"Take it easy," Mira said, as she watched Kevin make his way down the hall to his apartment.
"Mom, if I move any slower, I'll be going backwards."
"I know. Sorry."
He smiled as he unlocked the door and stepped aside to let her enter first. The place was just as he remembered it. Not surprising since I've only been gone a short time, although it seems much longer.
She put her small suitcase down by the door then looked around before pointing to the sofa. "Sit."
He carefully eased down onto it, saying, "At least someone got my laundry," when he saw the basket sitting on the table. He was sure it was his landlord's doing, but made a mental note to ask him, just to be certain. "Now if they washed it, I'll be forever in their debt."
Mira chuckled. "Somehow I doubt that happened." She started toward the kitchen, pausing to ask if he actually had food she could fix for supper.
He nodded. "I should, but you don't have to do that. We can call out for something."
"Let me mother you a bit more before I have to leave."
Since he still felt like hell, despite the meds he was on, he said, "Okay. But nothing fancy."
Looking into the refrigerator, she laughed. "I don't think you've got anything for 'fancy', so we're having burgers and a salad."
"That sounds good." His glance landed on the laundry basket again and something occurred to him. "I never asked who found me."
"According to the police, a man who lives upstairs from you. He told them the men must have heard the elevator door open. He heard someone running and saw the backdoor to the building closing. When he got to it, he saw two men racing away so he went to investigate, thinking they'd been trying to break into the machines for change. He found you instead and called nine-one-one."
"I'll have to thank him. I probably owe him my life." Kevin's hands fisted. "I wish to hell he'd seen who they were. What if..?" He shuddered.
Mira stopped what she was doing to come back and sit beside him, taking his hands in hers. "The police are going to keep an eye on you, you know that. Besides which, I'm sure whoever did this thinks you got the message and it's over now."
He looked at her, trying to believe what she said was true. Still… "But I don't know why they beat the hell out of me—or tried to. I don't know what he meant by 'belongs to me'."
"Kev, do you want to move somewhere else? Would you feel safer if you did?"
He thought about that. Would I be safer, or would they just find me again? Finally he shook his head. "I'll be fine here. I'll just, umm, do my laundry first thing in the morning before classes, not at night." He tried to smile as he added, "No self-respecting mugger gets up before noon anyway."
Mira chuckled softly. "There's the sense of humor I like from you." She squeezed his hand then stood up. "I'd better finish getting supper ready while you go get out of those clothes and into something clean."
He looked down at what he was wearing, the same sweats he'd had on during the attack, and shivered. Going into his bedroom, he took them off, dropping them where he stood, then looked at himself in the mirror over the dresser. And wished he hadn't. Livid bruises marked him from his chest down to his thighs, a graphic reminder of what had happened. He turned, trying to see his back. It was bruised as well.
Whoever you were, you didn't pull your punches. But at least you didn't break anything, although given time, you might have. He winced when he touched his ribs.
Taking out another pair of sweats from the dresser, he put them on and went back into the living room.
"Supper's ready," his mother announced.
He went into the kitchen, smiling when he saw two plates filled with hamburgers and salad sitting on the table. "Thank God. Real food."
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