Page 11 of Veil of Death and Shadow (Order of Reapers #1)

11

MAREENA

Approximately Nine Years Ago, Three Years Before The Undoing

T he music was loud, the kind of loud that drilled into the soles of my feet and vibrated all the way up, until it settled somewhere inside of my ribs. The kind of loud that made you feel like you were a part of it, participating in the sound.

I loved it.

My date? Not so much.

“I’ll grab us a drink, sound good?” he asked, his breath warm against my ear as he leaned down. It took everything I had to not flinch at the sensation.

“Great, thanks.” I offered up a grin, though it stretched uncomfortably across my face, and I hoped he didn’t sense the force behind it.

According to his profile on the app, his name was Joseph, though when we met up, he insisted that I call him Ace. At first glance, the date should have been okay. He was cute—athletic, dark hair, tall, good smile—but the conversation had been stilted and awkward and he just kind of gave off one of those vibes. The sort that I wouldn’t have said yes to if he’d asked me out in real life, without the veneer of a screen.

We grabbed a quick dinner before the show, and he’d spent nearly the entire time talking about the frat he was pledging, the coolest parties he’d gotten into, and complaining about a never-ending list of bad dates he’d been on thanks to the apps.

In the entire forty minutes I’d spent with him so far, he’d asked me exactly one question about myself. That question was about my major, even though my profile very clearly stated that I didn’t go to college, though I hoped to start taking classes at one of the local community colleges next semester.

Disappointing didn’t cover it. I’d only agreed to go out with him in the first place because he’d messaged me about the books I had listed in my bio.

Of course, it became clear once meeting in person that he’d never actually read them—he’d clearly used the internet or his more bookish friends to initiate a conversation that he had no interest in continuing once we were on the actual date.

Was there such a thing as emotional or intellectual catfishing?

Because I was pretty sure that’s what this was.

And somehow it was so much worse than if he showed up looking entirely different from his pictures.

As it was, I was trying to salvage the night anyway. It was Friday, I’d suffered through the intricate negotiation between eyeliner and makeup remover that led to a killer cat eye, and I’d already gone through the tedious effort of actually leaving the apartment.

The bar was cool at least. And since I never went out with anyone more than a couple of times, it hardly mattered if his company was less than desirable. In some ways, it was almost preferable this way.

Ace was a student at the local university, and I loved any excuse to come to this part of town. There was something appealing about sinking into the college crowds, walking through campus, eating at the restaurants the students frequented, combing through the bookstore’s lists of textbooks—though damn those prices were ridiculous. Thank god I preferred fiction.

Would I ever have the money and freedom to go to a school like this? Absolutely not. But it sure was nice to dream occasionally—to imagine what my life might have looked like if things had been different. If I had a family, stability, and the comforts that went with those things growing up.

So, in different circumstances, I would have absolutely bailed on the date after scarfing down our mediocre burgers. But Ace pulled through in one way at least. He had tickets for a small show on the outskirts of campus and I knew the music would at least drown out his mindless chatter. His roommate apparently knew the band, and he’d used that hookup to sneak us in without ID’s—something I was grateful for and couldn’t do so easily without him.

While I wasn’t vibing with him, I was absolutely vibing with this venue. It was dark and grungy—the floor the sort of sticky that no mop could strip, the wooden booths lining the perimeter carved up with initials and plastered with stickers from the bands that had played here in years past, the bar lined with gray-haired dudes, who all gave me the sense that they’d been regulars since their college days.

It was the sort of place I would have hated working at—the stick alone, built up from years of beer spills, would have been a pain in the ass to deal with—but I loved getting to exist inside of it for one night.

According to my quick research on the place, it had been around for nearly seventy years and was a frequent haunt for Seattle’s literary and music scene. It was grimy and dark and something about being here made me feel settled in the city, just knowing that I was existing in the same place where so many artists had their start.

In short, I could happily suffer a less-than-perfect date for the chance to linger in here for a little while longer, listening to a newly formed band as they fought to find their sound amongst a cluster of college kids who were searching for their own sense of self with a similar sort of rigor. Fake it ‘til you make it, babes.

The band started a new song, this one slower than the last, and the lead-singer-slash-bassist crooned a soulful tune that drew in the crowd’s attention more than the previous songs had. She was talented, radiant, and it was clear that the band had a promising future—she just had to wait until the rest of them caught up to her.

My body moved to the beat, as if of its own accord, and I let myself sink into the sound, to connect to the chaotic atmosphere and the captive audience.

Until I felt my skin prickle with the sort of awareness that came with being watched. When my eyes snapped open, I expected to find Ace watching me from the bar—a thought that sent a shiver of discomfort down my spine.

But, instead, my eyes locked on Levi.

I froze when I saw him. It had been a month since that day on the canal, and we hadn’t heard from or seen him since.

He stood with his back propped up against the wall, half-hidden in shadows. Like before, he was dressed in black pants and a black T-shirt, his hand dangling a beer bottle next to his leg.

Eyes on me, he pressed the bottle to his lips and took a drink.

My stomach dipped under his attention, but I brushed the feeling away.

I offered a small wave, giving him the opportunity to pretend he didn’t see me if that’s what he wanted. Part of me hoped he ignored me, though I wasn’t sure why.

Instead, his brows lifted, and he spun around, as if expecting someone else to be standing next to him.

I smiled, my body still buzzing with adrenaline as the crowd around me swayed to the music. Who the hell else would I be waving to?

He nodded once, his lips twitching into a barely-there grin, but stayed where he was, as if giving me the same opportunity to bail. Usually, I would have.

Whenever I ran into a random acquaintance in the wild, I almost always did the normal thing of pretending I didn’t see them and continuing on my way. Seattle was a town of introverts, so that was usually the expected and preferred practice anyway

But the ambiance of the place put a spring in my step, and I found myself suddenly desperate for company more riveting than my date’s.

A quick glance over at Ace showed that he was still in line at the bar, so I maneuvered my way to Levi.

“Good to see you again,” I yelled, my voice getting swallowed up by the gravelly sound system.

His brows furrowed as he watched me.

He took another sip of his beer, and I couldn’t stop my eyes from tracing the liquid down the smooth column of his throat.

“You remember me?” He bent towards my ear, his words somehow undercutting the music where mine had failed.

“Yeah, of course,” I yelled back, my voice way less smooth than his as it tried to compete with the noise. “I wasn’t quite as drunk as Sora that night.”

Truthfully, Sora had been way more intoxicated than I’d initially realized, which I felt kind of bad about. Usually, I was better at gauging her pacing, but that night had been a strange one. We’d made it home without any particular issues. In fact, she hadn’t stumbled once or even slurred her words. But when I mentioned Levi the next day, she had absolutely no recollection of him.

Blacking out was rare for her, and her hangover hadn’t been particularly terrible, but apparently the tequila had done its job of helping her drown out her post-breakup angst.

“Hm.” The sound was like a low growl, and my stomach twisted as he studied me. It took everything in me not to squirm under his steady perusal. “Interesting.”

I wasn’t sure what was so interesting about that. Levi wasn’t the sort of guy someone could easily forget.

“So, you’re still in town then?” I hated myself as soon as the words were out of my mouth.

Obviously, he was still fucking in town, Mars.

He nodded, the expression on his face unreadable.

“Right.” My smile faltered slightly.

Levi’s posture stiffened, his nostrils flaring ever so slightly as he watched something behind me. He honestly seemed completely disinterested in continuing this conversation, but I had no idea how to bow out of it gracefully.

“You come here a lot?” I asked, kind of thankful when the drummer started a solo, effectively canceling out my voice.

Levi didn’t seem to hear me. That, or he did and just didn’t bother answering. Either way, he clearly didn’t feel like talking. Not like this was exactly the right venue for a stimulating conversation.

And it wasn’t like I wanted to pick up on our fate-versus-curse chat either.

“Thanks, by the way,” I yelled.

“For what?”

“Whatever you said to Chase that night—at Mac’s Tavern? He’s been way less of an asshole since the night you came in.”

It was true. Shifts with him had become downright pleasant. I wasn’t sure what kind of magic Levi wielded with his conversation, but we were all incredibly grateful for it.

He shrugged, his expression flattening. “Wasn’t me. I didn’t say anything.”

He fell back into silence, his focus lingering behind me—not even towards the stage. Part of me regretted walking over to say hi, now that I was just adjacent to his whole dark and broody vibe. It was somehow even more uncomfortable than if he’d just ignored my wave hello altogether.

I stood there for a moment, debated finding Ace, or just calling it a night, the trance of the music now long lost on me.

“Right,” I gave him a tight grin, “well, see you around I guess.” When I turned around to leave, I nearly ran into Ace.

Surprisingly, I found myself oddly excited to see him, if only so that his presence could act as a buffer for Levi’s stiffness.

“Hey man,” Ace shouted, the music picking up again and swallowing his voice. He handed me a beer, then placed a hand on my lower back. He nodded at Levi with a tight smile. “I’m Ace. You a friend of Mareena’s?”

I took a step to the side until his hand dropped away. I may have been glad that he saved me from rambling endlessly and embarrassing myself further, but that didn’t mean I wanted the tool to touch me.

Suddenly all I really wanted was to dip out of this place and curl up in my bed with a good movie or book. Salvage whatever was left of my night off.

Levi’s dark stare slid from me to my date, his eyes narrowing. “What did you put in that drink, Ace?”

Ace’s grin faltered for a moment, then doubled in size until it made my fake grin earlier look downright deserving of an Academy Award in comparison. “Not sure what you’re talking about, man.”

Levi grabbed the beer from me, and I jumped when his fingers brushed against mine.

He lifted the rim to his nose and sniffed, not once shifting his glare from Ace. “Let me be clearer this time, man . I saw you drop something in this beer. And then you gave it to Mareena. What did you spike it with?”

“It was nothing,” Ace said, though the color drained from his face when Levi took a step towards him, positioning himself between us. Ace held his hands up and took a few steps back, bumping into a random girl behind him. “Look, it’s no big deal, okay? Just a little something to help loosen her up, you know? We’re just trying to have some fun.”

My jaw clenched and a wave of fury shot through me—most of it directed at Ace, but there was a decent reserve saved for myself, too. Why the hell had I let this asshole I didn’t even know get my drink? I’d seen enough movies and news headlines to know better. I should’ve gone with him, watched the bartender open the bottle and taken it directly from his hands.

“You tried to drug me?” I asked, my voice crackling under my anger. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Dude, chill out, you don’t need to blow this out of proportion,” he shot back.

Levi was tense, and he shifted towards Ace, positioning himself between us.

“Out of proportion?” I yelled, completely unconcerned with the looks we were drawing from the cluster of people surrounding us.

“I’m sorry, okay,” Ace said, then started to move towards me. “It was a mistake. Won’t happen again.”

I snorted. Again? This dude actually thought I’d stick around with him long enough for there to be another opportunity?

“Stay the fuck away from her.” Levi’s voice was low, but the threatening growl of it somehow carried over the music.

“This isn’t your business,” Ace shot back, his expression twisting into something darker. “This is between me and the girl—stay out of it.”

The girl. Who the fuck did this guy think he was?

Levi shifted so that one second he was standing between me and Ace, and the next he had Ace flattened against the wall, his forearm pressed against his neck.

The panicked look in Ace’s eyes and his mouth’s fish-like mawing made it clear he was struggling to get a gulp of air in.

I grabbed Levi’s shoulder, aware that the attention we were drawing was slowly growing more interested in us than the band, but he didn’t budge. “Levi, stop.”

He glanced back at me, the question and surprise clear on his face.

“Let him go,” I said. “I appreciate the assist, but I don’t need your help. I can handle it from here.”

A muscle in Levi’s jaw pumped, and I could tell he wanted to argue.

“Let him go,” I repeated, my voice firm now.

Ace was turning purple, his hands clawing at Levi’s arm, though to little effect—Levi hardly seemed to notice, even though Ace had started to draw blood.

Slowly, not once taking his eyes off me, Levi removed his arm, letting Ace slide down the wall, gasping as he fought to suck in a breath.

“Thank you,” I said, then I turned my fury on Ace. “You actually spiked my drink? And you have the audacity to act like my anger is blowing this out of proportion? What the fuck is wrong with you? How many people have you done this to?”

“That dude is fucking nuts.” Ace coughed as he found his footing, his hand massaging the base of his neck. “Look, Mareena?—”

Before he had a chance to fire whichever excuse he was going to pull out of his ass, I pummeled my fist into his face with every ounce of strength I could muster.

In my head, it seemed like a good idea, but several things happened at once, proving me wrong.

Ace fell to the side before landing on his ass, his nose blossoming into a fountain of blood which, to be fair, was pretty great.

But pain, hot and angry, shot through my hand, and the momentum of the punch dipped me forward until I went spilling down on top of him—stopped only by a firm arm around my waist that held me steady.

The music faded, then stopped altogether when the drummer realized he was playing alone.

Whatever cover we had here in the shadows, on the perimeter of the dance floor, was now long gone. The bouncer at the door came barreling through a shocked crowd that was torn half between backing away to give us space and inching closer to see what might happen next.

“What the fuck?” Ace yelled, his fingers delicately tracing his face, where his nose was now bent at an angle that it hadn’t been before. “My nose—you fucking bitch.” He turned to the bouncer, “She fucking hit me. Don’t just stand there. Do something. Get them out of here.”

The bouncer was a large, bald, white man, stacked with muscle so thick it cannibalized his neck. His face was etched with a scowl so deep that I actually flinched when he turned it on me.

“He drugged her,” Levi said, his voice was calm and carried smoothly now that the room was shrouded in virtual silence. His arm was still around me, keeping me in place even though I was no longer at risk of falling. He shoved the bottle in his free hand towards the bouncer “Check the beer if you don’t believe me. This wasn’t her fault. The prick got what he deserved.” Levi glanced down at Ace, his face carved into a dark scowl. “Far less, if I’m being honest.”

There was so much loathing in that look that I wondered, briefly, if Levi would’ve suffocated him to death if I hadn’t asked him to let up.

Whatever color was left in Ace’s face immediately fled the scene as the crowd started to whisper around us, their curious expressions now shifting to disgust. His teeth were lined with red, and the front one appeared chipped from this angle. “Look man, I’ll go, okay. She’s an uptight bitch—and he’s an asshole. Don’t believe them. I didn’t do anything. She didn’t even drink it.”

The bouncer held the bottle loosely at his side as he surveyed the scene, clearly at a loss for how to handle the situation. How often did this sort of thing happen?

Ace took his momentary pause as an opportunity. He kicked the bottle out of the bouncer’s hand, shattering it at our feet. The liquid poured everywhere, dissipating and sinking into the already wet, beer-coated floor.

Ace shot me a satisfied smirk, made ridiculous by the smear of blood smeared across his mouth.

With a sinking feeling, I realized what he’d done. The dickhole destroyed the evidence. He was going to get away with it.

I lunged towards him, my vision swimming with a visceral, hot rage I was desperate to release, but Levi’s grip held firm.

“Stop,” he said, voice low in my ear. “You’ve already hurt your hand. He’s not worth any more damage.”

“I don’t give a shit about my hand,” I screamed back. Right now, I hardly even felt it. The only thing I felt was the violent bloom of anger that was making my head swim.

Levi said something else, whether to me or the bouncer I couldn’t tell. I didn’t care.

All I saw was red, the injustice of the situation flooding my system with such a furious wave that I could taste it on my tongue.

I wanted to dig my nails into the creep’s smug face and claw at him until it was unrecognizable.

The reality of the situation settled over me, hot and searing. What would have happened if I had taken a sip of that beer? If Levi hadn’t been here, hadn’t said something? What if Ace got away with this and tried it again on someone else? His parents were rich, he had everything he could possibly want—why wasn’t it enough? Why was it never enough? Why did men do this shit and why did it feel like they always got away with it? Why did men?—

Nope, that was the end of my thought. Just why did men? Period, full stop.

After a moment of burning heat, the fight slowly bled out of me, leaving only an aching soul-deep exhaustion. There was no winning in this situation. Pricks like Ace always got away with this shit—if not tonight with the bouncer, then tomorrow with his parents paying off whoever they needed to in order to make the accusations disappear.

What was the point in fighting it? All I got in return was a now-throbbing hand.

When I stopped resisting him, Levi let me go.

He bent down over Ace, though I couldn’t catch what he said.

Ace’s expression flattened into fear, like he’d seen a ghost. His body trembled on the ground, but he only nodded, the smug look in his eyes now blank.

Levi glanced back at me, making sure I was still exercising restraint, then spoke briefly with the bouncer.

I didn’t really want to stick around long enough to catch the highlights of their conversation. I had no intention of waiting for the bouncer to escort me out or call the cops. The last thing I needed was to deal with the police. Fuck that.

I’d only just gotten my life and identity back. I wasn’t about to throw it all away.

When I tried to leave, my body chose that exact moment to lock.

My chest was tight, like it couldn’t suck in a full breath of air. Though the music had stopped, the whispers and sounds suddenly felt too loud and chaotic to stomach for another second longer. They slurred together until it felt almost like I had been drugged.

The people and lights and noises surrounding me blurred at the edges until the scene came to me in stilted clusters.

I felt like I was going to scream or pass out if I didn’t get a fresh breath of air in my lungs—maybe both.

When a hand grabbed my upper arm, I flinched.

Something flashed across Levi’s expression when he came back into focus. He let my arm go, then took a step back. “Sorry.”

I shook my head, my limbs suddenly mine again, then wound my way through the crowd, not stopping until I made it outside. I sucked in a breath, relishing the feel of the cool evening breeze on my skin.

For a minute, I simply stood there, trying like hell to regulate my breathing.

I’d had enough panic attacks in my life to know that I was on the edge of one right now. I dug my nails into my palm, fighting like hell to focus on the sensation of it.

I wanted to go home.

No, I wanted to rewind time so that tonight never even happened in the first place.

And I wanted Sora.

But she would be out late for a work thing. She’d ditch it immediately, of course, if I called her and told her what happened, but that was why I didn’t want to. No sense ruining her evening. There’d been enough collateral damage already tonight.

My hand pulsed, like it had a heartbeat of its own, the pain flaring now that my body was settling back into itself.

My knuckles were already swollen, two of them cut and bloody. I must’ve hit Ace’s teeth.

And my thumb—I hissed when I tried to bend it.

Fuck, it hurt.

Why did punching someone always seem so simple and easy in the movies? From the look of it now, I’d probably done just as much damage to myself as I had to Ace.

“Let me see it.”

I spun around, only to find my eyes level with Levi’s chest. I stepped back, shaking my head. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Mars, let me see it.”

“Don’t call me that,” I snapped. “Only Sora calls me that.”

I was being ridiculous, given the events of the evening, but I couldn’t bring myself to care.

Sora gave me that nickname years ago, the night we ran. When I’d bristled, she’d insisted.

“You give someone a nickname when you’re close. We’re going to be close, Mars. Whether you want to be or not. You’re not getting rid of me, especially not now. Not after everything. We’re all we have.”

When she’d said that name—Mars—my chest had cracked open. I hadn’t heard it in years.

Not since Amto Amani. After losing her, and then Rina, my first real friend in a long time, I’d been desperate for connection. Sora had seen the worst of me—had seen me literally take someone’s life. And still, she wanted to stay. In fact, she demanded it. Any other circumstance, and I’d have been better about pushing her away, keeping my distance. We were starting fresh, somewhere new—it should have been easy, walking away from her. But for some reason, some undeniable weakness, I didn’t.

Nicknames, especially that one, were reserved for people who stuck around, or at least intended to. There was a permanence there, a familiarity. I didn’t have the capacity for any more connections. Nicknames were for friends.

Whatever Levi was, he wasn’t my friend.

“Sorry.” He offered a careful smile and took a slow step towards me, the kind of hesitation you’d find with someone approaching a feral animal. Maybe I was. “Mareena, can I please take a look at your hand?”

I pulled it against my chest and stepped back. “I said I’m fine. My hand is fine.”

He sighed, then ran his hand through his hair. “You’re going to make this more difficult than it needs to be, aren’t you?” His eyes locked on mine, his expression flattening into a strange stiffness. “Let me look at your hand.”

“No.”

Surprise flickered in his face. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

His eyes held mine for a beat, but then he shook his head. “Nevermind.”

I stared at him, my blood pumping angrily into my hand until pain was the only thing I could feel.

He smirked. “Unclench your jaw, okay? I promise I won’t hurt you. Please just let me take a look, I’m used to assessing these kinds of injuries.”

I exhaled, watching him, then shifted my jaw from side to side. It was tight. He was right, I had been clenching. For some reason, that only annoyed me more. Slowly, I extended my hand towards him, figuring this would be the quickest way to get him off my case. “It’s just a cut. I’ll be fine.”

He arched his brow, then took my hand. “You’re not used to people trying to help you, are you?”

I hissed, pulling my hand back when his thumb brushed over my knuckles.

“Sorry,” he whispered, almost absurdly gentle now as he examined my bones, the pads of his fingers pressing down with a light pressure, his eyes shifting between my hands and my face as if trying to gauge how much each movement hurt. “You know, you have almost comically bad punching form. First time, I take it?”

I pulled my hand back with a snarl.

It wasn’t, but the last time hadn’t gone so well either. Not that I was going to tell him that. “Haven’t had a ton of practice. I’m not usually a violent person.” I bit my lip, before adding a grumbled, “But the asshole deserved it.”

“Yeah, he did,” he said, his jaw tight. “He deserved worse than that, actually, but he’ll get what’s coming to him.”

“Unclench your jaw,” I said with a smirk, then narrowed my eyes. “What did you say to him anyway? He looked more afraid of what you said than he’d been of my fist.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

I studied him for a moment, not entirely sure why I was being so stubborn. It wasn’t Levi’s fault that Ace tried to drug me. It also wasn’t Levi’s fault that I hurt my hand. If anything, I owed him.

But something about him just made me want to wear an extra shield, a coat of armor.

“Thank you,” I snapped.

“You know,” his face broke into a grin that had the outline of his left dimple making a guest appearance, “I can really feel your gratitude.” He rubbed his chest, his eyes brimming with constrained mirth. “Truly, like the rays of the sun. Maybe even warmer.”

Instinct had me ready to lash out again, but I swallowed the urge back and winced. Might as well have swallowed razor blades.

I took a deep breath, ready to try again. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to take tonight’s events out on you. None of this was your fault.” My gaze dipped down, unable to hold his stare. Once my body and brain were in defensive mode, it was nearly impossible to pull them quickly out. “Thank you for calling him out. I don’t know what would have happened if—if?—”

The thought died on my lips, and when I was brave enough to look back up at him, his expression was grim.

“Thank you as well.”

“For what?”

“For stopping me,” he said. “I’m supposed to be keeping a low profile, and I don’t know what I would have done if you didn’t tell me to let him go.”

I nodded, remembering the look on his face when he held Ace against the wall.

How far would he have gone?

After a long, tense moment, he cleared his throat, his gaze dropping down to my hand. “Well, I don’t think you broke anything, but it’s not a bad idea to swing by the ER just to make sure. I can take you?—”

“No.”

While I was truly grateful for my job at the Tavern, it didn’t exactly come with winning benefits. And any free insurance I had through the state was basically trash. The only thing that would make the rest of my night worse than it already was would involve sinking into debt because some prick tried to take advantage of my momentary lapse in judgement.

Levi shoved his hands in his pockets and studied me. I could tell he wanted to press the issue, but whatever he saw in my eyes must’ve convinced him not to. He glanced down the street, then back at me. “Alright. No hospital. But there’s a convenience store down the street. Let me get your hand cleaned up at least, put some ice on it.”

Though my knee-jerk reaction was to fight him on that, too, I relented. I needed to take the wins when and where I could. “Fine.”

We were silent as we made our way down the block, and I followed him awkwardly while he grabbed a bag of frozen peas, some bottled water, alcohol, and bandages, mentally calculating how much this concession was going to run me.

But when we got to the counter, he refused to let me pay.

After two minutes of arguing the point and a glare from the overworked cashier, I bit my tongue and let him fork over the cash.

He pulled me under a lamppost, the yellow glow illuminating a swarm of insects flying above our heads.

With gentle hands, he got to work cleaning the wound.

I only flinched once, which I was proud of.

He placed the bag of peas over my hand and my body relaxed with relief. “Keep this on.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled, glancing up at him.

He grinned. “No problem. Can I walk you home?”

I shook my head. “No, I’ll be okay.”

“For my peace, not yours.” He shrugged, sending that teasing smirk into his eyes again. “I get very few opportunities to be chivalrous. Please don’t take this from me.” His lip twitched as he watched me. “It’s the least you can do, to repay me for saving your life and all.”

“Oh please.” It took everything I had not to roll my eyes, so there was no restraint left to bite back my grin. “Fine. But then we’re even.”

“Deal.”

It wasn’t a ridiculously long walk by most standards—just twenty or thirty minutes—and I’d make sure to ditch him a block or two before I got to the apartment. There was no reason he needed to know my exact address.

If anything, after tonight, I was doubling down on my trust no one rule.

“I can teach you how to fight,” he said, a few minutes into our walk. We’d both been silent, lost in our thoughts. “If you want, I mean.”

I arched my brow. “Yeah? And what exactly would you get out of that?”

Levi was nice and had so far proven not to be an axe murderer, but there was an edge to him that made it clear that nice didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous. And he definitely didn’t seem like the sort of person who went about his day with altruism as his north star.

“Does it have to be transactional?” he asked.

“Everything is transactional.”

“Then,” the corner of his lips curved before flattening again, “I guess I just want more exposure to that prickly personality of yours.”

“I’m not prickly,” I snapped back.

He let out a bark of a laugh.

“I’m . . . guarded.” My cheeks flamed. “And for good reason. In fact, if I’d been more guarded tonight,” I held up my hand and the pitifully wet bag of peas attached to it, “maybe this would have never happened.”

A fresh wave of shame, coated in a healthy helping of anger, surged through me. Why was it always like that? The one night I actually tried to just go with the flow for once, to have fun, this shit happened. I was actually enjoying myself, too. Not Ace specifically of course, but the bar, the music, the students. I’d even been almost happy to see Levi standing there, all broody and mysterious on the perimeter.

It was like the universe was scolding me for letting loose, letting my armor down.

“Fair enough. He shrugged, the shadow of a smirk flattening into something sadder. “It can be a trade then.”

I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. “I’m not sleeping with you.”

“That’s not—I’m not—” He made a weird sound in the back of his throat. “That’s not what I’m suggesting. I don’t really know anyone around here. And it looks like I’ll be stuck working near town for a bit. It would be nice to see a—” he paused, searching for a word, then smiled when he found it, “friendly face.”

I grunted at his choice.

“And,” he continued, “I meant what I said that day. I enjoyed hanging out with you and Sora, getting to see a small sliver into your world. It’s rare, you know—having someone like that who looks out for you, who you look out for?”

“I’m not in the market for more friends.”

“Clearly.” He smirked. “Not friends then. Colleagues. I’ll give you a lesson on how to punch assholes without hurting yourself. You give me a tour around the area. Win, win.”

“They have tour guides for that.”

Levi didn’t wear designer labels or anything that screamed money, but I could tell from the look of his clothes that they were made of good, probably expensive material. And he was here for work, which probably meant tech, and he carried himself with the sort of confidence that comfort conveyed. Something told me he wasn’t hurting for money—paying for a guide was probably in his budget.

“Tour guides are too,” he slid his hands in his pockets, considering, “perky.”

Fair enough, I couldn’t argue with him there. “And you’d prefer prickly?”

“Every day of the week.”

“Fine.” I sighed, almost regretting the decision already. “But if you want to see anything that requires admission, that’s on your dime, not mine.” I held out my good hand. “Give me your phone.”

He didn’t bother reigning in his victorious grin as he did.

I plugged my number in, setting my name as Prickly Rick Steves.

It took me longer than usual to punch in, my right hand was now both sore and numb.

“Thanks,” he glanced down before pocketing it, “Rick.”

“No problem.” We came to an intersection, and I turned to him. “This is where we part.”

He glanced at the gas station on one side of us, and the fast-food restaurant on the other. “I don’t see an apartment building.”

I shot him a look. “After the night I had, you didn’t really expect me to show a stranger where I live, did you?”

He bit back a grin. “Reasonable point.”

I lifted the now-soggy bag. “Thanks for the peas.”

“Any time.”

When I got home, I had a new text:

Levi: “Home safe?”

Me: “Yes.”

Levi: “Good. See you soon, Rick.’

Levi: “P.S. Feel free to save this number under “Hot, Mysterious Savior.”

I smiled to myself, then logged his number under Discount Rocky Balboa instead.