He leaves with a wave, and I turn back to my screen. I lose myself in the work in front of me until my fingertips ache. The office grows darker as night falls. One by one, the overhead lights switch to their energy-saving mode. I’m the only one left, my cubicle a small island of light in an ocean of shadows.
I finally admit defeat around eight, saving my work and shutting down my computer. My bag feels heavier than usual. Or maybe I’m just tired. The kind of tired that sleep won’t fix.
The parking lot is nearly empty when I step outside. The air is cool, almost cold, and I pull my jacket tighter as I head toward my car.
Then, I see him. Kain is leaning against his car, one hand lowering from his ear as if he has just finished a phone call. His eyes find me immediately and start following my movement across the lot.
I force my gaze away, fix it straight ahead on my own car, and quicken my pace. “Just get to the car, hop in, and drive away. Don’t look at him; don’t acknowledge him. Don’t give him the satisfaction,” I whisper to myself.
I reach my car, beep it open, and slide into the driver’s seat. I turn the key in the ignition, but nothing happens.
What the hell?
I turn it again. The engine makes a grinding sound, like it’s trying to catch but failing. I turn the key once more, hard, but it’s the same result. The grinding gets weaker each time, as if the car is giving up.
“Fuck!” The word bursts out of me as I shove the door open and get out. I slam it shut hard enough that the sound echoes across the parking lot.
I open it again to pop the hood because I have to do something, because standing here doing nothing makes me feel even more helpless. I stare at the engine. I don’t know the first thing about cars; I don’t know what I’m looking for or what I’d do if I found it. If I glare at it hard enough, maybe it’ll magically fix itself.
But I can feel his eyes on me from across the lot. Can feel the weight of his stare like a physical touch.
And then, I hear his footsteps. Getting closer.
“Let me take a look.”
Kain’s voice comes from right behind me, near enough that I can feel the heat radiating off him, and every muscle in my body goes rigid.
“I don’t need your help.”
“You’ve been staring at the engine for two full minutes.” His tone is maddeningly calm, rational, almost lecturing. “Doesn’t seem to me like you know what to do. Just let me take a look.”
I want to tell him to go to hell. I’d rather slam this hood down and walk home, if it comes to that. But he’s already moving, stepping into the space I grudgingly vacate. I fold my arms across my chest and watch.
He rolls up his sleeves, revealing forearms corded with muscle and scattered with scars I don’t remember from when we were young. His back flexes as he leans over the engine, hands moving with competent precision. My stupid heart skips a beat, which makes my wolf whimper eagerly.
I tear my eyes away and force them to stare at the dark trees beyond the parking lot.
“Engine’s shot,” Kain says after a minute, straightening. “You’re going to need a mechanic, but this late, you won’t get anyone till tomorrow morning at the earliest.”
I remain silent, still not looking at him.
“I’ll give you a ride home.”
“No.” The word is immediate, automatic. “I’ll call a cab.” I pull out my phone and swipe to the local taxi app.
“Anne…”
I still don’t look at him. I tap the screen, and the app starts to open, but the low battery icon beeps twice in my face before the screen goes black.
“Damn it!” I shake the phone like that’ll somehow bring it back to life, then shove it in my pocket with much more force than needed.
“I will drive you home,” Kain repeats, and there’s an edge to his voice now, impatience breaking through the calm.
My blood pressure spikes. “I’d rather walk.”
“It’s not safe.”
“That’s none of your concern.”
