“Black in Back” (Part II)

“You think I’m doing this for you?” he demanded later, incredulous. “Think again, sister. Raymond is building a sling for two, and my ass means more to me than yours.”

“Then maybe we should split up.”

“Stick to the plan, sweetheart. You liked it well enough when you thought of it.”

Tess wanted to cry again. Or scream. Or both. She had moments when she felt reasonably calm, but those moments were brief and too frequently overcome by fear. She tried to compose herself by sorting through the clothes Aurora had brought for her. It didn’t take long; there was only one pair of jeans, a dark blue hoodie, a strappy chemise to go under it, and a grey t-shirt for cooler days.

Black was still scowling at her when she finished taking inventory. “You know what you’re doing today, right?”

“I’m picking up my car, then getting you some new clothes.”

“Newer,” he specified. “I don’t have a problem with thrift store rejects.”

“That’s a surprise. I thought you had a problem with everything.”

They glared at each other for an ice-hot moment. Tess fluctuated from liking him to wanting to like him to not liking him at all. It was hard to remember how she had felt with him after the Four Seasons, but she wished it had stuck around for more than twenty-four hours. She had a vague memory of weeping in his arms while he praised her courage against the vampires. For the first time since Travis’s death, she had felt safe—and now he was being a first degree asshole for no reason unless …

Her eyes widened on his. His narrowed, warning her through his shades.

“How long have you lived in the city?”

“Longer than you have, sweetheart.”

“What makes you think I wasn’t born here?”

“I know a rube when I see one.”

That hurt. She might have dropped in from the prairies like Dorothy into Oz, but she had made something of herself. She had a name and a good reputation; she’d made decent money and had loved a good man. She owned her vehicle outright and she wore nice clothes—not designer, exactly, but pretty close—and she was fairly sure she’d accomplished everything in far less time than Black had spent in squalor on the waterfront.

Not that it mattered, since she was about to abandon it all.

Travis, why did you have to go and die?

………

Even if Gary was working on another vehicle when she came into the shop, he’d wave and call her name. Travis had teased that he had a crush on her. Tess had scoffed, but whether or not it was so, her ten-year-old Nissan always received the same gold star treatment as Trav’s newer BMW.

She took renewed stock of her wheels on arriving to collect them that morning. Old, weathered, grey, completely unassuming. Black would approve, though he’d be snarky about it.

“Terasina!”

She looked toward the greeting and began to smile. Gary was way ahead of her, already grinning, until he hitched up and blinked as if he had hailed the wrong customer. Then she remembered her dyed and undone hair. She promptly adopted her ladyship attitude to put him at ease.

“Good morning, Gary. Is the carriage ready to go?”

Somewhat reassured, he continued his approach. “Good as new, milady. Apologies for the wait.”

“And the bill?”

He wagged a grimy hand in a yea/nay gesture. “Not so bad if you’ve got credit. Carrie will be happy to take your money once you’re satisfied with the job.”

“I just need it to start, stop, and run at speed. I’m getting out of town for a while.” As the last words left her lips, she wished they hadn’t. The fewer people who knew of her plans, the better—safer—they would be.

But Gary nodded sympathetically. “It’s good to get away. It clears your head.” He was staring at her hair as if he had reservations. Tess called him on it.

“You don’t like the colour?”

His smile flashed sheepishly. “Gentlemen prefer blondes.”

“I just want a change,” she said. “It’s not forever.”

She hoped.

………

She hit the thrift store next. Black had given her his size for jeans and she guessed at the shirts. He had warned her off dress or designer anything, but she liked button-down shirts enough to wonder how he’d look in one. His bare forearms suggested fine biceps so she grabbed a few tanks as well, in black, blue, and grey to keep with the neutral palette. Then she bolstered her own wardrobe with cotton blouses and light sweaters, and sandals to let her toes breathe when the summer got steamy.

“Jesus,” Black said on waking to a room strewn with shopping bags.

His tone irked her. “Do you believe in God?”

“Not for years.”

“Then don’t use His Name.”

“Oh, Jesus.”

She had the feeling that she’d regret scolding him. “Are you always this grouchy when you wake up?”

He rubbed absently at his forehead. “Hungry,” he muttered. His hand paused above one eye and Tess felt that eye perusing her profile, its gaze sliding like a scalding tear down her cheek to her throat. Unable to flee, she had to face him.

“I suppose you could kill me and be done with it.”

“I’ve never killed a human in my life.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t care what you believe. Did anyone follow you today?”

“Not that I noticed.” And she had paid strained attention to every moment, seeing spooks in every corner, meeting every gaze and holding it until the other broke first. She had parked the Pathfinder in a mall parkade to keep it from being hotwired and taken the bus as close to this crappy hotel as the transit routes dared. She realized that she was as tired and grouchy as Black. Hungry, too. She had wolfed a Happy Meal at noon, but that had been hours ago. “Is Aurora coming by tonight?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Why do you think?”

Not this again. “I don’t know. Because they’re watching her?”

“You’re smarter since you stopped being blonde.”

“Are you going to see her before we leave?”

“No.”

“Not even to say goodbye?”

Black cursed at the bag he was pawing through and pulled out a package of Jockeys. “What is this?”

“Underwear,” Tess answered, coldly. “Put it on or don’t put it on, I don’t care. You didn’t state a preference.”

“Is this what your boyfriend wore?”

“Don’t talk about my boyfriend.”

Something in her voice shut him down. He tossed the briefs aside and stormed from the room. Tess did some storming of her own while he was out, curling into a ball on the rumpled bed and sobbing until her ribs ached and her sinuses were jammed so tight that she couldn’t inhale.

To be continued …