I grabbed the pricing gun and attacked the new arrivals with mechanical precision.
Click. Stack. Click. Stack.
The repetition helped.
Sort of.
My thighs still ached. My lips still felt swollen. My heart still pounded too fast. But I kept moving. Kept working. Kept pretending I could outrun what I'd just become.
The bell above the door didn't ring.
The bookstore stayed silent except for my ragged breathing.
And somewhere in the back of my mind—the part I refused to acknowledge—I realized I was waiting. For him to come back. For his hand on my waist. For that low voice telling me to stop running from what we both knew was true.
I hated myself for it.
The bell above the door jingled.
My head snapped up.
Two men.
The same ones.
Leather jackets hung heavy on their frames. Cold eyes swept the empty bookstore with predatory ease—the confidence of men who'd already chosen their prey.
The taller one grinned. "Afternoon, sweetheart."
My stomach dropped somewhere near my feet. "The store is closed. You need to leave."
They didn't.
The shorter one snickered—a sound that made my skin crawl. "We don't want books. We want what your daddy owes."
I gripped the counter so hard my knuckles turned white, wood grain biting into my palms. "I told you—he's sick. I don't know anything about any debt."
The taller man leaned casually against the counter. Too close. Too comfortable. "We know you're living with Gideon Jones now."
I froze. Heat flooded my chest—fear, anger, humiliation twisting together until I couldn't separate one from the other.
"That's none of your business."
They laughed. Low and knowing. Like they'd already won something I didn't understand yet.
"Everything about you is our business until your daddy pays up."
My breath stuttered. Caught somewhere between my lungs and throat. "Gideon has nothing to do with this."
"Does he know you're so stubborn?" The taller one tilted his head, studying me like I was something mildly interesting. "Or that you're stupid enough to lie for your old man?"
I flinched despite myself.
He tapped the counter with one finger. Slow. Deliberate. "Here's what's gonna happen. You're gonna tell Gideon to settle your father's debt. Or we'll settle it another way."
My voice cracked when I spoke. "Leave."
The word came out smaller than I intended. Weaker.
