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The man looked down at the pen I’d stuck in his chest.

“What the fuck?” He barked out a laugh that surprised the ever-loving shit out of me, and now I was wondering if he was mentally unstable.

He raised the gun but didn’t point it at me, more in an I’m harmless even though I’m holding this murder metal way.

“What are you doing in here?” he asked, and then he laughed again.

What was I doing in here? What the hell was he doing in here? I actually worked at this sad joke of a store. I actually belonged here. Well, maybe not in the office, but definitely in this general square footage.

I stared at the gun in his hand, then raised my eyes to his.

I wasn’t too sure at what age self-preservation fled me, but it was a long, long time ago. Maybe I’d never been in possession of it. It certainly wasn’t in me now.

Now, I made a gamble. He wasn’t going to shoot me. If he was here to kill, he would’ve done away with Jay already. Jay was highly killable. An optimum target.

As if he could hear my thoughts, he held both hands up in surrender. The gun was now pointed at the ceiling, his finger off the trigger.

“Okay, hold on, Margot. I’m not gonna hurt you. I’m here to save you.”

How the fuck did he know my name? Well, my fake name. And save me? From what? What in the fuck was going on? Didn’t he just ask what I was doing here? Meaning he didn’t know I’d be in here? Something cold prickled along my neck, worming its way down my back until it hit my knees. Who the hell was this guy?

His low voice slipped past all my anger and uncertainty and went somewhere deeper. It was on a vibrational frequency that I kept feeling more than hearing. It was as unsettling as his words.

I was here first, this loot was mine, and not even an armed intruder who told me he was here to save me—like I’d believe that in any reality—was taking it from me. I reached blindly into the open safe, keeping my eyes trained on him as my hands found a soft cloth bag that felt like it might contain thousands in cash.

Or baseball cards. Maybe parking tickets. It was hard to tell in the low lighting, and I didn’t really have time to check.

He took a step closer to me, which, considering his height, made me feel even smaller. “I said I’m here to save you, so⁠—”

I didn’t want to hear him talk anymore. He was going to just lull me into a highly confused state that I could not afford to be in right now. “I heard what you said so just fuck off, I was here first,” I told him, slipping the bag down the front of my pants. I didn’t have big enough pockets in my current outfit, and it seemed like the best place for now.

He laughed again, the pen in his chest moving up and down.

His laugh was deep and dark and slithered its way down my spine, settling somewhere low in my belly. It was starting to piss me off. What the fuck was so amusing?

I didn’t have time for any of this. I was beyond pissed that this was happening, that he’d fucked everything up. I wasn’t sure this day could get any worse.

I had to get past him, but he was fully blocking the door with those wide shoulders and that enormous body of his. Tall and broad, that’s what he was.

And in my way.

“Move,” I said. I even added a side-swiping motion with my hand, in case he understood things better visually. It wasn’t beyond me that if he wanted to, he could do anything to me. I wasn’t deranged enough to think that I had any kind of chance against him. But hopefully he would just move.

He ignored my demand. His eyes drifted down to my groin—where I’d shoved the money—and he licked his lips. When that vibrant gaze lifted to mine again, my heart pounded manically. His expression was amused and almost…affectionate? This was so fucking weird.

He said, “Of course you would.” I had no idea what he was talking about or what he meant. He laughed again, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Honestly, I should’ve known to plan for something like this. But I can’t let you leave with that.”

I let out a loud, disbelieving chuff, staring at him like he was crazy. I was pretty sure he was. “Yeah, you fucking can and you will,” I growled.

It was the adrenaline that had me talking like this. The adrenaline and that roiling, riotous need to get away.

In my defense, there weren’t really any rules about how to act when your own little heist got commandeered by a mountain of a man who started saying weird shit.

The crinkles near his eyes deepened, making me imagine an enormous grin on his face.

Fuck this.

I darted for the door, trying to squeeze my much smaller self through the sliver of space he’d left between his body and the side of the doorway.