Distance, he reminded himself and turned back to the court. Leon threw him the ball, catching him off guard. Ben began a steady dribble, echoing the word detachment each time the ball smacked the blacktop. He went for a layup at the same moment a familiar feminine shriek pierced the air, sounding over the raucous voices of the guys in the game.
His gut clenched hard. Ball forgotten, he ran toward the sound of Grace’s voice. She was sprawled on the ground where she’d obviously been pushed, and a tall kid in a red, sleeveless, hooded sweatshirt pulled on the camera strap around her neck. His strength nearly lifted her off the ground, while Grace, looking petite and out of her league, refused to hand over her precious possession.
“Hey!” At the sound of Ben’s shout, the youth released the strap, causing Grace to fall backward against the pavement. Given a choice between running after the attacker or seeing to the victim, Ben chose Grace.
He knelt down beside her. “You okay?” Long strands of blond hair fell over her face and he brushed them aside with one hand. Ignoring the sensation of silk beneath his fingertips wasn’t easy.
She offered him a smile he had no doubt was forced. “I’m fine as long as you don’t say ‘I told you so.’”
“I don’t have to. You already did.” He held out a hand to help her up.
She placed her palm inside his, wincing as her skin slid against his coarser flesh. Grabbing her wrist, he gently turned her hand over to reveal angry red scrapes on her palm. “Other one?”
She flipped over her right hand. Similar abrasions covered her skin. “It’s nothing some antiseptic won’t take care of.”
“Agreed.” But his insides didn’t feel as calm as his voice. A queasy feeling settled in his stomach at the sight of the bruises, and an uneasiness pricked at him when he thought of what could have happened if he hadn’t been around to scare off her attacker.
She swiped at her eyes. So, she wasn’t as brave as she wanted him to believe. Good. In that case, he wouldn’t have to worry about her returning here when he was gone. He pushed aside the added grief that thought caused in his gut.
He helped her rise to her feet without putting pressure on her hands. “You weren’t going to hand over the camera, were you?”
“Of course not! That camera cost a bundle. I couldn’t afford to replace it, and besides, he’s not entitled to take what doesn’t belong to him.”
He laughed at the innocent proclamation along with the determined clench of her jaw. “And just how did you plan to stop him?”
“If he’d gotten the camera, I’d have tripped him before he got two feet away. But you saved me the hassle. And besides, I held on to the camera, didn’t I?”
The little minx sounded proud of herself.
“He could have snapped your neck.”
“But he didn’t. See?” She whipped a fall of blond hair off one shoulder, exposing delicate, white skin.
But Ben wasn’t foole
d, and he pulled back on the camera strap, cringing as he saw the damage. “Your neck doesn’t look much better than your hands, Gracie. Ever think of taking a self-defense class?”
“I haven’t had a chance, but I’ll make time—soon.”
Obviously, she’d lied to her grandmother about having taken those classes. What else had she lied to Emma about and what else was she doing in this neighborhood?
“Thanks for the help, Ben.” Her shoulders slumped and much of the earlier bravado went with them as a tremor shook her slender frame. Taking him off guard, she turned and walked away.
“Hey.”
“Is for horses,” she called over her shoulder.
Two long strides and he caught up with her. Though he admired her independent streak, he was too worried about her to leave her alone. Hell, he wanted to be with her after what had just happened. Though he was asking for trouble, taking care of Grace came first.
Shoving his hands into his pockets, he walked alongside her. He sensed her need to keep moving, to not think about being attacked. She was probably in shock and he understood. But the numbness would wear off and he planned to be there when the impact set in.
“Where are you off to?” he asked.
“Subway.”
He shook his head. No way he’d let her go alone. The first few times he’d followed her, he’d ducked into a crowded subway car and tailed her at a discreet distance. Today, wanting things to appear coincidental, he’d taken his car.
“Subway’s not safe.”