Page 5

I watched as he slowly made his way upstairs, his bedroom door closing behind him, his gait slower than ever.

Making my way to the front of the shop to close up, a strange feeling needled at my mind. For whatever reason, I couldn't shake the feeling of dread that I’d never see him again.

Itwisted the deadbolt and flipped the CLOSED sign over as the last customer left for the day. The rain had finally subsided, and the sun began to set behind the cloudy haze.

After cleaning my workstation, I tallied the register while absently listening to a true crime podcast in my earbuds. Garbage in hand, I opened the back door that went into the alleyway behind the shop, wincing as the cold air slapped me in the face. Its frigid bite was harsher tonight than others.

The podcast began explaining how the missing woman was bound, weighted by rocks, and thrown into the Hudson River, and I cringed at the detail that only half her body was found.

“No, thank you,” I muttered, turning it off and slipping my earbuds into my bag. Making my way out into the alleyway, I locked the door behind me.

The alleyway was pretty narrow, barely wide enough to fit the dumpster, not to mention it perpetually smelled of rotten fish due to the fish-cleaning station and drain. After all the years of doing this, I was mostly numb to the smell, but it still made me grimace. Grabbing the hose, I sprayed down the concrete, watching as the remnants of chum and scales spiraled down the drain.

I turned around searching for the sound of footsteps that crept up behind me. A large shadow stretched across the narrow corridor, blocking out the light. I squinted into the darkness, searching for the source. The only light was from a single light bulb that lit the narrow pathway.

“Damn, working late, babe?” a grating and familiar voice called out from the far end of the alleyway.

My stomach dropped as I spun around, the hose still running in my hand. Preston Willows stood at the alley’s exit, his gaze fixed on me. He stumbled toward me, his body shrouded by darkness, but I’d recognize his massive silhouette anywhere.

Drunk, again. I thought. Had he even stopped drinking since this morning?

“We’re closed, Preston,” I said dryly, quickly tossing the hose and throwing the trash in the dumpster as I made my way towards the exit. All I wanted was to drop off the money at the bank and crawl into bed. But of course, this idiot was here to fuck it up.

Preston met me in the middle and held his hand up for me to stop. The walls of the alley were tight and suffocating between us. “What do you want, Preston?”

“Well, I’m not here for fish,” he sneered, leaning in far too close for comfort. “Come on, it’s cold out—wanna go warm up with a drink? It’s on me.”

“Pass. I’ve got things to do, Preston. My Dad’s waiting for me. I need to go,” I said, trying to shoulder my way past him.

Preston stepped in front of me, planting himself squarely in the path as I glared back at him.

Bastard.

“Your Dad not worried about his little girl being out this late all by herself?” His words snaked around my throat like a noose, and my jaw tightened as he leaned closer.

My gaze narrowed, sending daggers at him, as I tried to steady myself. I’d learned a long time ago not to show fear with any man, but especially with assholes like him—otherwise it was like a shark smelling blood in the water.

I kept my voice calm. “My Dad isn’t worried about me, because he knows that I can take care of myself.” I pressed in on him, staring directly into his eyes. “You're drunk and in my way. Now move.” I shouldered my way past him.

Preston growled, “Wait, Evie.” Waves of pain shot through my arm as he grabbed me, pulling me toward him. Blood hammered in my ears as I screamed, “Preston, let go, now!”

“No! You need to listen,” he growled, his grip tightening. He wrenched my body toward him, slamming me against the brick wall. His breath was hot in my face, and the smell of alcohol burned my nostrils. “I’ve been fucking patient, Evie. Do you know many girls would kill to be with me?”

I ripped my arm from his grasp, my eyes boring into him. “I’ve told you a million fucking times, Preston. I don't feel that way about you, and my name is Evelyn to you.”

He scoffed. “Oh, you don't feel that way?” He threw his arms up, gesturing around him. “Your feelings don’t fucking matter here, Evie. I could buy this whole goddamn dock if I wanted to. And then what would you do?” He leaned in, his voice just above a whisper. “You know, the only reason we haven't bulldozed this piece of shit yet is because of me, right?” His smirk was serpentine as he lowered his dark eyes at me. “Bet you didn't even know that, did you?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” My face wrestled between confusion and anger.

“We bought co-ownership of the fucking building, Evie! Hello!” he screamed. “Your Dad couldn't afford shit, so we saved your sorry asses for the last six months. One phone call and we'll stop letting your overdue rent slide.” His lips ghosted my ear as he pressed me against the wall, and my skin crawled. “I’ve been protecting you, because I care about you…told them to hold off.” He caressed my cheek. “Said I had a…vested interest,” he said with a calculated smile.

My stomach knotted, bile crawling up my throat. “You’re lying…”

Preston’s laugh boomed in the narrow corridor. “Am I? One word and you’d both be tossed out on the streets, Evie.” He put his other arm on the wall, wedging me in between the two. “You should be thanking me.”

I was caged in. Cornered prey.

“You owe me this,” he said, his voice low and certain.