She looked up, eyes widening at my tone.
Before she could move, one of the riders twisted at the waist, arm swinging back, and something dark flew through the air.
A brick.
It hit the large front window with a vicious crack.
Glass exploded inward.
The sound was violent. Sharp. Like the shop itself flinched.
Juliet screamed.
I crossed the space in two strides and grabbed her, pulling her down and away from the front, shielding her with my body as shards of glass tinkled onto the floor.
The bikes roared off, the sound fading fast, leaving behind a ringing silence broken only by Juliet’s breathing.
“Hey,” I said, voice low. “Look at me.”
Her hands clutched at my shirt, fingers shaking. “Oh my God—”
“I’ve got you,” I said firmly. “You’re safe.”
She tried to look past me toward the window.
I tightened my grip. “No. Stay with me.”
Her eyes were wide, shiny, and locked on my face like she was trying to anchor herself to something solid. “They—They threw a brick,” she breathed.
“I know.”
“Why would they—”
“Because they want a reaction,” I said. “Because they’re cowards.”
Her throat worked. She swallowed hard. “My window…”
“I’ll take care of it,” I said. “Right now, you’re safe.”
I guided her farther back toward the prep area. The front of the shop looked like a crime scene with the shattered window, flowers and ribbon dusted with glittering fragments.
Rage flared in my chest, hot and controlled. I forced it down. This wasn’t the time to let it show.
Juliet’s breathing was still uneven.
“Can you sit?” I asked.
She nodded stiffly, letting me ease her onto the edge of a stool by the prep table. Her hands trembled in her lap.
I crouched in front of her. “Any cuts?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“Check your arms.”
She glanced down, brushing her hands over her sleeves. No blood. No obvious injury.
Good.
