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A pit formed in Grace’s stomach at the realization. It wasn’t the first time she had the thought; it usually snuck in during the times she mused on just how damn lucky she was to have found Rick at all. She supposed she had to thank Tommy for that. If he hadn’t chased her out of her first home, the city, then Dayton, she never would’ve gone to Hamlet. She never would’ve met Rick.
And now that she did? Grace was willing to do whatever she had to to make sure that Tommy didn’t.
Determination mixed with the frantic beat of the freestyle song blasting in her ears. She switched up her choreography, slipping seamlessly from classical to a contemporary style. Grace threw everything she had into each movement, while she did everything she could to push any thoughts of Tommy Mathers out of her head.
Two months. She’d been in Hamlet two months and, except for the outsider sighting at Jefferson’s, the gossips in town hadn’t caught a single whisper of any others. Maria said Sly was on the lookout for Tommy’s shiny black Jaguar. A car like that would stick out like a sore thumb on Hamlet’s empty roads.
Nothing so far. She didn’t know if that was good, or foreboding.
Maybe he finally took the hint. Maybe Tommy had finally given up—
As the song faded out, Grace landed from her last leap, her chest heaving with exertion. Exertion and a smidge of hope—
Applause broke out behind her.
She froze. Sucking in a breath, shivers coursing up and down her bowed spine, she went as still as a statue. The enthusiastic clapping was drowned out by the opening chords of another song. The spell broke. She reached up quickly, jerking the headphones off so that she could make sure she wasn’t hearing things.
Nope. That was applause.
That was an unexpected audience.
It couldn’t be the girls. All three of them left more than an hour ago when class ended. Not Maria, either. She allowed Grace the use of the foyer for her dance lessons as much as her self-defense lessons. While Grace taught the girls, Maria locked herself in her room, working on a secret painting that she planned on giving Sly for Christmas in a couple of weeks.
Rick said he would meet her at six. The man was as honest as he was careful not to push her too hard, too fast. He’d be there at six, not a minute before.
Since it was still light enough out, it couldn’t be any later than five o’clock.
She gulped, torn between wanting to face whoever was behind her and sprinting for the trees without ever checking. Lost in her music, lost in the dance, she had irrationally let herself forget. She let herself forget who she was, where she was, why she was hiding. Now she was trapped behind Ophelia, with the woods in front of her and a stranger behind her.
Tommy used to beg for her to dance for him. Only for him. He would always clap at the end, too.
Easy pickings, Gracey. What were you thinking?
The answer was: she wasn’t. At least, not about her own skin. Safety plan? What safety plan?
So consumed with worrying about hiding the truth of her entire history with Tommy, Grace forgot that she was sup
posed to be hiding from him. Somehow, between settling in at Ophelia, starting a new life here with friends, students, and a lover, Grace forgot that the biggest threat was in how far he was willing to go to take her he back.
And she was alone. Or, she was.
That didn’t mean that it was Tommy lurking close by. It could be anyone—
Please, oh, please don’t let it be him.
Her heart lodged in her throat, it was a miracle that she managed to sound as calm and collected as she did as she called out behind her. “I’m sorry. Class is over for the week. If you want to join us, we meet every Friday at three. Leotards optional.”
“Jeeze, I’d freeze my tits off if I wore a leotard in December. I don’t know how you do it.”
At the first word, Grace’s head jerked up. The voice was familiar enough—it just wasn’t the one she had expected to hear. Not after what happened at the coffeeshop. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw she was right.
Natalie Newton stood by the corner. She had on a bulky sweater and a lumpy multi-colored scarf that screamed home-made. In contrast to the thin leotard and leggings Grace wore while she danced, the other woman looked dressed for winter.
She was also dressed as a civilian. Since Grace knew that both Sly and Ethan were on patrol, it was a safe bet that she was off duty.
Off duty and searching for her at Ophelia.
Wonderful. Was it insane that a tiny sliver of her would have rathered it be Tommy? At least, then, tense, terrifying moments like these would be finally over and done with. Her heart was thumping wildly, her anxiety ratcheting up way past a level ten. Applause shouldn’t make her feel like she was ready to jump out of her own skin.
