All three of their heads snap up. They walk to my bike with their heads held high. I kill my engine and take off my helmet. My eyes land on her, and she misses a step. That causes the other two to trip, and the three of them fall.
For the first time in years, I laugh. The three of them are like a clumsy trio while they try to stand up.
“What the fuck is your problem?” the brave one asks once they get upright again. “Do you get a thrill out of scaring women?”
“Blackwomen,” the preacher’s daughter says. I look away from the pretty one and arch an eyebrow at the one who just spoke. She runs and hides behind the brave one.
“What do you want?” the one who has been fucking with my life asks. “Why are you bothering us?” Her voice shakes, but she juts out her chin, a fake show of bravery.
“You’re the one disturbingme,” I say as I stare into the depths of her soul.
“Really?” She sounds aghast. “Because the last time I checked, we weren’t following you and we—”
She stops talking when I swing my legs off my bike. I put my helmet on my seat and stroll to them. They run to the car, but I slam my hand on the back door before she can run and hide inside. As expected, the other two stay.
Bending down, I glare at her. She leans back but doesn’t take a step.
“I want you to stay out of my club.” I point a finger at her face to make myself clear.
She hits my hand to knock it away, but I don’t move. I get in her space and hope she’ll hit me again so that I can feel her touch. I want to say that I want her to stay out of my head, but I keep that little detail to myself.
“Fine,” she says. “We will never go in there again. Can you leave us alone now?” With shaky hands, she pulls her phone out of her pocket. “Or I’ll call the police,” she threatens.
I throw my head back and laugh. She really does think her sheriff daddy has pull in this town. What she doesn’t know is that Shadow Cove no longer belongs to the people. It belongs to Dax Hunt.
“Call them,” I challenge her.
She freezes, and her phone slips out of her hand. It lands face down, and I hear it crack. When she picks it up, I note that the screen is ruined. Tears pool in her eyes.
“Are you happy now?” she chokes out. “Another fucking thing I can’t afford. Look at what you did!” She waves the broken phone in the air.
“It’s not my fault you’re clumsy.”
She shoves it into her pocket and angrily wipes her tears. I don’t remember the last time I saw a woman cry, and the few times I saw it, I didn’t give a fuck.
You still don’t, I quickly remind myself.
“Go to hell, you fucking bully. Men like you are all the same. You blame us for the shit your kind does.” She yanks the door open and gets in, but not before I hear her mumble, “Fucking goon,” under her breath. The other two look me up and down before they do the same thing.
Once the SUV drives away, I follow it.
My original plan was to have someone take them home while I handled the group of guys, but I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to scare them. I wanted to scareher. From the moment I saw her up close, I was angry. Angry for thinking she’s beautiful and angry at myself for wanting to protect her.
The first person to be dropped off is the preacher’s daughter. She lives in a new apartment complex, and I follow the car until it stops. Selene hops out, looks my way, and runs inside.
Next is Eden Rose. She still lives at home like a good girl would. After slowly exiting the back seat, she cranes her neck to the back of the car. I roar my engine, and she jumps in shock. She runs inside, but not before she turns around and waves both middle fingers in the air.
I should go in there and squash her bout of bravery, but I’d rather play with her head. I’ll leave her alone for a few days and let her think she’s rid of me.
I back out of the driveway and go in the opposite direction from the driver. I’m not interested in her, and I know the one I’m interested in will likely remain locked inside her apartment. Not only that, but I don’t want the sheriff to see me around his property and potentially shoot me.
Chapter 6
Eden
I slowly open my front door and look down. Like clockwork, there’s a red rose on my doorstep, but this time, there’s something else. There’s a package.
For the past four days, there’s been a rose at my doorstep every morning, and despite not seeing him since he tortured us for the second time on Sunday, I know the flowers are from him. What I don’t know is why he’s doing this.
