Page 34 of The Sound of Silence

“Keep it. It’s one of my older drills. I have plenty more where that came from.”

“And the bat? What’s that for?”

A hard look flashed hot across his face, then he smiled knowingly.

“Just in case your new lock fails. I mean, sure, you can take those fancy self-defense classes they offer at The Mill, but sometimes it’s best to handle things the old-fashioned way,” he said with a wink.

When he walked away, I stared slack-jawed until he rounded the corner and was out of sight. For the first time, I began to wonder how much Teddy had told Oscar. I didn’t know if I should be worried or relieved that I had someone here in my corner.

I glanced down at the wood bat he’d left for me. I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, I’d keep the bat right next to my bed. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought about getting one before. His mention of self-defense classes sparked my interest, and I wondered if I should wander over to the gym. I looked at the mess of tools and gadgets surrounding me. I was halfway done with adding extra security to my door. When I was finished, I decided I’d check out the gym. Learning self-defense was never a bad idea.

And maybe—just maybe—I’d catch a glimpse of Derek Mills while I was there.

* * *

I pushedthrough the turn-style doors to The Mill. Bright fluorescent lighting gleamed on expensive workout equipment and the smell of sweat and rubber permeated the air. Sneakers pounding on treadmills, the thumping of a racquetball, and the motivational shouts from a spotter for a nearby weightlifter created high-octane energy.

Walking over to a stand that held various brochures advertising the offerings at the gym, I located the one pertaining to self-defense. I perused the information, pleased with what I read, then stopped short when I saw the price tag. There was no way I could afford it on my current budget. I closed the brochure and went to put it back on the stand but paused as I took in the picture of the female on the cover. She was in a fighting stance, appearing proud and confident. What struck me most about her was the fierce look in her eyes. I envied that look in ways I couldn’t even begin to process.

A tap on my shoulder nearly made me jump out of my skin and brought me out of my reverie. When I spun around, Derek Mills stood before me looking apologetic.

“Shit!” I cursed, clutching my chest. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to. I called your name three times, but you must not have heard me.”

“You did?”

“Your nameisVal, right?” he joked. He was smiling but wore a peculiar look, almost as if he knew that wasn’t my name. My stomach dropped. I’d need to get used to responding to a different name or risk blowing my cover.

“Yeah… Val. My name is Val,” I told him, desperately trying to get used to the sound of my new name rolling off my tongue. Derek narrowed his eyes curiously, then relaxed into an easy smile.

“Well, Val, what brings you here? You ready to cash in on that free trial month?”

“I don’t know yet. I was just looking over the brochures. Is the self-defense class included in the trial?”

“Everything you see listed is included. However, I should let you know that the self-defense class only meets twice a week. To get the full training benefits, you really need to take the class for three months.”

My shoulders sagged at the mere thought of how much that would set me back.

“I’ll have to think about it,” I told him. “I’ll definitely do the free trial, but I’m still relatively new to the city and need to find a job before I can commit to anything longer.”

“Hmmm, maybe I can help you out. What kind of experience do you have?” His smile was easy, and he was standing just close enough for me to catch his scent. The subtle cologne he wore smelled aquatic and woody with just a hint of spice. It reminded me of being near a lake surrounded by evergreens.

“I hate to admit it, but it’s not much—just waitressing and bartending for the most part.”

“Actually, you’re in luck. My sister and her husband own a restaurant called Camilla’s. It’s a trendy Italian place. My bother-in-law recently mentioned that he was looking for a good waitress. They do pretty well over there. The place is always hopping and the tips are good from what I hear.”

“Where’s the restaurant?” I asked, feeling a shred of hope for the first time since coming to this city.

“Little Italy,” he told me. I pinched my brow together and tried to remember where that was. He must have sensed my question because he elaborated. “It’s about a thirty-minute subway ride from here. I can show you if you have trouble figuring it out.”

I nodded my head as I recalled the routes I’d studied on the New York City subway map.

“I think I can figure it out, but thanks. How can I get a hold of your brother-in-law?”

“His name is Christopher. Christopher Pastori. I can call him for you. But…” He trailed off, pinching his brows together, appearing concerned and hesitant at the same time.

“But what?” I prodded.

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