Tamir nodded, his lips lifting in a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I agree. Man or woman, it’s always good to be prepared. And your cousins seem to have given you an excellent background in hand-to-hand technique.”
“I’ll make sure to thank them.” I offered him a plastic smile, equally as fake as his own. “I better head out. Great class today, thanks.” I didn’t give him time to respond before I slipped from the studio back into the arctic tundra.
What the hell was I thinking?
Clearly, I hadn’t been thinking at all. As if his chiseled good looks had cast a voodoo spell, making me say whatever inane thing that popped into my mind. I hadn’t been that careless with my words in years, and I had no valid explanation.
Sex. That had to be a part of it. I was only twenty-six years old and hadn’t slept with a man in over a year. Being near any halfway attractive man probably sent my hormones into a tailspin, deregulating my breathing and causing a drastic loss of oxygen to the brain. It had nothing to do with Tamir himself and more to do with my own sex-crazed brain.
Right. I didn’t buy that for a second.
Shaking my head, I hustled back to my apartment before my sweat-soaked hair crystalized in the frozen temperatures. Fortunately, I only lived a few blocks from the studio. Not a single thing about my neighborhood was noteworthy. It wasn’t particularly poor or wealthy, nor crowded or abandoned, and no one race or culture dominated. Crime was low, and the rent was reasonable, as far as rent in the city went. It was the perfect place to blend in and disappear.
My standard two-bedroom apartment was more than I thought I’d be able to afford in the city, but it still didn’t feel like home yet. A few more personal touches would help. One of these days, I would settle in and make the place feel like mine. Until then, it served a far more utilitarian function than sentimental.
The place came furnished with the basics, and I hadn’t added much. I could have used what little money I made to add a homey feel to the place, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was temporary. That my attempt at escape was nothing but a childish delusion, and each day was nothing but a countdown until I was dragged back home and made to suffer for my crimes.
At some point, I’d get over that mindset, but I hadn’t reached that place. Instead, I had a basic collection of kitchen supplies, clothes in my closet, and the furniture that came with the place—that was about it. That, and my little green aloe plant with red strings tied to the end of each pointy leaf to help ward off evil. It was the first thing I acquired when I arrived in the city.
My tita always had an aloe plant and swore by their power to keep away evil. Maybe evil had bad skin and hated to moisturize—I had no idea. I didn’t buy into the belief, but I figured having Ned around couldn’t hurt. Ned was my plant’s name. I’d named him after one of The Three Amigos—Ned Nederlander—who was kind but also the best shot in the West. The movie had been my tita’s favorite, so I grew up watching it with her on rainy days. Little Ned was the only “person” I allowed myself to talk to openly; therefore, he’d needed a name. If his powers against evil were to be trusted, then I figured it was only fitting to name him after a famous gunslinger.
Aside from Ned, the small balcony in the back was my favorite part of my apartment. By balcony, I meant fire escape, but it served the same purpose—a chance to be outside and feel the world turning around me. Today, it was too cold to sit out there, but on most days, that was where I relaxed. I brought my laptop with me and pulled up Netflix, or sometimes, I just observed people moving about in the neighborhood behind my building. It was peaceful, as was the knowledge that I could sprint down those stairs should I need to.
Not the best way to live, but it could have been worse. I knew. I’d seen worse.
Shrugging off my coat, I headed straight for the shower to wash away the nasty residue that clung to me from class—both sweat and fear—though one was far easier to be rid of than the other. The memory that had resurfaced during class left an oily smudge in my mind; a greasy imprint that wouldn’t wash away no matter how hard I tried to distract myself.
Between losing myself in the memory and my accidental admission to Tamir, it hadn’t been my finest evening but berating myself wouldn’t help. Even if I’d stirred Tamir’s curiosity, nothing would come of it. By the time I saw him again, I would have fortified my walls and made sure nothing further slipped past my defenses. If I had any luck at all, he would write me off as mildly unstable and lose interest in me entirely.
It wasn’t likely, but a girl could hope.
Chapter 2
Tamir
“I can’t imagine anyone will show up. We should have nearly a foot of snow by the time class ends. Most of the city has already shut down for the night,” Matthew noted, his voice crackling over the phone line. Bad connection. The day before had been cold, but now the city was feeling the full effects of the storm. The winds had started raging a couple of hours before, and snow fell in heavy flakes that blanketed everything in sight.
“I’m sure you’re right. If anyone happens to show up, I’ll let them know class is canceled.” I lived in the apartment above the studio, which made me the most logical person to be there during a snowstorm. The location of my apartment and my extra duties weren’t coincidental; that’s how Matthew paid me. He got to step away from the studio and focus on his family, and I got a roof over my head in a respectable part of town. Not that I couldn’t afford my own place, but this made everything simpler. No paycheck. No taxes. No trail. It was an ideal arrangement for me.
“Sounds good. We’ll see how the night goes and chat in the morning about tomorrow’s classes. Stay inside. It’s cold as hell out there.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice. Talk to you tomorrow.”
“Night, man.”
I ended the call and slipped the phone into my back pocket before taking the stairs down to the studio. The lights were still on from my earlier classes, but the warmth created by exercising bodies had already fled the building. I figured I’d wait at the desk to inform any students who hadn’t seen our email that class had been canceled. I could have simply put a note on the front door and shut down, but I had nothing better to do, so I planted myself at the desk and pulled my phone back out.
I didn’t even have a chance to check the updated forecast when the glass door plowed open and a snow-covered woman bounded inside. Her back was to me as she dusted off the snow, but I knew who it was the second she swept her hood off to reveal jet black hair pulled back in a high ponytail. It reminded me of the sleek black feathers of a raven, glossy and deceptive to the eye.
Most women I encountered were fairly straightforward creatures. They valued personal relationships above most aspects in life, and therefore, put an abundance of value in honesty and appearances. Phones and social media were a staple in their lives in order to maintain those personal connections, and they rarely left the house without a coat of lipstick in case they saw someone they knew. Their mindset was often entirely focused on pleasing the people around them. Nothing was wrong with that orientation, but I found myself unable to relate.
Emily was different.
I knew so because as often as she found herself watching me, I studied her just as intently. Unlike her, I’d had years to master my skills of observation. She had no idea she’d even registered on my radar, but she’d piqued my interest from the moment she first slipped into the back of my class.