It’s not until he pulls the shirt away that I see the stain of blood.
I blink, and he cocks his head, and I follow his gaze, turning to look at my stalker scrambling across the alley floor, trying to escape.
For a moment, I think he’s going to go after him, except he doesn’t. He shrugs and turns back to me.
I lick my lips, and his eyes track the motion. Then he steps back and asks, ‘You okay?’
It takes me a moment to realize he’s signing with a fluency that isn’t Deaf, but he also isn’t an early learner either.
I take a breath and nod, even though that’s a complete lie.
I lift my hands to say something, but I get lost in his eyes. They’re so…dark. Everything about him should be terrifying, the breadth of his shoulders, the scar on his face, but it’s not.
Who is this guy?
‘Name-you?’
He smiles but doesn’t answer. I go to repeat myself, but he takes another step back, heaves a breath, then turns on his heel and walks off.
I’m in too much shock to follow, but the ghost of him lingers. I need to know who he is and why he protected me.
And why the sight of blood splattered all over my face didn’t make him flinch.
