Page 48 of Killer Confections

Have you ever had that overwhelming feeling of being utterly fucked? As the words leave my date’s mouth, and my stalker’s eyes crease with amusement, I realize just how stupid the man beside me is.

“Stop,” the words are weak as they leave me, and I sound so defeated. “Just stop.”

Chance’s head whips around, giving me an incredulous look. “Seriously? This guy is fucking with you, and you want me to stop? What the hell is wrong with you? For fuck’s sake, he looks like a criminal, Loxley.”

What the hell is wrong withme?

He spends our whole two-hour date, treating me like his therapist and he has the audacity to insinuate something is wrong with me because I’m feeling out the situation and know if he keeps going, there’s going to be consequences?

That violent edge from earlier returns as I scowl up atthe man. I have half the mind to tell him off, but the crunch of boots on the road attracts our attention.

My stalker holds up the bat, pointing the rounded end right at Chance’s chest before he grips the handle with both hands and rears back. The metal slams into the driver’s side window, shattering it with a high-pitched crash.

I suck in a breath, watching as the shards dance on the blacktop, the shine from the dim shop’s lights flashing on them like rain.

“MY FUCKING CAR!” Chance yells, running his hands through his buzzed hair. “STOP!”

My stalker ignores him, moving to the next window and lifting the bat again. The muscles in his wide back flex and I force myself to stop ogling him.

He’s destroying my date’s car! I shouldn’t be focused on how dangerous he looks as he delivers each blow to the vehicle. Powerful arms wield the bat as if it’s light as a feather, slamming the alloy end into each window with a sharp shattering sound.

Chance is having a meltdown beside me, sinking into a crouch as he blubbers over his losses. The bravery he showed earlier is long gone, replaced by the cries of a desperate man pleading for it all to stop.

I kind of feel bad for him. I didn’t enjoy our ‘date,’ but that doesn’t mean he deserves to have his car totaled by a psychopath. And I say totaled because my stalker is getting creative. He pried the hood open before removing the transmission and also smashing that to pieces.

Chance stands abruptly, shooting me a glower as he closes the distance between us. “This is insane! You and your friend are fucking crazy!”

“Me?” I rear back. “Why am I insane? I didn’t smash your car!”

He motions to my stalker with a hand, “If this is who you keep as close company, count me the fuck out!”

Okay, now he’s pissing me off. Granted, I did lie and saythe man on the other side of the street was a friend, but that doesn’t seem to quell the rage burning in me. I square my shoulders, but before I can give this asshole a piece of my mind, my stalker lumbers across the road, the bat pointed in Chance’s direction as a menacing aura surrounds him.

My date backs away from me, his hands up. “Look, man, I don’t want any trouble—”

My stalker blocks me with his body, shielding me from Chance’s view as his hand tightens on the bat’s handle. My anxiety jumps and I know if I don’t do something, he’s going to swing on the poor guy who’s just trying to make a clean getaway.

I step around him, throwing myself in front of the mountainous, intimidating man. I put a desperate hand on his chest, looking up into piercing eyes. I see the motion of his nostrils flaring under the mask.

“Stop, please,” I beg low, my voice a whisper in the dark. “Let him leave and I’ll do whatever you want.”

His eyes narrow on me before his free hand lifts and strong, warm fingers brush my cheek. My face feels hot where he touches, leaving tendrils of electricity in their wake before his hand dips and he grips my throat tightly.

I gasp, my mouth falling open as clothed lips brush my temple. Smoke invades my senses as he looms over me.

“It’s cute you think I wasn’t already planning to throw your ass over my shoulder and punish you for this,” he growls before he kisses the shell of my ear and a shiver shoots down my spine.

Familiar.

He sounds far too familiar.

Like a distant memory I’ve tried so hard to forget. Comfort washes over me as I stare blankly at his chest.

There’s no way…

He looks at Chance, straightening. “My girl. Fuck off.”

“Whatever,” my date mumbles, turning on his heel. “This is fucking insane.”