Page 7 of Chasing Amanda

A woman rushed around the corner, the other server from the night before. The piercings on her face looked uglier in the daylight. She slowed when she saw him. “Hey.”

“On your way to work?”

“I’m late.” Despite that, she stopped a few feet from him.

“Can I ask you something?”

She tilted her head to the side. “Sure, ask me anything.”

Whoops. He feared he’d given her the wrong idea, but there was nothing to do about that now. “The other waitress from last night…”

“What about her?” Her flirtatious tone was gone.

“I agreed to meet her near the library on her campus for lunch, but…” He smiled sheepishly. “I’m so embarrassed. I can’t remember where she goes to school. I’d hate to blow her off, and I don’t have her phone number.”

This was a risk, too. Maybe Amanda wasn’t a student at all.

The woman shook her head. “The cute guys always go for blondes. Maybe I should dye my hair.”

Removing the metal brackets from her face wouldn’t hurt, but he didn’t say so.

The name of the campus on the other side of town came back to him. “It’s Johnson and Wales, isn’t it?”

“Got it on the first try.” She studied him through narrowed eyes. “I’m surprised Amanda agreed to meet you. If it doesn’t work out…” She left the invitation hanging.

“I appreciate your help.” He jutted his chin toward the restaurant. “You’d better get in there. And, uh… Just so you know, I’m not a bad guy. I’m trying to do the right thing here.”

She gave him a confused look, but he didn’t explain, just jogged away.

How long would it be before she heard about the crazy man who’d been looking for Amanda? How long before she realized she’d helped him find her?

Mark headed the way Amanda had gone the night before. Maybe he could find her on her campus. He didn’t think it was a very big school. With Justin in class all day, it wasn’t as if he had anything else to do. He’d just warn her and give her some suggestions about how to stay safe. Then he’d know he’d done all he could.

Two hours later, Mark was cursing himself for an idiot. Johnson and Wales might not be a huge school, but it was right in the middle of Providence. There were students everywhere, along with businesspeople and families and locals going about their lives. How in the world was he supposed to find one random woman in this crush of humanity?

Cold and hungry and annoyed, he stopped on a busy corner and peered at the passersby. No pretty blondes anywhere in sight.

What had gotten into him?

He guessed the answer, though, or at least part of it. It was the same thing that had infected most Americans in one form or another on the morning of September eleventh, when they’d watched in horror as the towers fell. As a plane hit the Pentagon, one of the most secure buildings on the planet.

All those innocent civilians—some from his own hometown—gone.

Just like that.

When he’d heard about the heroes on Flight 93, Mark had been jealous. Ridiculous and stupid as it was, at least they’d been able to thwart the terrorists. Meanwhile, Mark and his fellow Marines had been stuck on base, watching the news, pacing. Itching to fight. Furious.

Powerless.

After all his training, he’d been powerless.

Maybe that was all this was, a desire to prove he could actually make a difference. He hadn’t been able to save any of those innocents on 9/11, but maybe he could save this one woman.

Fine. Not just a woman. A stunning blonde with a joyful laugh. Which had nothing to do with it.

A shop door opened up ahead, and the scent of baked goods and coffee wafted out with a couple of customers.

Food. That was what he needed.