What was that?
I’m so caught up in chastising myself, I nearly miss it, but several hundred feet ahead, the hulking shape of a guy ducks into a doorway. Maybe it wasn’t one of the goons from yesterday, but maybe it was. Maybe he went into the store, or maybe he’s waiting for Penny to walk in front of him so he can demand the ring back.
It’s a lot ofmaybes, and I’m likely overreacting, but I can’t take that chance. Not with Penny, and not with her safety.
“You’re going the wrong way. You know that, right?” My voice is intentionally cold, the tone I use to snip and snipe at her, riling her up and pissing her off. I hate it. Every time I do it, it kills a tiny part of me, but I do it anyway, again and again, because it’s the only way I’ve found to keep the necessary buffer between us. Anything else I could try would likely hurt her more in the long run, and I can take losing bits of my soul if it’s for her.
Penny stops almost instantly, and I can see her erecting her defenses before facing me, her posture straightening, her head lifting, and her intake of breath sharp.
Even so, when she does turn, she looks ... defeated. Her amber eyes, usually so full of life and happiness, are hollow and sad. Her lips, always so quick with a friendly smile, are turned down into a pout that, while adorable, breaks my heart. “It’s gone.”
Her fire is extinguished. Like someone doused water on her spirit. No, like I drowned it. But there are still embers in her soul, and I can ignite them. It just takes ...
“That’s it? You’re giving up that easily? Two stores, and you throw in the towel like this is a participation-ribbon peewee league where everyone gets fruit snacks and a high five after the game?” I huff out a dry laugh. “I thought you were made of sturdier stuff than that. Didn’t realize you were such a weak bitch that one little setback would send you crying to your room, curled up and woe-is-me’ing about how the big, bad world was mean to you.” I round my shoulders, miming like I’m sucking my thumb and pouting out my bottom lip. It’s a fair estimation for how she looks right now, minus the thumb-sucking.
It hurts to do, but it works. Every word has fanned her flames. I can damn near see them getting brighter, growing bigger behind her eyes. And all the while, my soul goes darker and uglier.
“Excuuuse me?” she snaps. “You did not just say that. Take it back.” She steps right up to me, her chin lifted defiantly and her eyes full of fury.
There she is. There’s my Penny.
I mean, notmyPenny. But her Penny. Herself. That’s what I meant.
I lean down, getting so close that I smell the coffee on her breath and the vanilla body wash she uses. “No.”
She makes a sound of offense that I take secret delight in and then plants her hands on my chest, giving me a hard shove, and nearly falling in the process. How does this woman, who is all elegant grace on the ice and ass-shaking on the cheerleaders’ stage, manage to nearly fallwhen pushing against an immoveable mass? No idea, but she does it. Seemingly easily.
“God, you’re such an asshole. No, worse! You’re like a hemorrhoid on an asshole.”
Her tiny growl is the cutest thing I’ve ever heard. And reassures me that she’s still fighting ... for the ring, for herself, for more than she realizes.
“Yep,” I readily agree. “Doesn’t mean I’m not right about you, ya big crybaby.” This time, it’s teasing. It’s the cutting remarks we always engage in as I work us back to the safety of treating her like an annoying brat the way Dom does. It’s the only safe space for us. “Ready for the next store now?”
I half expect her to continue stomping away in the same direction she was going, which I’ll have to stop because, though I’ve been teasing Penny, I’ve also noticed that the hulking guy hasn’t reappeared down the block and could still be lurking in wait for her. Thankfully, she seems to have heard my initial question about going the wrong way and walks back past me in the opposite direction.
“Coming?” she throws over her shoulder.
I glance down the street once more, questioning if I overreacted in the first place. Still not seeing anything, I rush to follow Penny. Her ass, covered in denim that hugs her curves just right, is swinging side to side, taunting me with every step.
“I wish,” I mutter under my breath.
Chapter 10
Penny
It’s the same story at the next two pawnshops. We go in, ask if they have the ring, show them the picture, and they say no. My ridiculously optimistic, high hopes of recovering the stolen jewelry are falling further and faster with every minute.
And though I did have that one moment of weakness earlier, I’ve done my best to stay positive, promising myself the next store would be the one and cheering myself up after every no and invitation to get the fuck out. On the upside, I’m solidly maintaining my streak of being wrong, and so far, I’m zero for four—striking out at Paul’s, A-to-Z, Cash-a-rama, and a no-name place that really set Griffin off.
He’s usually grumpy and snappish, but he was downright hostile to the clerk at that last store. Okay, so yeah, the guy was flirting with me, but I can handle myself.
Usually.
Except right now, I really don’t want to deal with guys who try to “c’mon, baby” me into giving them my Instagram handle so they can “slide into my DMs and maybe me” later.Blech.Which is what I literally said out loud to the guy. That apparently hurt hiswittle feelwings, and he had to let me know that I wasn’t “that cute” anyway. As if. I’m fucking adorable and I know it. I’d been ready to hair flip outthe door and head to the next stop, but Griffin had already nearly taken the guy’s head off, calling him a Fleshlight fuckboy.
Yeah, it was kinda funny, leaving both me and the clerk slack-jawed in shock, but peeling Griffin off other guys is getting to be exhausting. On the ice is one thing, but in day-to-day life? I mean, has he heard of therapy? It’d probably do him some good to work on communication that doesn’t involve threats of violence when things don’t go his way.
It was kinda hot, though.
