The man groaned. Mindy stepped back, wondering if she should turn him over. Fortunately, he stirred and rolled over by himself.

“Sir? Are you okay? Sir?” she called. She really hoped he didn’t need her, so she could find a ride, but she couldn’t live with herself if she left him there to die. He coughed violently and groaned again. His face was bloody and scraped, his strong chin and stubble were strangely handsome, and Mindy leaned for a closer look.

“You got a cell phone?” he asked gruffly, then coughed again.
“Um, yeah.” Mindy reached for her purse that was not there. “Oh no, it’s in my purse in the car that Cindy just drove away.” Mindy sank to the concrete beside the man.

“You gotta smoke?”
“No, I got nuthin,” she imitated.
“You got your looks.”
“Well let me just stick out my leg and catch us a ride!” Mindy sarcastically said, while doing just that, to prove it wouldn’t work.

Only it did work.

A gray Lexus slowed to a stop. “You need a ride, Miss?” a man eyed her over the descending black window.