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1292 Words
He held me in a type of bear hug, one hand over my mouth, the other gripping my chest tightly, both keeping me firmly pressed against him, with my arms forced down at my sides. I folded over with as much force as I could, bending at the waist, then slid my hips to the side to give my hand room to swing backward at his groin. I performed the series of movements in quick succession, catching my attacker by surprise and landing a perfect strike. He bellowed a curse, and his arms reflexively contracted backward, giving me room to yank myself free of his grasp. It worked. I had freed myself of his grasp but done so in a way that still left me trapped. The man stood doubled over between me and the street. My only chance at escape was to run past him and risk being captured again. I had no choice. I lunged forward and used all my force to push past him, but his iron grip clamped down over my wrist on my way past. He yanked me back into the alley so hard, it felt like he had dislocated my shoulder. My natural instinct was to curl in on myself protectively as pain radiated down my arm, but he yanked me to him and pressed my front against the icy brick wall, one hand clamped over my mouth and the other grasping my hands behind my back. The metallic taste of fear coated my tongue, and my breathing shuddered as sobs began to wrack my chest. But before the man could make his next move, a curse came from the mouth of the alley. My attacker was yanked off me. I scurried a few steps away, but instead of running, I found myself watching in awe as my savior pummeled the other man. It was dark, and my rescuer’s back was to me, but I could still see that he wore the same black track pants and red gym shirt he’d been wearing moments before in class. It was Tamir. He’d saved me. His strikes were perfectly clean, performed with expert precision. Like a machine. A killing machine. It was beautiful and terrible to behold. Nothing like what I witnessed in class. At full speed and with deadly intent, Tamir no longer resembled a dancer. He was a predator. Fierce and merciless. The two men exchanged only a dozen parries before my hooded attacker collapsed to the ground, unconscious. At least, I thought he was unconscious. “You didn’t kill him, did you?” I hissed. Tamir slowly turned, his chest rising and falling at an accelerated rate— the only evidence he’d just been in a fight. “He just attacked you. Do you really care if he’s dead?” “No … yes. Yes, I do.” He closed the distance between us and looked me up and down. “Are you hurt?” My breath caught in my throat, and my hand flew to my necklace for reassurance. “No, I’m fine. Let’s just forget this happened. I need to go.” I was doused in two competing emotions—terror and relief. Seeing Tamir there in the darkness, knowing he had stopped that man from doing God knew what, I desperately wanted to launch myself into his arms. But he’d nearly killed a man without a thought. The savagery in his black gaze terrified me, keeping me rooted in place. “This man just tried to mug you. Don’t you want to call the cops?” “No.” My response was immediate and absolute, which I knew sounded odd. Why the hell would a woman not want to call the police when she’d just been attacked? I began to pace. “Look, I’m fine. No harm done. I know it seems strange, but can you please just let it go?” The possible consequences of my night cascaded like dominoes before me. Was this attacker the man who’d been at my apartment? Holy s**t. What was I supposed to do now? How had this happened? If I’d been found this quickly, would I ever be free? Was there any point in relocating and trying again? Did I have any other option? Would I have to live the rest of whatever short life I had on the run? “Emily!” Two strong hands gripped my shoulders and shook me firmly. I drifted back to the present and realized Tamir had been speaking to me, but I’d been so entirely lost in my thoughts that I hadn’t heard a word he’d said. I peered up at his face, searching his features for answers he couldn’t give me. “He’s going to wake up any minute. If we aren’t calling the police, then we need to leave. Let me walk you back to your apartment.” I shook my head frantically. “No, I can’t go back. It’s not safe there. You don’t understand.” His hands lifted from my shoulders to my cheeks, holding me in place. His forehead creased with confusion, making me panic even more. “Calm down,” he soothed gently. “We don’t have to go to your place, but I’m not leaving you here. We can go to my place. You can explain to me what’s going on, and we’ll figure out what to do from there once you’re thinking more clearly. Okay?” His hands didn’t leave my face until I managed a hesitant nod. He took one of my hands in his and pulled me toward the street, allowing me to grab my gym bag from where it had fallen when I was first attacked. His hand seared me with its heat, and I clung to it as if he were the lifeline I desperately needed. I hadn’t been far from the studio, so we made it back within minutes. He took me to the tenant entrance beside the studio, and we climbed the stairs to the second floor. An eerie fog blanketed my mind on the way over. I felt numb and distant. As if my life was no longer recognizable. Stepping inside the warmth of his apartment helped marginally. The place was spacious but comfortable, not too different from my own home, except Tamir had clearly been living in his apartment far longer than I’d been in mine. “Why don’t you have a seat. I’ll make you some tea.” He motioned toward a gray upholstered sofa as he turned toward the open kitchen. I kept my jacket on, tugging it tightly around me, and sat on the far end of the couch with my bag clutched against my chest. The adrenaline waned from my system, making my body shiver and shake uncontrollably as I peered blankly at my surroundings. How had my life devolved so drastically in a matter of minutes? What was I going to do? “Here, eat these. They’ll help elevate your blood sugar and ease the shaking.” Tamir handed me a napkin stacked with several shortbread cookies and placed a glass of water on the coffee table. He lowered himself into a chair opposite me. His stare bored into me, but I couldn’t meet his gaze. “You eat cookies?” I asked. “It seems entirely too normal for you.” It was the first thing that popped into my addled brain. “I am human, Emily.” “Could have fooled me,” I muttered. “I figured you’d be one of those ‘my body is a temple’ kind of people who lives on spinach and kale.” I nibbled on the buttery goodness, the first bites of sugar instantly calming my nerves.
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