Chapter 1
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The frigid night air smacked her skin as she shoved through the doors. She instinctively pulled her coat tighter, and dug her hands in her pockets. Her intuition was off tonight.
She had a lovely conversation with a stranger at the bar. Casual, light - but genuine. She was a people watcher, though what she loved more was the open communication that only chance encounters could give. A brief window into another life, and then they're gone. Building stories in her head, she'd fill in the gaps later with hints and clues from the plot she was handed.
But tonight was different. The story was unsettling. It seemed innocent enough, on the surface. A casual gentleman who wanted some company, however small. She was happy to oblige, always eager to touch on humanity for a moment. A quiet talk over bourbon and wine. Pure intent and naivety sometimes acted as blinders for her, though, and there was something else - something darker that prickled the hair on her neck. She felt the guarded caution hidden behind the nonchalant tone. The careful eye that would slip her way when she would shift on the stool.
Her hand gripped the folded knife in her pocket tightly, til metal bit into skin. A subtle reminder of shrewd vigilance. She shook her head, tossing off the dark thoughts creeping slowly. It was silly - only her imagination.
She searched the deserted city streets quietly, pressing herself against the brick of the corner building. The cold was a warden tonight. Her hand released its grip, sighing heavily as she dug through her pocketbook, searching. There it was. Her numbing hands plucked a cigarette from the depths, and pinched it between her lips tightly as she fumbled with her lighter, flicking the wheel roughly with her thumb. The flint struck the metal, a tiny flame weakly flickering.
A steely wind slammed through suddenly, extinguishing the flame as it tore through her nylons. Her legs trembled, her feet shuffling to balance in her heels. Her body hunched, her eyes forgetting their watchful sentry on the street before her, and she turned her body toward the brick, using her back as a shield. Shit, shit. She struck her thumb desperately over the lighter, again and again. There it is. Her lips tugged on the cigarette, drawing the flame inward quickly. A trickle of smoke teased upward, lingering briefly before disappearing into the frigid night sky.
She spun deftly on the balls of her feet, pressing her back against the brick again, as she blew a thicker cloud of smoke outward, dropping her hands to her sides. She shoved her hand into her pocket again, fingers searching for her insurance. Her back stiffened as panic set in.
Gone. It was gone.
Her eyes darted around her anxiously as she thrust her hand into her pockets, purse, hidden compartments. She shoved the cigarette between her lips as she twisted around her, searching. How?
A soft crunch of gravel pricked her ears. Her body launched itself upright, back stiffening as she turned toward the sound.
The stranger.
He stood a few feet from her, his palm open. The knife. The blade was open, naked metal twinkling. Her eyes widened, breath hitching in her throat. She hand nervously snatched the cigarette from her mouth, a dark cloud of smoke hovering between them. Her hand dropped limply to her side as she pressed her back harder against the brick.
"Missing this?" His voice was low, firm. Darkly resonant, placidly composed. Malevolent sound dressed in a rich suit.
Her voice caught in her throat, eking out a plaintiff pitch, before nodding her head quietly.
"Quite a fine blade you have here. What's a lady doing with a ripper like this?" His mouth twitched a grin, as his eyes fixed on hers. Her muscles tensed, and she stood taller, straightening against the wall.
"A girl can never be too careful these days, y'know?" She giggled nervously, flipping her head to the side, tossing her hair coquettishly. "Thank you ever so much, sir. Won't you hand it back?" Her voice dipped into the disarming southern drawl of her youth, reserved for persuasion and mollification.
She watched him carefully, the faΓ§ade of a smile fixed on her nervous lips. He stepped forward, his body looming closer, palm still open and outstretched. Her hand shook restlessly as she reached toward him, releasing the cigarette carelessly to the ground. Her eyes held his gaze steadily as her fingers touched the blade.
"Ah ah. What do you say?" His hand jerked back an inch, his mouth still twisted into a grin. A soft tsk.