Guilty Rescue

The reflection on the window of the luxurious black SUV showed a rather young man. At 27 years old, Jim Ross was practically a baby in the business world. However, it was his father's decision to step aside and let his only son take over the business. Jim ran his hand through his disheveled hair a few times until it fell into place. He had dark hair, a clean-shaven, almost pale complexion. Despite his handsome appearance, he had a somewhat boyish demeanor, which hadn't endeared him to the old guard of his father's firm. This was offset somewhat by his broad shoulders and rather tall stature. Jim was used to towering over his peers; he had shot up in height as a teen. He had always had a lot of excess energy, and through exercise, he had managed to channel that into a toned, though lean form. He didn't work out as much as he used to back in high school and college, though. The workload after taking over his father's firm meant he couldn't have as much fun. However, whenever he could, he did try to release some pressure.

After a draining day at the office, Nigel who also used to be his father's driver is taking a shortcut in reaching Jim's house, just out of town. In doing that, he passes through a rather unsavory neighborhood. Jim sees in the distance the silhouette of a woman being chased by two men. As the car approaches her, Jim can see them threatening her, until finally they grab her, trying and failing to silence her, but succeeding in dragging the poor woman into an alley.

"Nigel, stop the car," Jim demands, getting out of the car.

Rachel was a busy woman; she always had something to do in her packed schedule. She had to work two jobs to keep her home in order, as her husband didn't help at all. She married him pretty young at 18, while her husband was 20 at the time. Her father was delighted when she announced she was going to marry his best friend's son, thinking his daughter would be well looked after for life. However, her husband quickly got addicted to drinking and drugs whenever he would party, which led him to blow all his father's money on gambling in casinos. When Rachel's father died, she was distraught. The only good thing that came from it was her huge inheritance, which her husband managed to gamble all away. So here she was, working two jobs to keep her family from getting thrown out of their rented house in one of the roughest areas in the city.

She worked as a pharmacist receptionist in one of the nicer areas in the city, but her second job as a cleaner wasn't far from home, and the pay was good for only a few hours of work. Being a receptionist meant she had to dress smartly. She had two different sets of business clothes, one being a navy blue skirt, white shirt with a navy blue blazer to match, and the other being the same in black except it had an additional waistcoat that hugged her figure well. This was the one she decided to go with. As she got off the bus, she noticed a couple of guys whistling at her and calling out to her. She ignored them before panicking as they got closer and began running until they caught up to Rachel. Quickly, they grabbed at her, trying to cover her mouth, but being a fighter, Rachel bit at their fingers and shouted for help as they dragged her down a dark, dimly lit alleyway.

"Sir, I really don't think-" the old driver tried to say, but Jim was already out of the car. The half-broken flickering streetlight did not help much; most of the street was still shrouded in darkness, and the alley even more so, but the shrieks of the poor woman could still be heard, although less and less as one of the thugs was doing his best to put his hand over her mouth.

"Hold that woman still!" the other guy grunted, and a slap was heard as his friend shouted from getting his fingers bitten.

"Do that again and-"

"Leave that woman alone!" the thug looked to the end of the alleyway. The dim light from the streets showed the silhouette of Jim.

"Run along, buddy, this doesn't concern you!"

That's when Jim sprinted forward, bodying the thug that stood in front of the woman, making him fall back, then with a swift punch knocking the guy behind her down to the ground.

Meanwhile, Nigel had turned the car around, and the nose of the car poked into the alley, the headlights providing quite a bit of illumination now. Jim could see the poor woman strewn across the filthy ground. He approached her slowly, kneeling down as he held out his hand.

"Hey there, it's alright, it's alright. Don't be scared, I just want to help you out," he said gently, noticing her hair had fallen messily over her face. "Take my hand, and I'll help you up."

After struggling against the three men with all her power, Rachel was exhausted. Laying on the ground, she was breathing heavily, using her arms to prop herself up, looking sideways at Jim, who was a stranger to her at this point. She looked away from him and to her shoulder where her jacket had been ripped down the sleeve. She took Jim's strong hand and lifted herself to her feet with his aid.

"Thank you so much for your help," she said after looking over her shoulder and making sense of the situation. Her adrenaline was fading, but she instinctively jumped into Jim and gave him a large hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," she repeated over and over as tears filled her eyes. "I can't imagine what would have happened if you didn't help me," she said, taking a step back and wiping her eyes, moving her hair out of her face. She still hadn't seen who this hero of hers was since the beams of the car were too bright; she was just staring at a dark outline of Jim.

Jim helped the woman up but was taken a bit by surprise as she lunged forward, hugging him. "Woah... that's alright, you're alright," Jim repeated, tentatively keeping his arms on either side of her. His smile faded a bit as he saw tears running down her cheeks. The poor thing was likely traumatized, and as her hair was moved off her face, he could see that she was an older woman, but quite attractive. "I'm just glad I happened to drive by," he added. Turning back, he made a signal to Nigel to turn off the headlights that seemed to be blinding her somewhat. The alley became dark, but at least she didn't need to wince anymore just to see.

"Come, let me give you a ride h-" Jim reached for her hand, feeling something wet drip down to see that her sleeve that was cut open, her forearm had a gash and blood was dripping. Concerned, he gently took her arm. "That doesn't look too good," he mumbled to himself. "Nigel, call Dr. Nielsen, tell him to come to the penthouse," Jim called out for his driver. Coming to the side of the woman, he put an arm around her. "Come on, let's get you out of here."

"Thank you for stopping, you wouldn't believe how many people drove past before you stopped," Rachel says, sniffling before breathing in through her nose. As the alley became dark and her eyes adjusted, she almost audibly gulped at how attractive Jim was. She enjoyed the look of his strong jawline and his chiseled features; his broad chest and shoulders were obvious, but she didn't expect him to be so handsome.

"Oh no, please, no doctors. I'm sure it will be fine with some bandages. I can't afford treatment right now," Rachel admits as she slowly stumbles towards the car, more following the guidance of Jim's strong arms than moving on her own. "You've already done so much, please, just a ride home will be fine," Rachel says, not wanting to intrude on this young man's night even more. "I'm sure you don't want your girlfriend to see you bringing home an old woman with a cut all down her arm anyway," Rachel says, laughing out loud at the thought of that situation.

The woman was a bit of a mystery to Jim. On the one hand, her words, her mannerisms, they were all measured and with a certain degree of poise that made it clear she had a rather distinct upbringing. However, the clothes she was wearing, the cheap perfume, and even her comment about not being able to afford a doctor clashed somewhat. He led her to the car, his hand pressed to the small of her back as he guided her to the back seat, opening the door and helping her step inside. He laughed at her assumption, shaking his head.

"The only one waiting home for me would be my housemaid... and even she'd be gone by this hour," he confessed, helping her to get inside. "Scoot over a bit," he said, jumping into the car after her.

The driver put the car in gear, and they were on their way. Inside, Jim turned on the car lights, finally getting a good look at her, the state of her clothes, but pausing a bit as her lovely face came into view. She had quite the delectable curves too.

"Let me see that arm," he said, holding out his hand for her to take. That's when he noticed her wedding ring, freezing for a moment. He tried to ignore it as his fingers intertwined with hers, holding her hand as he twisted her forearm gently to show the cut side.

"I kind of feel bad for keeping you from your husband, but then again, maybe he should have been making sure you were getting home alright," Jim added a bit spitefully. He did not know her man, but he already felt some connection to her.

"What business is it you own?" Rachel asks, knowing enough about him already to figure out he's a businessman. Just like her father was, he had everything he did too. A penthouse, check. A housemaid, a driver, check and double check.

"I never even realized the time. It's gotten so late. I'm sorry if you having to look after me has spoiled your night," Rachel says, used to being blamed for "ruining my night again!" from her husband. When Jim mentioned him, she didn't even flinch. She hadn't even thought of him at all throughout this whole ordeal.

"Don't worry about my husband. He's probably fallen into a drunken sleep in front of the TV again. He's clueless to what time I get home, and even if he knew, not like he would care any," Rachel says, venting a little as she is fed up with her daily life. Going back to her husband is just always so draining.

Jim smiled but looked away as she asked him about his business. She picked things up rather fast, and he could sense that she held some sort of familiarity with this different world that Jim inhabited. He did not know her, but already she'd left an impression on him. More than that, as she spoke of her husband, Jim shook his head a bit, unable to believe that her man would be so indifferent and so uncaring. Part of it made sense; after all, if she had to travel alone at night, coming back from a night shift, the man wasn't doing enough to take care of her. He put his hand on her back.

"Hey, I was glad to be here when you were in trouble, and I'm glad to take a little care of you, so don't apologize," he added with a smile.

It wasn't long before the car arrived in front of a tall residential tower. The car stopped out front, and as Jim got out, he held out his hand for her.

"I just realized I never got your name. I'm Jim," he smiled as his hand served as a way to introduce himself but also to help her out of the car.

Rachel looked up through her eyebrows, wearing an innocent look on her aging face. She lifted her hand out and turned in her seat, her long slender legs covered in tights stretched out, and her feet landed on the ground. Standing up and out of the car, she introduced herself.

"I'm Rachel. It's nice to meet you, Jim The Superhero," she said with a smile. She walked to the front half of the car and tapped lightly on the window, smiling warmly as it unrolled.

"Thank you for your part in making sure I was safe too, Nigel. I appreciate it," Rachel said in a thankful tone. "Are you going to continue being mysterious about your work, Mr. Hero? Let me guess, you have your own bat cave at the top of the building?" Rachel said, turning to Jim again and walking back over to him so he could escort her into the building.

As they walked forward, they entered the building through two large glass doors in the middle of the wide front of the building. They met Dr. Nielsen in the lobby where he had a quick look at her arm.

"Once we head upstairs, I will patch you up properly. For now, hold these bandages to soak up some blood," the doctor instructed as all three walked over to the large gold elevator doors.

Jim let out a small laugh at her calling him the superhero. She took his hand and got out of the car, but then moved away from Jim. He wondered for a moment where she was going, maybe thinking not to take advantage of his hospitality. He raised an eyebrow as she was seen tapping on the window. Nigel's smiling face appeared, bowing his head as she thanked him. This made quite the impression on Jim. It was a little peek into her character and how despite everything, even the hardship of her situation, she didn't forget the people around her and to be gracious.

As she came back to him, teasing him about his bat cave, Jim shook his head. "Let's get you fixed up first, and then I'll let you know all about my bat cave," he said, taking the liberty of wrapping his arm around her back, holding her close as they entered the lobby. The doctor did not seem too concerned, and that eased Jim's worry.

The elevator went all the way to the penthouse where Jim used a special code to allow the elevator doors to open straight into his penthouse apartment. As the doctor went to take a seat on the couch, Jim walked over to the lights. They were typically set to be rather dim; he liked it as a way to relax after a long day.

"You need more light, doctor?" "Yes, please," he asked, getting out his toolkit as Rachel sat next to him. Jim, meanwhile, headed to the kitchen, taking out a bottle of wine and bringing it over with three glasses. He set the bottle down, drilling the wine opener into the cork as he smiled while looking at her.

"What? You can have a bit of wine, can't you? It's the bat cave's finest vintage," he added with a small laugh.

"It's really late, I probably shouldn't," Rachel says in protest to the wine. Then, taking a deep breath, she reflects on the day she's had and changes her mind. "On second thought, if it's the bat cave's finest, I'd hate to waste it," she says, flashing Jim a smile.

After some small talk and the doctor cleaning up her arm in a small basin with a washcloth, he reveals only a slim cut on her forearm from when she fell on some broken glass in the alley.

"Keep it covered for a day or two, and then keep it clean, and you should be all healed in a week. I'll send you my invoice in the morning, Jim," the doctor says, standing up and nodding his head before leaving through the large elevator doors again.

"This is giving me bachelor vibes rather than superhero hideout vibes," Rachel says, referring to the large penthouse she was currently sitting in. "I need to stop mentioning heroes. If only my son would ever stop talking about them," Rachel thinks to herself, another thought quickly flying into her brain. Should she keep the fact that she has a son quiet to Jim? She isn't hiding anything; she just doesn't want him to think she's too old.

Jim liked that she had her sense of humor intact despite what had transpired. As the doctor helped her clean and cover her wound, Jim took off his jacket, letting out a sigh as he sat onto one of the couches, a heavy sigh filling the living room. All of the stresses and tension of the day weighed on his shoulders, yet he wasn't 'tired' per se. In fact, her presence had quite an invigorating effect.

"Thank you, Doctor. Have a safe trip," Jim said with a smile. He had now poured her a glass and patted the empty spot on the couch next to him as a way to tell her to come take a seat, holding up her glass of wine.

At her deduction, he raised an eyebrow. "The two aren't mutually exclusive, you know?" tilting his head a bit as she confessed about her son. "You have a son?" he wondered out loud, offering her the glass of wine. Turning his body to face hers as she took a seat, if it wasn't obvious, he had her wound looked after. It was only logical that she left now, but he didn't want her to. He paused for a moment, unsure whether to say it, but in the end decided to just say it.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I get the impression there's more to you than meets the eye. You're not the stereotypical beaten down by life married woman... there's something about you," Jim couldn't quite place it, but she'd sparked curiosity within him. "At any rate, I'm glad to have met you, despite the circumstances," he said, clinking her glass.

Rachel sat on the couch close with Jim, sharing the wine together. She smiled inwardly as she enjoyed how easily they could converse, and she had a large smile on her face when she heard him say he was glad to meet her.

"Yes, I have a son. I have two actually. My first born, Dylan, is 29. I had him fairly young after a few years of marriage. I was 18 when I had him, and I thought my family would be complete. But after another few years, I fell pregnant unexpectedly with my husband again. So my youngest is Declan; he's 19. I was around 27 when I gave birth to him," Rachel explained, blushing as she realized she had just given this stranger everything he needed to work out she was old enough to be his own mother. She still didn't know his age, but she was smart enough to know he was between 25 and 30.

"I'm glad we met too. I hate to think what would happen if you hadn't punched your way into my life, literally," Rachel said, laughing at her traumatic situation, obviously coping with it well now that she was safe. "What makes me so different from all the other married women you know? Maybe I'm just happy you saved me from a traumatic situation," Rachel said, trying to stay mysterious as she wanted to have this gorgeous younger man wanting her attention.

Jim lifted the glass of wine up to his lips, taking a sip as she let him know about her two sons. As she was saying the age of the younger son and her own age when she had Jim, the rim of the glass touched his lips but did not tip over as the young man looked up, doing the math in his head to figure out that indeed the mysterious, enchanting woman in front of him was old enough to be considered his mom. He, on the other hand, wasn't even older than her eldest son.

The glass finally tipped over, the crimson liquid coating his tongue as Jim took a sip. The glass of wine lowered a bit, and he smiled as she reciprocated the feeling. Though something she said caught his attention, causing that smile to falter, but she quickly went off to ask him about other married women he knew.

Choosing to ignore her questions for now, Jim tilted his head to the side a bit as he recalled her words. "Punched my way into your life?" he lowered his face a bit, his eyes locked with hers. The tone of his voice chastising her presumptiveness a tiny bit, yet he didn't say it aloud, letting her own words hang in the air for a bit before he took a final sip of the wine. He set the glass down onto the coffee table and sprung to his feet.

"Come on, let's get your clothes off," he said nonchalantly, turning to offer her his hand. That's when Jim looked to her skirt and blazer, stained with dirt and bits of mud from the street.

"I'm sure you'll feel much better after a shower too, and I might have some clean clothes for you afterwards," he explained, wondering if her mind went to a different place from his earlier suggestion.

After Rachel finished talking, it was her turn to sip the wine as she listened to Jim's words intently. It was definite in her mind; she had a crush on this young man.

"You don't remember? You made easy work of those thugs in that alley," Rachel reminded him, sipping her wine as they continued to converse.

As Jim instructed her to take her clothes off, she stared up at him, looking deep into his eyes as she took a breath, imagining what would happen if she did strip. Did this young man really find me attractive enough to want to see me naked? Where is this going to end? He's basically got his crotch at mouth level; is he expecting a blowjob as thanks for his help? All these thoughts flew through her mind in seconds before she remembered the age gap and the fact she is married. She almost reminded Jim that she is a married woman, but he continued talking.