And then she heard that voice, oh man, that voice.
“It’s all right, honey. I’m not trying to sneak up on you. I’m coming in from the right, okay? Then I’m going to stop about five feet from where you are,” he said, and she all but sagged with relief.
She let go of the pepper spray.
Then watched as he did exactly what he’d described.
“Christ. You could tell I was getting ready to mace you?”
“I could tell my approach was making you nervous.”
She tried to shrug casually, and missed. But thankfully, her words sounded somewhat convincing. “It wasn’t that it was you. It just happens all the time now.”
“You don’t have to say that out of concern for my feelings. My feelings aren’t more important than your safety. If you feel unsafe, it should be my job to make sure you stop. Not your job to apologize for it.”
She had to take a second, before answering him.
Partly to check if he was actually and totally sincere.
But mostly because her breath caught in her throat, when she saw he was. ”That was a pretty cool thing to say.”
“Actually, I think it’s known as the bare minimum. And especially when you don’t know me, or have any idea what I’m doing here. Right now, even I’m wondering if I’m stalking you.”
“Really? Because that was the last thing that popped into my head,” she said.
But man, it stunned her to realize that was true.
She hadn’t thought anything like that—not for a second. And she still wasn’t thinking about it, when he asked, “You mind if I ask what the first thing was?”
“That you changed your mind about helping me.”
“Pretty good guess. Though to be honest, it was more that I couldn’t in good conscience let you come to this unending nightmare of a class.”
She glanced at what he’d just waved at. “It doesn’t seem that bad, to be honest.”
“Your expression is telling a different story.”
“Oh that’s probably just my extreme velour allergy. It makes my face look like its full of horror.”
She wasn’t sure what was better. The ease with which she cracked the joke, or his reaction. Breath huffed out of him; his mouth quirked on one side.
It was almost a laugh, if you tilted your head and squinted.
“There is a lot of velour in there,” he said. “A lot of velour, and almost zero self-defense tips.”
“Well actually, if you look close you can see that one girl is trying to maneuver that other girl carefully around her mat.”
He followed her pointing finger. “Oh you mean the two who are teaching each other how to waltz?”
“That is not a waltz, come on. It’s clearly a modified Charleston.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I missed the jerky thing she’s doing with her foot.”
“I think she’s trying to sweep the leg, like in Karate Kid.”
His eyes rolled up to the heavens. “Dear god. Forgive me, for sending you to this fresh hell.”
“Hey, you had the best of intentions.”
“Yeah, and I hear they were last used to pave a particular road.”
“You know, I’ve always fucking hated that saying. Your idea pays off, you’re a hero. Your idea goes wrong, every fucker in the world is suddenly a smug smugerton telling you how awful you were all along for ever trying at all,” she said, then had to stop. Mostly because she knew he was looking at her, curiously. But also, because there was more to be said. And those words took some building up to. They took some guarding of herself, so tears didn’t come with them. “I know…I know I asked you for something crazy. Something so crazy I can’t even believe I did it. And you gave me perfectly reasonable advice, in response.”
“I basically told you to take a hike. I told you I couldn’t handle it.”
“Who would want to handle a weirdo stranger asking for tips in being emotionally closed off?”
“A better person than the one I actually am.”
“You seem to be doing pretty good to me.”
“That just isn’t true. But I’m trying to make it be, starting right now. You still want me to show you? I can show you. I can show you whatever it is you think you need.”
Christ, he really knew how to dole out the worst possible answers.
Or at least, the worst in terms of her stupid eyes and how much they wanted to leak right now. She had to laugh, just to get them under some kind of control. “That’s really cool of you, but honestly I know I’ve already asked way too much. You just seem so strong and together and good at teaching that stuff—I think it did something to my brain. Or the parts of me that governs socially acceptable behavior.”
“It’s absolutely socially acceptable to ask a stranger for help, I promise you. In fact, I’ll do way better than that. I’ll prove it to you, beyond all doubt.”
“Oh yeah? How are you going to do that?”
“I need your help. I fucked up. Please let me make it right.”
She went to say yes, before she’d even considered his words.
Then they sank in, slow and sweet as warm syrup.
“Goddamn it, that was genius. That was stone cold fucking genius. I am in awe.”
“Doesn’t take a genius to know that most people consider help perfectly okay to ask for, when someone else is doing the asking. And if I was a betting man, I’d say that went double for you.”
She glanced back at the dancing girls, at that. She had to.
But he even turned that into something awesome.
“You don’t have to turn your face away. I know you just have something in your eye.”
“It was the rain. There was a speck of dust. I yawned. I forgot to blink.”
“All of those things, too. Nothing you ever need to explain.”
“Maybe there is nothing to explain.”
“I can believe that for you, also.”
“You can?”
She looked back at him, even though her face was wet.
But good god, he didn’t make her regret it.
“We met just now, right here. There was never anything before this. I made a crack about the self-defense class, and you made one back. Then I told you that I had some expertise in that area, and you said that it sounded like just what you needed. So, I tell you that I will teach you everything you want to know, for as long as you want, in whatever place you decide. And you say—”
“I’m ready when you are.”
Chapter Four
She suggested the dance studio, right next door to the meetings. Every Tuesday, so she could tell Letty she was going to therapy. So she could avoid hearing that this was a bad idea, even though she knew it was. She had no idea who he was, not really. She didn’t even know his name.
He could have been a maniac.
Maybe all he wanted to do was hurt her, too.
But god, he made that idea very hard to believe. That closed expression of his shifted, the second he saw her walking towards him over the grass outside the studio. It opened just a little, like a tensed fist loosening when someone kind puts a hand over it. And though it was gone in an instant, it was arresting to see. And so was the other thing she noticed, the second she got close.
He went out of his way to walk in front of her. Not behind her, not at her side—directly in front, so she could see every single move he made before he made it. There were no jarring surprises with him. He didn’t sneak up and grab her arm, oblivious. He didn’t make her need to constantly watch him.
Even though she could see it kind of killed him to do things this way. He kept checking over his shoulder, just as she would have done with someone behind her. His body tensed every time her shoe scuffed against the sidewalk.
Yet, he carried on anyway.
And that wasn’t even the best thing.
No, the best thing was in the tiny room they had commandeered.
It was basically a smaller version of the studio n
ext door, every part of it falling to pieces and as freezing as its sister. Two windows were broken in this one, and the floor was even filthier. It looked like it hadn’t been cleaned for a thousand years.
But that was absolutely fine.
Because he had brought mats.
He had patched up those broken windows—she could see he had. There was a roll of electrical tape on a chair beneath them, and a pair of scissors. The bag they had come from stood next to them, open. Nobody would have left that stuff here, in a room no one used.
Though she was too stunned not to ask, anyway. “Did you do that? Did you do all of this?”
“You say that like it’s a huge deal to bring a couple of mats and tape a window.”
“It is a huge deal when you’re doing a massive favor for a complete stranger.”
He tilted his head, like a shrug without the shoulders. “I wouldn’t call it a massive favor. Or you a complete stranger.”
“We’ve had two conversations. And neither of them included our names.”
“Your name is Lydia. Lydia Palmer.”
“Okay, so you know my name. Somehow.”
She intended it to be a joke. It felt like a joke, all the way down to her bones.
But he didn’t take it like one.
He explained, automatically. “The group leader introduced you.”
“I don’t remember that at all.”
“You were pretty busy with the coffee.”
“Well, that makes sense. Pretty sure that stuff has the ability to deaden senses.”
“I know I went briefly blind and deaf after drinking it.”
“You know, you are much funnier than I thought you would be.”
He gave her a hint of reaction, to that. A slight widening of the eyes, as if the idea surprised or startled him. And then even better—he spoke in a tone that sounded almost sheepish. “I was just going with your bit.”
“Yeah you can only blame your conversational skills on me for so long before that house of cards starts to collapse. May as well just confess now: you actually love chatting.”
“You got me. In fact, it’s my second favorite thing right after drilling rusty nails into my eyeballs.”
“My goodness, was that you being funny, again? That’s twice in under five minutes.”
“It doesn’t count if you actually mean it.”
“Better go get my nail gun, then.”
“Would you?”
“Sure. Right after you stop all the constant talking you’re doing.”
The corner of his mouth turned up, and this time, it wasn’t amusement. It was pure rue—though, somehow, it was just as delicious on him. More delicious, in fact. It made his black eyes glitter, and when he spoke it fair near sang in his usually so restrained voice. “I’m thinking of being silent now just out of spite.”
“Yeah, you should definitely get on that.”
“Any second now. Just complete quiet.”
“Ready when you are, chief.”
“No words at all.”
“None. Zero. Zip.”
He ruled a line under his words with one hand.
But the silence had barely spun out for more than ten seconds when he rolled his eyes to the ceiling and sighed, “Goddamn it. Literally, all I can think about is all the things I should have said and now can’t, because I swore undying silence on pain of rusty nails.”
“Well, you might as well say them now. I mean, that last sentence well and truly blew your vow.”
“I know. Though, to be honest, I don’t even know where this stuff is coming from.”
“It’s all my fault, remember. First, I demand you answer my questions. Then I want free tips. Now I’m making you say words against your will. You should really get out of here before I chain you to bed and make you write romance novels for me.”
“I’d be afraid of you doing a Misery, if any of that was the way those things happened.”
Now it was her turn to roll her eyes. “Oh come on, I totally demanded and made you.”
“Sure you did. If by demanded and made you mean fell all over yourself to avoid bothering me.”
“Hey, I couldn’t help falling over myself. You stared right at me just as I was about to casually bump into you. You completely ruined my whole accidental segue into a conversation thing.”
“I know, I know. But I do feel I’ve since made reparations.”
“You didn’t need to. Though, man, you really have. The stuff you’ve done here alone…”
He glanced around his handiwork, in a way that suggested he didn’t think much of it. “It’s really nothing. It took me all of five minutes—and the window thing was pretty selfish, truth be told. I mean, spending time in the arctic tundra was never really a major goal of mine. I’m more of a light jacket in eighty-degree weather kind of guy.”
More joking, she thought. But this time, she didn’t draw attention to it.
She just kept going, in the hopes that he would too. “And I’m guessing you have a good excuse for the mats, too,” she said, and sure enough, he followed her.
Like he couldn’t help himself, once he got going.
“Well see, that’s the other thing about me. I’m really not into getting cholera from a floor.”
“I seriously doubt you could get cholera from this floor.”
“Are you kidding? I think I have cholera now. The floor looked at me, and that was it, I was fucked. I would say save yourself, but I’m pretty sure your feet are already glued to the sticky surface.”
He waved at the offending thing, but she didn’t look down.
She was too busy watching his face, for all the tiny hints of expression.
The way he looked faintly surprised at himself, every time he cracked a joke. The constant quirk of his upper lip, whenever she batted a comment back. It was nothing really, yet more exciting than most people saying a thousand revealing things. And of course, that only made her want to do it more. She couldn’t banter with guys she’d bantered with a million times before, but with him, it was easy. More than easy.
Addictive, she thought. Then hot on its heels: safe.
“I’ll concede that it is incredibly sticky. Like a million kids made it out of half-eaten lollipops,” she said, and he nodded as if she’d said the most serious thing in the world.
“That was also my suspicion.”
“I think I even smell strawberry flavor.”
“Actually that might be the air freshener I sprayed. The place stank like an old toilet; it was a whole thing. Only problem is, now I think it smells kind of like a fruit tree grew in a sewer.”
“The lesser known sequel to A Tree Grows in Brooklyn,” she said, and expected that lip quirk. That slight flash of light through his dark as midnight eyes.
But instead, he gave her something so surprising she wasn’t even sure what it was, at first. It sounded like he was coughing. Like he’d gotten something caught in his throat, and needed to hack it out. Then he seemed to get hold of the sound and yank it back, and she knew. He had laughed. Not a huff of amusement—a full blown laugh, riddled with rust but still so sweet, it actually made her heart jump.
Especially, when that confusion flickered over his features.
When he sort of wriggled his jaw, as if the sensation was that unfamiliar to him.
God, if this was his reaction to it, how often did he laugh or smile? Never, she thought and immediately wanted to make him do it again. At the very least, she wanted to reassure him: it’s cool to do that any time you want. But of course, by the time she got around to it, he was already trying to shift things in another direction altogether.
“Okay, so you want to get started with this?” he asked.
He even clapped his hands together, like a full stop on any sentence she wanted to say before she actually got chance to say it. No more, that hand clap said.
And she felt the least she could do was obey his wishes.
“I do. I have no idea how to get started wi
th it, but I’m ready to learn.”
“You just tell me what you wanna know, and we’ll go from there.”
“Yeah, but maybe what I want to know is super crazy.”
The idea of the masked man on his knees flashed behind her eyes—strong enough that she was sure he could see it. He eyed her carefully, steadily, and when he finally spoke his words seemed to confirm her suspicion. “I’d imagine it’s more about stopping people who want to hurt you than dodging a handshake.”
“That…yeah it…yeah. That might kind of be exactly it.”
“Then it’s not crazy at all.” He shook his head then held up a finger. “First thing you need to learn is how to step into stuff.”
“Well, considering I have no idea what that means, I’m going to guess you’re completely right.”
“It’s just about pushing back against your instincts. See, most people when they’re attacked automatically try to wrench themselves away. It’s a pretty natural reaction to something like that. But nine times out of ten, it won’t help you. It’ll just make things worse.”
“Okay. That makes no sense, but okay.”
“It doesn’t make sense now. But it will. Think you can put your back to me?”
“I can. Though don’t be surprised if I totally lose it the second you get close.”
She was proud of herself for keeping that lightheartedness in her voice as she turned. But the truth was, she shook as she did as he had asked. And though she managed to keep her gaze forward once she had moved, the urge to glance back at him was enormous.
So, it was a huge relief when he said, “You don’t have to worry about that. I’m not going to sneak up on you. In fact, you can just watch me over your shoulder all the way through. Sound good?”
“Yeah, that does sound good.”
“Okay, I’m coming over there now.”
“All right. Cool. Cool.”
He took five careful steps forward. “I’m going real slow.”
“Your slowness is hugely appreciated.”
“Now. You see my hand coming towards you?”
She did. She couldn’t have missed it if she tried. Mostly because it was inching towards her, but also because it seemed to have tripled in size and become about twenty times rougher than it really looked. Back in reality, his fingers were long and elegant—like a surgeon, she thought. But right now, all she could see were things conjured up by her own sweaty imagination.
Never Better: A Dark Obsession Novel Page 4
