Chapter 6
Blaze feltevery one of his thirty-eight years tonight. He slotted his truck into a spot behind the Sutton building and rolled his aching shoulder before setting boots to pavement. His plan tonight was to drink a beer, prop his feet up, and binge watch the Mandalorian. Or maybe Picard.
Hell, he might even soak in the tub.
He was in peak form, but getting hit repeatedly during a long day of classes had a way of taking it out of a guy. Blaze entered the building and hit the stairs. The polished wood was smooth beneath his boots as he trudged up. The Sutton building smelled old. Not bad old, but the kind of old that came with history. It was bigger than it appeared, longer rather than wider, and older than anyplace he’d ever lived before.
Doc Sutton’s offices took up the first floor. There was a front entry with a staircase on one side that went up to the second and third floors. There was a corresponding entry and staircases in the rear of the building. There were two apartments per floor, or there would be when the third floor was renovated. The Suttons could have probably made four smaller apartments on each floor, but they hadn’t, which was how Blaze ended up with nearly two-thousand square feet.
Bigger than he needed, but he liked the location, and the rent was reasonable. The other guys had chosen to live in the two farmhouses on the property, but Blaze liked his own space. Needed his own space when the nights got bad.
He pushed the thought away in case it called up a nightmare. He hadn’t had any in over two weeks now, and he didn’t want one.
The building still had original features like plaster moldings and wood floors that looked hand-scraped but were naturally aged from years of people traipsing across them. It was on a corner, which meant he had windows on two sides. He could see the road leading into the historic district and the rear parking lot with all the quirky buildings that perched around it.
A bail bondsman, a law office, a store that sold incense and hosted séances from time to time. Colleen Wright was a kooky old lady, but harmless enough. She’d stopped him in the Dawg one day and told him not to upset Melvin. When he’d inquired as to who Melvin was, she’d informed him that Melvin was the ghost who lived in the Sutton building.
So far as Blaze knew, Melvin was happy. Blaze had never heard a chain rattling or a spooky voice groaning in the night. He didn’t expect he would, either.
When he reached the top of the stairs, a small shape nearly plowed him over. Emma Sutton squeaked as she skidded to a halt. He steadied her with his hands on her shoulders, not quite missing the way she stiffened. He let her go, and she stepped back to put distance between them.
He hadn’t seen her since the robbery a few days ago. But his palms tingled with that brief contact, his hands itching to touch her again. It annoyed the shit out of him, especially since she looked like she’d rather be anywhere but near him.
Emma’s hair was piled on her head in a messy bun. She wore yoga pants and tennis shoes, but she didn’t look like she was going for a run. She wasn’t wearing earbuds either. Her phone was in her hand, which meant she’d probably been distracted by something on it.
She blinked at him through her glasses. “I’m sorry. I was reading and didn’t see you. It’s totally my fault.”
He didn’t mention that she apparently didn’t hear him either, which was kinda impossible since the staircase creaked in spots. Whatever was on her phone must have been damned interesting.
“It happens. Would’ve been worse if you missed the step and tumbled down the stairs, though. Might want to be more careful.”
She grimaced. “You’re right. It won’t happen again, I promise. I’m sorry for any noise, by the way.” She hitched her finger toward the front apartment. “I’m moving in. Guess we’ll be neighbors.”
Her smile was forced. He didn’t know if it was because of him or because she was awkward around others.
“I just got home. Didn’t hear a thing.”
“Oh. Well. Then I’m sorry for any noise you might hear later. Though I still need to shop for furniture, so I guess there won’t be much noise until then.”
She clamped her mouth shut and frowned. He wondered what that was about.
“I’m gone most days anyway. If you need help moving anything, just ask.”
“Thank you. I think I’m good, but I appreciate it.”
“You doing okay after the other day?”
“I’m fine. I dealt with trauma on a regular basis in the ER. You get used to it. I’m thinking of the robbery as something similar.”
“Not a bad way to go.”
She frowned. “I’m sorry for what I said to you. About bullet wounds. It was uncalled for.”
“I’m already over it, Doc.”
She nodded and gave a jerk of her chin before her gaze dropped to the floor. He sensed she wanted to say something else, so he waited.
“I hear you teach self-defense at your facility.”
“We do. Beginning through advanced.”
Her blue eyes lifted to his. There were storm clouds in those eyes. “I think I might need some training.”