Because his fierce scowl did nothing to shroud his beauty.
And like the danger radiating from him, it was unbridled.
He was cloaked in a distressed brown leather jacket, matching worn gloves, and brown boots. The wind ruffled his dark brown hair as he carefully took in his surroundings, and I was glad he’d chosen not to wear a hat because hair that shiny, thick, and perfect was meant to be admired no matter the weather.
It wasn’t so bizarre that I was attracted to someone who looked this damn appetizing, but I did find the voice in my head wondering if he were here for me and the answering clench of my gut unsettling. I could swear I heard the chime of a clock striking a new hour, telling me it was time. Or maybe it was more like the clang of a bell beckoning me. My feet even took a couple of steps toward him before I caught myself. It didn’t help, though, because I felt my entire being reaching out for him. It was a magnetic feeling that only grew stronger as he slammed his car door shut and crossed the street with a purpose.
His eyes found mine, and I could have sworn his step faltered. Maybe he was just surprised to find someone else crazy enough to brave the storm. It took me a while to realize I hadn’t moved, either. I was completely frozen. Not even a shiver shook my body despite the steadily falling temperature. Perhaps I believed remaining perfectly still would keep him from spotting me, but like a true predator, he had already locked onto his prey. His gaze never strayed as he stepped onto the sidewalk and his booted feet drew him closer.
“You got business here?” he said once he stood in front of me. His gray, maybe blue—I couldn’t decide—gaze was colder than the wind and snow blowing around us as he passively assessed me.
“What’s it to you?” Despite my instant infatuation, I couldn’t keep my true colors from showing even if I tried.
He continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “If it isn’t worth your life, I suggest you disappear, kid.”
“Kid?” I yelped as he moved around me. “Well, isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black. I can still see your mom’s nipple print on your upper lip!” I was thankful his back was to me so he couldn’t see me wince. I didn’t mean to be so crude or even angry, but I had the feeling that as of two minutes ago, I no longer had control of my emotions. I felt connected to him on a level I could never hope to reach and, therefore sever, and I didn’t like it one fucking bit.
The hand reaching for the barbershop door fell by his side and balled into a fist. If it didn’t already feel like the North Pole, the icy chill radiating from him certainly would’ve done the job. I knew I’d said something terribly wrong before he even spoke.
“Let me revise,” he said in a deeper, deadlier tone. “If you want this wasted existence of yours to continue beyond the next three seconds, leave. Now.”
He didn’t wait to see if I obeyed. Ripping open the door, he stomped inside and let the door reading Bear Cuts slam behind him.
I frowned at the realization that I could have stowed away inside all of this time. The lights were out, so I assumed, like everyone else, that the owner had gone home before it became too dangerous.
My stomach churned as I left my dying fire behind, but it wasn’t for the loss of its meager warmth. I couldn’t stop replaying the encounter or the words wasted existence in my mind. Never mind that he’d threatened me.
Apparently, I mused as my lip curled, I cared more about what he thinks of me.
Curiosity to know more about him kept me from going far. Across the street, in fact, where I huddled under a street lamp. Ten minutes later, when the chill in my bones became too painful to ignore, the door opened, and he emerged with something bright orange clutched in his fist.
And when he stepped off the sidewalk and headed straight for me, I was suddenly cold for a different reason entirely.
It was too late to run. He’d already seen me and could probably catch me even if I did, so I stood rooted to the spot under the dim yellow glow of the lamp like a red flag for a raging bull.
The only things that kept me from screaming were the stoic expression he wore and the fact that no one would hear me and probably wouldn’t intervene even if they did. Besides, I wasn’t a damn damsel, and if he forced me to try to kick his ass, then so be it.
What happened next I couldn’t explain, but it would haunt my dreams for a long, long time. He stood in front of me, closer than he’d been before, and I took the time to study the odd hue of his eyes. It shouldn’t have fascinated me so much.
The arm carrying what I realized was a coat—a super fugly one—extended, but before he could utter a word, my attention was stolen by a silver Acura rounding the corner on two wheels—snow and ice be damned. The passenger window rolled down, and a gloved hand pointed a semi-automatic with perfect aim.
I didn’t stop to consider the fact that he’d threatened my own life before saving his. I screamed, “Watch out!” before dragging him behind a green Expedition sitting on oversized tires as bullets rained down on the spot he’d just been standing. I landed on top of him, still clutching his leather jacket for dear life. Our eyes connected the moment the shooting stopped. Rage began to effervesce, drowning the initial shock and turning the irises surrounding his pupils a startling blue. I was distantly aware of tires squealing and a roaring engine, but I couldn’t be sure. I was only mindful of how close our bodies were and the hungry hum begging me to get closer. I got my wish seconds later when he grabbed me and rolled us underneath the SUV just as bullets sprayed the car, setting off the alarm and ripping a scream from my throat. With my eyes shut tightly and my face buried in his chest, I gripped his jacket as if my life depended on it. Evidently, it did.
I could hear the shooters’ tires squealing as they raced away. I didn’t dare exhale until long after the sound of the racing engine faded. My breaths came fast and hard, matching in tempo with the heavy rise and fall of the dude’s chest.
For a while, the only other sound was the car alarm blaring above us, but once I caught my breath, I couldn’t keep silent.
“That was—”
“God fucking dammit!” he roared.
“Not what I was going to say.”
He gave me a withering look before swiftly rolling from beneath the SUV and out onto the street. I was less eager to depart. What if they came back to finish the job?
“Come out,” he ordered a little impatiently. “They’re not coming back, and we need to leave.”
“No, I’m good. Thanks.”
I heard him sigh before he dropped to the ground and peered under the car at me. “And when the cops come?”
Well, fuck. That got me moving.
Despite almost dying, I didn’t care to be hauled back to my foster home or worse…a group home. And I sure as shit wasn’t eager to be questioned by the cops. I’d rather have a rectal exam.
I inched toward him, and surprisingly, he held out his hand to assist me. When I was on my feet, I avoided his gaze and studied the car that now looked like molded Swiss cheese.
“That could have been you.”
“And you,” he pointed out.
I breathed in the cold night air, which then shuddered out of me when I realized he was right. I doubt they cared if I was a casualty of whatever vendetta brought them here.