Page 5

CHAPTER FIVE

‘E xpect your life to be thrown off-kilter at a moment’s notice, and be prepared.’

The words echoed in Nina’s head, like the Gayatri mantra on repeat.

Fifteen years ago, Blake Weatherby, a famous investigative reporter, had imparted these words to a too-naive-for-her-own-good Nina. Ever since, Nina had prepped an overnight bag with cash (she added two per cent of her monthly income to it every month), a burner phone, personal documents and a spot for her laptop, and stashed it at the back of her utility closet.

After rushing home from the airport, Nina had stuffed the items from her overnight bag into her backpack – if she needed to stay nimble, the backpack would be easier to carry – and hightailed it out of there. She’d managed to stay hidden for over two and a half months since that night, yet somehow the thugs had found her at the airport… they must have followed her from her flat.

So she’d been careful. She had replaced her personal documents, securing a new ID – thanks to a young techie she’d interviewed for an article on underage alcoholism. Then she’d used that ID to rent a new flat.

It had hurt to leave her old place with all her things – books, shoes, cosmetics, memorabilia, gadgets, favourite blankets…

None of them measure up to your safety, Nina.

That’s what she’d told herself. Besides it wasn’t like she’d never have her old life again. She could revisit memories, make new ones, buy more books… but if they found her or she died, that would be the end of everything.

So here she was, three months since that night, standing by a wall in a back alley, staring at the scene of the crime. Firefighters and cops had since packed up and left the area.

Even a month after the incident, this site had been crammed with journalists and onlookers. At least, that’s what they’d shown in the news. Nina had been scouring the internet for any information on what the police were doing about the case. Yet she hadn’t actually paid attention to the videos – hadn’t had the guts to do so.

She studied the building – or what had been five storeys of moss-covered bricks sporting a few boarded-up windows. Fire had eviscerated those derelict aesthetics, leaving only a black carcass behind. The blue, green and red bins that had flanked the once maroon back door lay dumped in a swirl of molten brown plastic.

You could see into the interior skeleton of the building – a few loose wires, exposed beams, collapsed walls… Complete and utter destruction. No one inside would have survived.

As far as she was aware, there had been no reports of a body being found. Perhaps the fire had burned for so long, it had eaten the evidence of Nina’s wrongdoings. Only they suspected the fire was a ploy to hide a murder…

A chill zinged down her spine. She hadn’t set fire to this place. She’d only?—

Slink, crunch, slink …

Oh God! Nina pressed her palm against her stomach. She’d killed someone inside that very building. The churning intensified until bile rose in her throat. She tried biting her lip, tearing into her own flesh to quell the sudden reaction.

Her feet retreated as if backing away from those memories. But the feel of the knife sinking into flesh like butter…

She bent over and puked, the remnants of her chocolate cereal and milk splattering all over the brick wall she’d just been leaning on. A few splatters landed on her boots – her favourite pair no less.

‘That’s unfortunate,’ a voice whispered from behind her.

Oh shit! Nina swivelled, eyes wide. A voice whispering to her was bad enough. A voice whispering to her in a neglected alley behind a burned building was worse.

And a voice belonging to a man… Oh hell! Was he just a man? Or was he Adonis? A Greek god? An absolutely hunky hunk? None of those words fit him exactly.

His clothes appeared rumpled, the smattering of a beard on his face almost unkempt. But his eyes… they arrested her. In those green eyes, Nina saw grief. A scar marred the edge of his left eyebrow, adding another layer to the grief and the scruff. And then, as if scraping back the dark, a softness emanated from him, the kind that set her heart at ease.

Nina stared, probably giving him a doe-eyed look.

He reached into his pocket – and Nina snapped out of whatever spell she’d been under. Her hands shot up in surrender. When had she ever melted for a man, especially one that looked like him?

Her eyes trailed lower in admiration – no, in assessment! – to check him out… No, to size him up.

And oh Lord, what a size it was. He had a bulge in the right place. And his entire six-foot-two frame was composed of broad muscles packed into a virile body.

And his hair. His spiky blond hair beckoned to be caressed, to be fisted, pulled closer and then… Kiss those lips.

Oh fuck!

Nina commanded her tongue to retreat at once. But when those grief-stricken eyes found hers again, her teeth emerged and sank into her own lower lip – wanting, needing to sink into his lips…

He cleared his throat and raised the hand he’d stuck into his pocket. ‘You alright?’

She realised he’d been hunting for a tissue so she could clean up the gunk around her mouth, not fetching a weapon to threaten her. Urgh! Had she literally licked her lips then bitten them like a femme fatale while looking like a kid with an upset stomach?

Nina plucked the tissue from his fingers, muttered a ‘thanks’ and dabbed at her face. She needed a bottle of water to rinse out her mouth.

The man pointed to the building. ‘Never seen a run-down building before?’

She had. In fact, at the beginning of her career, she’d researched a well-known arsonist and gone around Glasgow listing the abandoned buildings – and there were as many abandoned buildings in Glasgow as random bottles of Buckfast tucked into strange public places… or bams on the subway on a Saturday night – but she hadn’t vomited over a run-down, burned-out building, had she?

The man raised an eyebrow. ‘I’m trying to figure out if you’d feel better with a glass of wine, or whether you’ve had too many already.’

What?

‘You were muttering something about Buckfast in weird places?’ he added when she didn’t say anything.

Oh hell! Had she just muttered that aloud? This was bad. The only other time she’d humiliated herself like this was back in college when she’d liked a guy. A guy she’d almost agreed to go seven times around the fire with…

Nina stuffed the tissue in her pocket. ‘Sorry, I-I guess the state of that building caught me off guard.’

The man waved his hands at her drying vomit. ‘I’m not judging you. Alcohol can be very helpful at times… And I can vouch for its uses, especially when grieving.’

Nina cocked her head. So his eyes didn’t lie. ‘You think I should get drunk?’

His gaze roved over her body, before settling on her face. ‘If you think you’d like to grieve and want some company, I’m game.’

Seriously? Drinking with a stranger? ‘Is this how you get dates? Finding women in lonely alleyways?’

A rumble rose from the man’s chest. It sound almost guttural and so fucking male. Nina’s nether regions spasmed. On any other man, such a noise would’ve been comical. On him though…

Another spasm. She swallowed and let her eyes fall on the building again. When you had the evidence of your crime in front of you, you didn’t need an anti-aphrodisiac.

‘You’re funny, woman. No, I haven’t been on a date in too long. And that’s not what this is.’

Nina raised both her eyebrows. ‘Really?’

‘Aye, this is a drinking trip.’ He took a step closer until his masculine scent – leather and wood polish – engulfed her. ‘I’ve been on something of a binge. It’s too boring to do it alone. Join me, and let’s drown the pain out.’

‘H-How did you know?’ Nina didn’t have to say any more. The man’s arm shot out, cradling her right elbow.

Despite the cold temperature, his touch felt like a fire crackling in the hearth after a long, stormy day outside. And his fingers, like the stubble on his face, scraped deliciously against her cheek.

His voice dropped to a whisper. ‘I see loneliness in your eyes. And fear. Come on, love. Join me. Tonight, I’ve got you.’

Loneliness. He’d seen loneliness in her? No one else had ever bothered.

‘I’m not lonely.’

He took another step, and now he was close – so close his torso brushed against her chest. His other hand found her left elbow.

Nina leaned in, breathing him in, savouring the angular lines of his torso. He wore a dark grey jumper, yet she could almost feel the six-pack hidden underneath it.

‘I-I don’t even know your name.’

‘Shh,’ he whispered in her ear, leaning his cheek on top of her head. ‘Sometimes loneliness can be freeing. Embrace the fear and let go. At least for tonight, embrace the fear that when you die, no one would notice or care. And see where it leads you.’

Was he crazy? A man in an alley should be crazy. But he had also just read her mind – the thought that if she’d perished in that fire without a trace, no one would ever know or care had been strumming in the background for months.

Nina sighed and nodded, mind made up. It was time to let go of that fear. ‘Let’s embrace it. But just for tonight.’