Bound - Page 32/119

She raised her arms and grabbed two handfuls of his hair. Before she could pull hard, he let her go.

“That wouldn’t work if I were a bald man.”

She faced him. “Isn’t self-defense all about adapting? I would’ve tried another move on a bald guy.”

“Show me.”

Dammit. She’d fallen right into that one.

His muscled arm snaked around her throat. This time she reached for his ears, intending to tear them off his head, but he dodged her. Same thing when she attempted to scratch his face or gouge at his eyes.

“Think.”

“There isn’t an automatic response for me yet, like there is for you,” she choked out. “This is only the second class. I don’t think I’ve even learned some of the maneuvers you expect me to know.”

“Then next class you’d better pay closer attention because there will be a test afterward.”

Yippee.

Master Black dropped his arm and stood in front of her, blocking her from the room. “I will push you, Amery, because I have a personal interest in your safety.”

Sandan Zach clapped his hands and said, “Everyone line up.”

Sensei offered her a bow and disappeared around the corner.

And she still found it really hard to concentrate for the remainder of class even when he wasn’t in the room.

• • •

AFTER class, Molly was quieter than usual. Amery should’ve let it go, but that wasn’t her way. “Something wrong?”

Molly whirled on her. “How is it fair that you get Sensei Black’s personal attention? I was the one who was traumatized after being attacked by a homeless thug, not you. I’m the one who needs to know how to defend myself. But this class is just like everything else in my life.”

“What do you mean like everything else in your life?”

“Forget it.”

Count to ten. “No, Molly, you started it. Tell me.”

“You won’t understand. You’re so pretty that everyone is drawn to you. And it’s stupid for me to be jealous of the attention you’re getting from Master Black, because even if you weren’t there, he wouldn’t be focusing that attention on me. I don’t shine like you do. I’m just a bland blob that everyone overlooks.”

Amery was shocked and a little pissed off by this conversation. “Why did you ask me to attend this class with you?”

“Because I didn’t want to go by myself.”

“So by having me there as your crutch, you don’t have to mingle with other students, you don’t have to step out of your comfort zone. That’s what this all boils down to, Molly.”

“No, it boils down to I’m a freak who’s having a hard time making friends here. Then it seems I’ve been on the outside looking in my whole life.”

And whose fault is that? Amery didn’t voice that, but she certainly thought it. She’d been raised that way and she’d overcome it. Molly could overcome it too. But she wasn’t even trying. “You can change that.”

“I don’t know how.”

“Getting ticked off at me isn’t the way to do it.”

“So how did you meet people after you moved to Denver?”

“I made sure I was open to it. I introduced myself to my neighbors. I’ve tried to get to know some of the people who live on this block, whether they’re working at the coffee shop or they own the business across the street. I’ve had smoothies with a couple women in my yoga class. I’m sure there are people in your master’s program who’d love to hang out with you. Do you know anyone in your apartment complex?”

“I’ve met a few people.” Molly sighed. “When I act bold it doesn’t feel right.”

I know how that goes. “Take it one step at a time. Tell yourself you’re going to connect with one person each week who is out of your normal realm.”

“Okay.”

She pulled up to Molly’s apartment building.

Molly faced her. “Thanks, Amery. And sorry for . . .”

“No worries. It gets easier. But, sweetie, you’ve gotta try.”

“I will. I promise.”

• • •

AN hour later Amery stood at the front window in her living room, watching the rare summer rain. She’d opened the windows to let the scent of warm, wet concrete fill the room. The curtains billowed in the damp breeze and droplets spattered against the floor.

There was something so cleansing about rain. Something soothing.

Her phone buzzed on the coffee table. Tempting to ignore it and wallow in the fresh air, letting the rain wash away her troubles for one night.

But she picked it up and felt that little twist in her stomach when she saw Ronin’s name. She answered, “Yes?”

“I’m in back, soaked to the bone. I’ve been beating on the door for five minutes. Will you please let me in?”

She’d been so lost in thought she hadn’t heard him. Ironic that most of her thoughts had been about him.

After ending the call, she made her way down the spiral staircase. She swung open the heavy door and momentarily lost the ability to breathe.

The streetlamp bathed Ronin in a silvery glow. Water dripped off the ends of his hair and ran in rivulets down the planes and angles of his face. Droplets sparkled like liquid diamonds and flowed down his black leather coat.

He stared at her, equally mesmerized. In that moment she knew what would happen if she let him in. But he didn’t push. Didn’t speak. He left the decision up to her.