“The funny thing is, the more we don’t give a fuck what others say, the more others want us to care, the more others want us to pay attention to them. So, no, we haven’t thought of a name, but it’ll suit us.”
“I see,” I said.
Others want us to pay attention to them. Like how I’m here…
And Elizabeth…
“Well, I should get going before Elizabeth yells at me again,” I said. “But it was great to see you, Brock.”
“Likewise, Tara.”
I remembered the last time we had said goodbye.
“Not going to say you will never see me again this time, huh?”
Brock leaned forward, snorted, and looked intensely at me. Like, far more intensely than I ever would have guessed given how the previous few minutes had gone.
But, as if changing his mind at the last second, he leaned back, smiled, and shrugged.
“If you’re working here, I guess I can’t say that.”
I bit my lip. We were dancing around something so obvious, so apparent to anyone watching, that it was foolish to do this. This wasn’t two years ago, when Steele and I were in the midst of our relationship. This was now, when I’d been single for months and had no regrets about doing so.
“Brock…”
“HELP!”
Brock
When I heard Elizabeth screaming outside, I didn’t think.
I didn’t tell Tara to do anything.
I just leaped over the store counter, knocking over a candy display that I could easily fix after I helped Elizabeth. I slammed into the glass door with my shoulder, busting it open—likely causing some damage to the handle—and saw Elizabeth trying to fight off someone with a blood-red mask over their nose and jaw.
A fucking Bandit.
“The fuck you think you’re doing?!?” I roared.
The Bandit let Elizabeth go, stared at me in surprise, and tried to move his hand to his hip. I had never stopped running, but if he had a gun, I only had seconds…
His hand grabbed air. He looked down, panicked at his miss. I had my chance.
I tackled the Bandit into Tara’s car, reared back, and delivered a hard punch to his skull.
“Don’t you ever fucking come in here again!” I roared.
The Bandit narrowed his eyes at me as he looked back up, but I delivered a second punch to him and knocked him to the ground. I kicked him for good measure, cursing in frustration.
I turned to Elizabeth, who had her hands tight against her body, clutching herself. The poor girl looked absolutely terrified; not only had she probably not been to this part of town before, she’d probably never even had an unwanted touch, let alone been full-on mugged.
“Are you OK?”
She looked at me, but every time she opened her mouth, she looked like she was about to cry. I didn’t have any experience in this; I didn’t have the skills to handle someone discovering the world had its dark moments.
“You’re safe,” I said. “Tara! I need—”
“Brock!”
