Dirty English

Fate? Ha.

Fine.

“You can give me yours.”

I’d never call it.

He wrote out his digits on a piece of paper, and I tucked it absently in my shorts’ pocket.

I said goodbye again , got in my car, and left. Tonight had been a mistake.

Ten minutes later, I pulled into my complex and parked. My eyes went straight to Declan’s Jeep. He was home, and part of me wanted to knock on his door and just … I don’t know … talk.

I made my way up the staircase to the breezeway that led to my door. I fished around in my purse and found my keys just as a loud male voice came from behind me on the breezeway a few feet away.

“Elizabeth, wait a minute!”

I turned, half expecting to see Harry. I was ready to tell him off for following me home like a creeper, but the truth dawned on me as I watched the handsome guy jog over to me.

I froze for a second and then snapped myself out of it. I tried to shove my key in the lock but fumbled and dropped them to the ground.

There he stood, Colby Scott, tall and handsome, wearing black pants and a black shirt, his hair swept low over his forehead, ice-blue eyes glittering at me. He looked the same but thinner and harder, a tightness around his face as his chin jutted out.

Of course, I’d seen him in passing in Petal after the hotel. Once at a gas station when I was filling up my car to head back to Raleigh and another time at the local Wal-Mart. He’d leered at me but had never spoken, and hearing his voice now was a shock.

“Don’t come any closer to me or I will scream this place down and someone will call the cops.” I bit the words out, but inside I quaked.

He held his hands up. “Hang on. I’m not going to hurt you. I just wanted to pop by and say hi. In case you haven’t heard the good news, I’ll be a Whitman student come Monday. Got kicked out of NYU, I’m afraid—too much partying apparently. As you can imagine, Dad wasn’t too thrilled about that.” He sent me a wry grin, as if expecting me to smile along with him. “Anyway, I just got settled into an apartment nearby. I couldn’t be this close and not look you up, Elizabeth. We dated once. We had some good times. Aren’t you glad to see me?” His low southern drawl washed over me in waves. Making me ill.

Was he crazy? Didn’t he know what he’d done to me?

My gut churned as the entire world tilted on its axis, and the only way I was able to stay upright was by leaning against my door.

Panic beat at me.

God. Don’t pass out.

“Get away from me. Now.” I panted, the air growing thin. My heart thundered.

Had he been waiting for me in the parking lot?

Even if I wanted to scream, I couldn’t seem to muster up the air to do it. Somehow I managed to bend down and snatch my keys.

He smiled, raking his eyes over my body. He came closer. “You’re still as pretty as ever, Elizabeth. I hope we can catch up real soon.”

My hand clutched my keys as the fear escalated higher. I made a fist with my keys and showed him. “Don’t come one inch closer.”

He laughed and placed his hand up on the wall behind my head. “You’re not going to do a damn thing. You’re too scared. Besides I’m not here to bother you, only to get a welcome to Whitman from you. Does everyone here know what a sexy little thing you are? How you like it? Hmm?”

I snapped away from him, using my hands to push off his chest.

If I could just get to Declan’s door.

A FEMALE’S RAISED voice penetrated my brain and in my half-asleep state, I pictured Elizabeth in my bed, lying back against my sheets …

Her voice came again.

Shit.

This was no dream.

I sat up from the couch where I’d fallen asleep after the gym and glanced at the clock on the telly. I groaned as I clicked on the lamp. Barely eleven. I scrubbed my face, my muscles screaming. I’d been at the gym most of the afternoon working on sets and sparring with Max. Dax had come by to watch, and later on we’d ended up catching dinner together.

A male’s voice came next, and I perked up

Who was that?

The greasy guy from the truck stop came to mind.

I jerked up, not bothering to put a shirt on.

As soon as I stepped out the front door and into the breezeway, I caught a clue. A guy I didn’t recognize had Elizabeth cornered with his body, a hard look on his face.

“Get away from me,” Elizabeth yelled at him, her face ashen.

I saw red. Bloody hell, I saw every fucking color imaginable.

Without pausing, I rushed and ripped into him with a palm strike straight to his face. Hard. His neck snapped back and blood splattered in the air.

His body got airborne as he lost his balance and landed on the concrete of the breezeway, nearly toppling over into the carpark below.

Elizabeth gasped, but I didn’t look at her.

With tightly clenched fists, I loomed over him, doing a mental checklist: five eleven, blond hair, newly broken nose, a Rolex on his wrist. I fished around in his pockets, but his wallet wasn’t there.

“Don’t hurt me, man,” he said, opening his eyes with a wild look on his face as he took me in. He swallowed, wiping at the blood that dripped from his nose to his mouth. “I was just saying hi to an old friend. Nothing’s going on.”

I didn’t like the look of him, from the expensive cut of his clothes to the petulant droop of his mouth. And then his eyes slid over to Elizabeth as if drawn there. Incensed, I kicked him in the ribs with my bare foot. “Don’t look at her. Get out of here before I rip your throat out.”