I went to the bed and laid two fingers against his neck, but there was no time to regret that decision, let alone scream, as Jember’s gloved fingers closed around my throat. My knife was in my hand by the time he’d slammed my back onto the mattress.

“Go ahead, girl,” he said, his dreadlocks falling in my face as he leaned over me. “Make me let go.”

Even though he had my other wrist pinned, I could still slice his arm. There was a good artery there.

But that was exactly why I wouldn’t.

I felt the tight burning of my constricted windpipe. I had seconds to decide what to do before I lost strength. Blacked out. And then he’d win, like he always did, and I’d have a headache and sore throat for the rest of the day.

Without his wooden leg, he only had one leg supporting his weight. I kicked it out from under him, shoving him onto his back. I pressed my knee into his arm, aiming my knife at his face with both hands. He caught both hands with his only free one, pushing up against me.

“Why didn’t you cut my arm?” he grunted. “I gave you the easiest opening.”

“Artery.”

“You’re soft.”

“I’m not soft, I just need you alive.” I shifted my meager weight more on top of the knife and lowered it closer to his face. “Surrender, old man, before I give you one less eye.”

“Your threats have gotten more realistic.” He glanced at the knife. “I surrender.” I let up on my pressure, allowing him to drop his defensive hand, but I kept the knife pointing at his face, in case he changed his mind. “Tell me, how do you check a man’s pulse?”

“By sticking a knife in him,” I said.

“Then why do I have to tell you this again? Never put yourself within grabbing range of someone, especially someone bigger than you.” He waved me away and I got up and put my knife away. “What the hell happened to your hand since I last saw you?”

“Oh—” I looked at my still-wrapped fingers, which were beginning to throb from all that activity, despite the medicine. “I cut myself on … some pottery.”

“Was it pottery or wasn’t it? You sound like you have no idea.” He scraped his fingers through his beard, giving me a skeptical look. “We both know this isn’t a sentimental visit. What are you doing here, girl?”

I folded my arms across my chest and backed up another step to gather up my courage. Just say it, Andi.

Instead, “This place is disgusting” slipped out of my mouth.

“That’s because you’re not here to clean it.”

“You don’t have another mentee by now?”