time, it was not the same fucking terror-filled nightmare I had-not the face of my ex in that fucking explosion or the car crash of Mom and my sister.

Rubbing my tired eyes, I strode toward the door. "Just fucking wait!"

I let go an irritated breath before I unlocked the door and turned back to the kitchen. "Shut the door behind you."

Click

Clack

That sound. My heart stopped in my chest as I froze stiffly like a corpse. Jesus Christ. I swallowed before I turned around. My world was just suspended. My eyes widened at the sight of the woman standing right in front of me. I was stunned to the point that I forgot how to breathe.

ARROW

Holy. Fucking. Shit!

This is impossible!

I HAD NEVER been rendered speechless in my entire life over a woman, until right now. This isn't real. This was just part of my fucking imagination. There was no way she was on my doorstep.

I devoted a few moments to take every little detail about her. Her coffee brown hair was tied loosely. She was still tiny and a foot shorter than my six feet and two inches in height. Brooklyn was always willowy. My gaze flickered down her legs sheathed in skinny jeans and matched with her doll shoes.

I shifted uncomfortably as memories of what I had done to her sprung into my mind. Brooklyn was still beautiful. Stunning. If it was even adequate.

I strolled my gaze back to her small face that almost covered half of it with her immensely huge sunglasses.

Her cute little chin lifted up. "Um, sorry for coming over unannounced."

Oh shit! I just checked her out and forgot to even invite her in. Where are my manners? What was she doing here anyway? And how did she know where I live?

"I'm Brooklyn Paisley." She extended her hand. I know, babe.

I stepped closer to her, still stunned by this whole situation, and until now I had no fucking clue why all of a sudden, she was knocking on my door.

"Arrow Slate." I shook her hand-it was small, soft, and delicate. And enticing. Shit! Heat rushed through my veins, sending directly to my groin.

"A friend of mine said you're looking for a roommate." A friend? A roommate? What the fuck was she talking about?

"You must have knocked on the wrong door. I can't remember I posted somewhere that I am looking for a roommate." As much as I wanted to fantasize about her, I couldn't allow her to stay. And I couldn't take advantage of her because if she would let me, I would definitely do.

I stared at her intently. Imogen was not messing with me when she said Brooklyn was blind. It seemed like she was looking at me but seemingly not.

"Oh, I see. Um..." She fished something in her tote bag, pulled her phone, and tapped the screen. She then commanded, "Dial Imogen Lachlan." Of course. That little rascal.

I frowned and kept my mouth firmly shut as the phone rang. Imogen told me she didn't get a chance to talk to Brooklyn, yet she was here standing at my apartment door and calling her. Just great!

The voice of Imogen came over the loudspeaker. "Hey, Brooklyn is that you?"

I snatched the phone from Brooklyn's hand and spoke to Imogen. "This is Arrow."

"Oh, she found you." Her voice seemed ecstatic.

"Hold on a sec." I looked at Brooklyn. "Please, come in." I closed the door behind her and placed a hand on her back.

She stiffened against my touch.

"I just wanna guide you to my living room," I told her.

"I can use my stick, and I am not completely blind, Arrow." She showed the white cane and started ambling to the couch.

"Sorry. Have a seat." I scratched my scruff, feeling my cheeks heat. "Tell Imogen that I'm gonna talk to her on my number." I gave her back the phone. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"Just water. Thank you," Brooklyn answered.

"Be right back." Before I walked away, I looked at her one more time to make sure I was not dreaming. She was placing her bag on the couch, and her stick was already folded on her side.

I went into my room and realized I was only wearing boxer shorts. I was thankful she couldn't see me, otherwise, that would be inappropriate and awkward for us. She's not completely blind, Arrow, remember? Yeah, fucking great. Heat rushed my cheeks. She just saw me half-naked and half-mast.

I grabbed my phone and found missed calls from Imogen.

"What's this all about?"

"I thought you wanted to help a helpless woman." There was sympathy in her voice, and I felt guilty for snapping at her, but I didn't get why she had to feed Brooklyn some lies.

"Why her? And I already helped a lot, Imogen. And she's not helpless. She can see me."

"I know, but she would be close to the hospital, and at least, I know she's in good hands." Her reasons were not convincing. I could feel in my gut that she had something up her sleeves.

"What else are you not telling me?"

"She came alone and stayed at the hotel. I thought, maybe-"

My brows drew closer, pissed off. "Maybe what? She can use a discount? Why? Doesn't she have someone with her? A boyfriend, a husband maybe?"

Imogen laughed. "Why don't you ask her since she's now your new roommate."

ARROW

"I DON'T THINK I can allow her to stay with me, Imogen. I can't help her. I have work, and I am busy. You're working in the hospital and her nurse. Sort something out, and leave me out of this." I stopped pacing when the weight grew heavier in my chest. I squeezed my eyes shut, groaning.

"I am not her nurse. Come on, brother." The word brother made me sigh because, after all my shits, I still felt lucky to have her in my life.

"I am mad at you right now," I spat out.

"I know, but please?" I could practically see her giving me puppy eyes.

I groaned louder. "Bye, Imogen."

I put my clothes on and brought a bottle of cold water to Brooklyn. She was in the same position as I left her minutes ago, but she looked unbelievably fragile. Vulnerable.

After twisting the lid bottle, I offered it to her.

She muttered thank you. "It's alright. I'll just stay in the hotel before my surgery." She didn't hear my conversation with Imogen, did she?

"Um, no. It's alright. You can stay." Really? You just said not so long ago that she couldn't.

She slowly tipped the bottle to her lips and gulped the water. My gaze landed on her smooth neck. I watched her throat bobbing up and down. I swallowed with her while my hands formed into fists, catching in a massive conflict of emotion in my chest.

She smiled-something in that smile that was different from her smile years ago. "I can sense you, you know."

I realized most blind had extreme hearing than people who had normal eyesight.

"I wasn't expecting to have a roommate," I told her the truth. "When will it be the surgery?"

"In two days. I'm an outpatient." Her head was tipped to the side and seemed like looking at my side.

"I hope you don't mind me asking how did you become blind?" Because the last time I saw you, you were the most enthusiastic and funny girl I'd known. I could even hear your laugh from a distance.

A painful surge rushed through my chest to see this new broken woman in front of me.

What happened to you, Brooklyn?

Resentment flashed all over her face. She shifted in her seat. "Accident."

"I'm sorry. I also lost the people I loved in the accident."

"I'm sorry to hear that," she muttered, smiling tightly.

"It was a long time ago." I looked away. It had been a while since I last talked about my past, yet it still fucking hurt.

Brooklyn took off her sunglasses, and I wasn't ready for it. My jaw clenched. My hands cracked as I balled them into fists. I couldn't almost see the Hazel color in her right eye. It was covered with a white spot in her cornea.

"What kind of accident?" I forced my words out.

"Car." She swallowed. "The lens I wore prevented the shards of glass from penetrating my eyeballs, but due to the strong impact, the contact in my right eye dislodged." Small scars scattered on her face, but they could only be seen when in close distance.

I squeezed my eyes shut, releasing a deep shattering breath. Coldness rippled through me like crackling glass. The image of my mom and my sister in a car crash flashed through my mind. For many times, I wished I was in that fucking accident, and not them because this memory had been haunting me like a curse. People who knew what happened to my family kept telling me that God had a plan and that everything around us happened for a reason.

No wonder she couldn't even force a smile because she'd lost her sight and probably lost someone she cared about in the accident. I couldn't go through snooping her life-she didn't know me the way I knew a little about her years ago. She could probably be married, widowed, or had a boyfriend. She didn't have a wedding band or an engagement ring on her finger, though.

"Where are your things?"

"At the hotel."

"I'll drive you there to get your stuff."

"That would be great. Thank you."

I hoped I would not regret my decision because I would rather hide from Imogen if this would go wrong. By just thinking of seeing Brooklyn again made a thunderous beat in my chest. Being her roommate and being able to see her every day scared the living shit out of me.

How could I ever look at her without thinking of something dirty? How could I keep my hands off of her? When for years, she occupied half of my brain. Right now, she had grown into a beautiful, attractive woman, and I already had trouble with a turbulent and jumble of conflicting emotions, and my self-control would definitely fail, and my world would crumble down with it.