Not real.
This is adrenaline, and the wedding is a favor.
Nigel stalks up her front walk. “What happened?”
I hate the concern in his voice.
It almost sounds sincere.
Don’t mind that the streetlight flickering on illuminates a couple sparkles of glitter still in his hair though.
Sloane huddles closer to me. “Small break-in. It’s fine.”
“You had a break-in and you think it’sfine? What the hell’s wrong with this town? You’re not safe here. We’re leaving. Now.”
Peggy the cat yowls while I make myself stay still. “She’ll decide for herself what she wants and needs.”
“She needs people who’ve known her forever, not you stupid asshat musicians.”
I would enjoy the shit out of putting a fist through this guy’s face.
Peggy yowls louder.
“Shh,” Sloane whispers. “It’s okay, sweet girl. It’s okay.”
“Now, now, let’s not get name-cally,” Chester says. “Everyone here’s good people.”
“Sloane. It’s time to go somewhere safe,” Nigel says.
I look at the woman I’m pretending to be engaged to. “Sloane, you want to go with him?”
“No, thank you.”
I look back at the fucker.
Don’t say anything.
Just look at him.
He has me by a few inches. Definitely by fifty or so pounds too.
But he’s mistaken if he thinks that means he can force his way through me to get to her.
Don’t mistake muscle for strength.
“Don’t be stubborn, Sloane.” Fucker sounds bored now. “The sooner you accept what’s best?—”
“For who?” I interrupt.
His eyes flicker to me in the dim light. He leans toward Sloane, and I rise and get in his way.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“I’m here to take care of my…friend.”
“Where were you all day today?”
He lifts himself to his full height and glares down at me. “I don’t like your tone.”
