The grind of a power tool woke Evie from the deep sleep she’d finally fallen into the night before. She glared at the ceiling for a moment in futile frustration. Why her neighbour—generally very quiet—would choose this time of the morning to do repairs, she’d never know.

Speaking of morning…she glanced at her clock and her heart skipped a beat when she saw it was already after eight. She threw back the covers and stumbled into a standing position. The blood rushed to the bruise on her cheek, making her wince. She should have iced it for longer last night, but she’d been impatient. She hadn’t wanted the reminder that Jimmy had found her, that her worst fears had come true.

She’d finally managed to get out of the relationship seven months before. It had taken a lot of careful planning, including getting this crappy apartment in an anonymous neighbourhood because she could pay cash and they weren’t too bothered about correct details on the application.

She didn’t know how Jimmy had discovered her, but it hardly mattered. He’d found her, and he’d lost his mind, just as she’d known he would.

Thankfully, her huge, hulking neighbour had appeared before Jimmy had done too much damage. The knowledge she’d been protected, for once, by a man sent a thrill of gratitude through her directed at her mysterious neighbour. He’d only spoken that one word to her, but his gravelly voice had had a surprising effect on her, which she attributed to the lingering adrenaline from the fight and violence and her thankfulness at a hero appearing when he had.

Not that she couldn’t take care of herself, at least under normal circumstances. But Jimmy had conditioned her to be timid, fearful, and placating and it was a tough habit to break. She’d only just started to build her confidence again, piece by painful piece, when he’d shattered it all by showing up on her doorstep last night, drunk and looking for a fight.

She should thank her neighbour for stepping in when he did, even though he’d destroyed her door in the process. It was clear he was a man even more familiar with violence than Jimmy was, but she had to hope he used it differently. The idea that she lived in close proximity to another potentially violent man sent chills down her spine. All she knew about him was that he was familiar with violence as a tool and capable of using it at a drop of a hat, plus his size meant he could do serious damage without even trying, and that was more than enough information for her to be wary. To be safe, she knew she had to stay far away from him.

She exited the bedroom, only to come face to face with a stranger in her doorway. The sideboard she’d pushed in front of the door last night had been shoved aside and her front door swung askew on broken hinges.

Evie’s heart pounded and fear gripped her throat. She backed away, her mind desperately trying to think of the sensible thing to do. Call the cops? Where was her phone? Still charging on her bedside table.

As she took another careful step backward, Evie studied the man. He was of medium height, middle-aged, with a bushy moustache. He wore tan overalls, and she could just make out a logo on the left of his chest.

She paused for a moment and made a sound of surprise. Not an attacker?

He glanced up and smiled. “Ah, you must be the lady of the house. Don’t worry, I’ll have this done in a jiffy.”

Evie cleared her throat. “Have what done, exactly?”

He frowned in confusion. “Your door, of course. Your boyfriend here called me out on a rush job this morning, before I started my official day.”

“Boyf—”

Her neighbour loomed in the doorway behind the tradesman, who had apparently decided her answer was sufficient enough for him to continue his work. Evie narrowed her eyes at her rescuer from last night, any warm feelings that had remained towards him dissipating as she realised what he’d done.

Heedless of the fact that she was still in her pajamas, which consisted of a tank top and loose short-shorts, Evie stepped towards the two men. Her annoyance must have shown on her face, because her neighbour took a hesitant step back and looked sideways, as if searching for an escape route. Evie grinned in a savage kind of satisfaction that she could make a big, powerful man like this even a little nervous.

She slid around the back of the tradesman, who wisely ignored her as he worked, and planted herself in the hall a few feet away from him. Her neighbour reluctantly slunk over. He stopped well outside her personal boundary, and not within reach. Evie noticed the consideration, and wondered whether he did it on purpose, or if it was just coincidence.

She decided on coincidence.

“He needs to leave,” she told him. “Now.”

Her neighbour’s gaze shuttled down over her, once, then stared somewhere over her right shoulder. She crossed her arms over her chest to give herself some meagre protection in her flimsy pajamas.

“The door needs fixing,” he replied matter-of-factly. He had a thick accent that sounded Russian to her inexpert ears. He hesitated a moment before speaking, as if searching for the correct word, telling her he wasn’t particularly familiar with speaking in English.

As an allowance, Evie slowed down her speech, without being condescending about it. “It does need fixing. I would like to arrange that myself, rather than having strange men show up in my house uninvited.”

He frowned. “I need to pay. I broke it.”

Evie sighed. Honestly, she was grateful he’d offered, since she could hardly afford a repairman, and she doubted the landlord would be quick at replacing the door, if he did at all. But her neighbour was still missing the point. “Fine. But I don’t know I can trust this man.”

The repairman was currently changing the lock on the door. She’d heard some horror stories of lock repair guys who kept spare keys for themselves, and not for any altruistic reasons.

“He is good man. Trustworthy. My friend gave me recommendation.”

Evie sighed again. She looked over at the repairman, who gave her a cheerful smile before returning to work. Her years with Jimmy had made her a contradictory mess. On the one hand, she’d gotten very good at reading people. She’d had to watch Jimmy carefully for signs of anger and belligerence that meant he was working himself into a violent rage. Occasionally, she could soothe whatever imagined wound he had before he got out of control, saving herself some pain. But on the other hand, she no longer trusted those instincts, the same ones that had kept her alive through the years of violence and gaslighting. If she could have been so deceived by Jimmy, then who’s to say any person she trusted wouldn’t end up being just like the man who almost broke her?

But at the same time, she couldn’t live her life like that. Not forever. It would take some time for her to trust anyone again, but if she started in this small way it would be a step in the right direction.

She studied Alexei’s face, searching for signs he was anything like Jimmy. She didn’t know what she expected. ‘I’M AN ABUSIVE LIAR’ tattooed to his forehead, perhaps? But there was nothing, only the way his eyes darted from her bruise, to the wall over her head and back again, all with a slight scowl.

He wasn’t a handsome man. Dark brows sliced over piercing pale eyes. His crooked nose had obviously been broken many times, and never set properly. It was a brutish face, but there was something compelling about it, too. Not the story of violence that the shadow of a bruise near his temple told, nor the harsh planes of his face, but the contradiction of his almost beastly appearance with the careful way he didn’t look at her, and the controlled way he moved.

She eyed the deliberate space between them, noticing the way he seemed to shrink when her eyes fell on him as if he was trying to make himself less intimidating. An impossible feat, but one she appreciated nonetheless.

Something told her he was an okay guy. A little too used to violence for her to have in her life, but he seemed to mean well.

“Okay, fine. I don’t have time to argue this right now. I’m late for class. But if he does anything at all, I’m calling the cops on you both, alright?”

Her neighbour’s eyes widened, then he nodded once, apparently done with his words for the day.

Evie hesitated for a long moment, then decisively stepped forward with her hand outstretched to shake.

“I’m Evie,” she said.

Her neighbour straightened, his shadow falling over her, cast from the weak hallway bulb.

“Alexei,” he muttered, and gently closed his huge hand over her own, then dropped it as soon as he could.

“Well, it was nice to officially meet you, Alexei,” she told him with a small smile.

He nodded, and she took that to mean ‘likewise’. She pointed to the hallway beyond him with an apologetic smile, and he pushed himself against the unstable bannister that was all that stood between them and a two-flight drop down the staircase.

She squeezed past him, careful not to touch him. She was almost at her door when his voice stopped her.

“Are you…okay?” he asked, voice low and rough.

She half-turned towards him, glancing over her shoulder. “Yeah,” she said. “I will be.”

He nodded at that, as if accepting her words. But there was a shadow of worry in his eyes. Something passed between them, the shared knowledge of what had occurred the night before, the fact he knew something so deeply personal about her life. A level of intimacy not generally experienced between strangers such as themselves.

Evie swallowed, suddenly awkward, and turned away. She felt too exposed when he looked at her like that, almost embarrassed. It was stupid, of course, to feel that way, but feelings were rarely logical.

Evie turned away from his piercing stare and hurried back into her apartment, glad she’d never have to see her hulking neighbour again any time soon.