Cece stared wide-eyed at the man standing too close and gripping her arm too tightly. He was tall with a thick, bushy beard and hazel eyes that stared coldly at her. He shook her hard. “Lady! Give me your fucking purse!”
He must have come out from the side street, Cece thought. She’d forgotten the number one goddamn rule for a woman walking alone at night – always pay attention to your surroundings.
“Bitch, your fucking purse!” the man snarled.
She handed it over without a word. Still holding her arm, the man dropped her purse at his feet and sneered, “Christ, you could have at least tried to fight back. Then I wouldn’t feel so bad about killing you.”
Fear shot through Cece, sending another dump of adrenaline through her body. She tried to pull away, crying out when the man’s grip tightened brutally and sent pain shooting up her arm. “Too late now, sweetheart.”
She fumbled for the pepper spray in her coat pocket, but the man wrenched her arm up until she screamed, the resulting pain in her shoulder nearly driving her to her knees. She punched at him with her free hand, and the man cursed when her flailing hand caught him in the nose.
He pulled on her arm again, and Cece screamed thinly, the pain now a white-hot agony that turned her thoughts hazy and distant. She was going to faint, she realized with dim surprise.
“Look, this isn’t personal,” the man said, his voice soft like it was fighting to reach her through the fog of pain surrounding her. Cece stared dumbly at the switchblade the man now held.
“I’ll make it quick for you, yeah? Just one fast,” he made a jabbing motion with the blade in the frosty air, “to the chest, and it’ll all be over.”
Cece gasped for air, the tears freezing on her cheeks, as the man grinned at her. “It’s not personal,” he repeated. “Now, just relax, and this will all be over in -”
The low predatory growl behind him made him freeze in place. He stared at Cece before releasing her and shoving her back. She cried out, her feet slipping on the snow and ice. She went down hard, her elbow smashing into the pavement and her hip taking the brunt of her fall.
The man turned, his body tense, and the switchblade raised in front of him. He stared at the giant of a man standing behind him. “What the fuck, dude? I thought you were a goddamn bear the way you growled. Get the fuck out of here, this doesn’t concern you.”
When the giant didn’t move, the man pointed the blade at him. “Are you fucking deaf? Get the fuck out of here before I…”
His voice died in a faint, whispery moan when the man grinned at him. The streetlights cast plenty of light to show off his long, wickedly sharp canine teeth.
“Oh fuck,” her assailant said before dropping the knife and bolting down the side street, his feet slipping and sliding in the snow.
Cece stared at the man standing above her. She recognized him. How could she not when she’d had his tongue in her mouth and his hand in her pants?
Let’s do that again, her inner voice said gleefully.
“It’s you,” she said. “Briggs.”
He didn’t reply and made no move to help her up. Probably for the best, considering she’d nearly crushed him with a tree the last time he touched her.
“Cece?” Willow peeked around Briggs’s massive body, concern all over her face. “Honey, are you okay?”
CHAPTER 2
“Drink some coffee, Cece,” Willow said. “You look nearly frozen.”
Cece reached obediently for her coffee, stopping when her hands trembled so badly that she couldn’t grip the cup.
Willow reached out and took both her hands, squeezing them tight before saying, “It’s the adrenaline, Cece. You’re okay, honey. Take some deep breaths, okay?”
“I almost died,” Cece said in a low voice.
She glanced around, her gaze lingering on Briggs, who sat at a table behind theirs in the small coffee shop. His blue eyes met hers only briefly before he studied their surroundings, his big body stiff and alert.
“Why isn’t he sitting with us?” Cece asked. Her voice sounded weird and muffled.
“Don’t take offense,” Willow said. “He’s a polar bear shifter, and they’re naturally grumpy and introverted.”
“Right.” Cece stared at Willow. “I think I might faint.”
“Deep breaths,” Willow said firmly. “C’mon, Cece, do what I do.”
