Like a Knife by Annie Solomon

He pounded halfway down the steps, then slowed again when she didn't stop. "Dammit!" He raced back up, grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her the rest of the way down the stairs with him.
    The man was gone by the time they reached the lobby. Still holding on to her, Nick ran outside. They searched the grounds, but found no sign of him.
    Teeth chattering, though the summer night was warm, she asked, "Who ... who was he?"
    He ushered her into the building, stabbed the elevator button with one sharp, furious finger. "I don't know. A day man, probably." His face was turbulent, his voice hard with repressed rage.
    "D-day man?" She had to stop this shaking.
    "Day man," he practically shouted. "Free agent. Hired hand."
    "Hired by who?"
    "Who do you think?"
    He dragged her back into the apartment, where she wet a washcloth and tried to wipe away the blood dripping from the cut over his eye. He pushed her hand away. "I'm fine."
    "You're bleeding."
    "I'm fine!" Grabbing the cloth, he threw it against the wall over the couch. She picked it up and threw it back at him. It hit him in the face with a smack and fell to the floor.
    "Clean yourself up, then." She stormed down the hallway into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
    Jerk. She plopped down on the bed, trying to subdue the shakes.
    A knock on the door. "Go away."
    He opened the door. In the streetlight that filtered through the window she saw the blood on his face was gone. "Look... I'm sorry." He stood in the doorway, shifting the wet washcloth from one hand to the other. "If I had been able to catch him, talk to him..."
    She glowered at him. "Go ahead, rub it in. If I hadn't hesitated, if I hadn't slowed you down on the stairs..."
    A kind of bleakness seeped into his face. "It's not your fault, Rachel. None of this is your fault." He swallowed and looked down at the washcloth in his hand.
    Her heart twisted. Gently, she said, "It's not your fault either. You didn't send that man tonight You didn't send anyone to hurt me."
    He threw her a sad, bitter smile. "That doesn't change the fact that none of this would have happened if not for me."
    There was truth to his words, but she wouldn't acknowledge it. Not when the larger truth lay at someone else's feet. "If not for Rennie Spier," she said quietly.
    She took the washcloth from him and laid it over the sink in the bathroom. When she came out, he was sitting on the couch, elbows on knees, head in his hands. The pose accented his strong neck and the smooth expanse of his broad shoulders, making him look both powerful and powerless at the same time. She had a sudden urge to put her arms around him, hold him, comfort him.
    But she didn't. She might not blame him for what had happened, but tonight only proved that getting close to him was dangerous.
    "Nick, something still doesn't make sense to me. You said Spier brought you back to find his son. Won't threatening me only drive you away?"
    He took his hands away from his head and stared out at the room. "No, he's pulling the chain, forcing me to heel. Making me do what he wants. Find the kid and forget the rest."
    "What rest?"
    "Proving he's a goddamn murderer."
    A shiver of fear raced through her. Nick didn't notice. Face grim, he scooped up his shirt and jacket and stood. "Let's go."
    A new kind of fear began to percolate. "Go? Go where?"
    "Anywhere. Your family. A hotel. Arizona. Mexico."
    She swallowed. "I told you, I'm not going anywhere."
    "But that was before-"
    She shook her head. "I'm not leaving."
    He stared at her, black brows drawn in a frown. "Are you crazy? You can't stay here. Not now."
    "Fm not leaving."
    "Why the hell not? It's hot as an oven."
    "That's just for tonight."
    His jaw clenched. "What about the door?"
    "I'll get it fixed."
    "This is ridiculous. You can't stay. I won't let you."
    "You won't let me?" She glared at him. "What are you going to do-haul me over your shoulder and drag me out?"
    "Of course not, but-"
    "No one is chasing me out of my own