Page 31 of Knotting Autumn

For the first time, real fear prickled through me. Not fear about what might be lurking in the shadows or how the world might be different than I knew, but true fear of the man in front of me and what he might do.

“I think you should leave,” I said, hating the way my voice shook.

He scoffed. “No, I’m here to retrieve my mate.” His lips curved into a smirk, like he was amused at something. “So let’s go.”

Reaching forward, he grabbed at my wrist. I jerked back, stumbling off the stool. He closed in, grabbing my wrist again. The squeeze of his grip brought tears to my eyes.

“Let me go!” I cried, twisting my arm.

He held tight. “Come on, shut up and be obedient.”

Rage boiled up, burning through my fear. Snarling, I stepped forward, placing all my weight on that foot so I could swing my other leg up and kick him between the legs.

My kick landed, and he let out a classicoof, doubling over.

His grip loosened, and I yanked free as he wheezed.

“You little bitch!”

“I’m calling the police now, you fucker!” Scrambling away, I launched myself through the staff door to the back and threw the bolt.

Margie stood there, her mouth open. The chocolate chip cookie in her hand dropped to the floor.

“Um, yeah, the guy I went out with the other day, turns out he’s a psycho,” I panted. “We might need to call the police.”

Gathering herself, Margie walked to the desk and retrieved something small and rectangular. Holding it up, she said, “Leave it to me.”

The small device crackled as she pressed the button. Margie had a taser!

Despite my better judgement, I opened the door for her, and she stalked past, brandishing the weapon.

“I’ve always wanted to use this,” she muttered.

Heart pounding, I followed her into the store.

The contents of the register counter were all over the floor, including the tablet and locked cash drawer. The display of dog treats beside the counter was also knocked over and spilled across the brown-and-white linoleum.

But thankfully, Thorne was gone.

Sighing, Margie turned to me. “Do you still want to file a police report?”

The air in my lungs felt tight, my stomach churning. “No, I don’t think so. But I need to talk to Sawyer before I decide for sure. Is that okay?”

Margie nodded sagely. “Whatever you need to do.”

Cringing, I gathered the dog treats, grateful they were individually wrapped, and set the display upright. Once the front of the store was back to normal, I headed to the back to take my lunch break. My sandwich tasted like cardboard.

After a few minutes, Margie came into the back. She patted my shoulder. “Listen, we need to have a talk.”

My heart dropped. Margie was never this grave. She settled across from me, her mouth thinning.

“I just got off a call with my aunt. We feel that you need to take a little time off. The store can’t afford drama like this, and you need a break to sort things out.”

“What? That wasn’t my fault. And it was one guy.”

Her eyebrows shot up. We both knew it was the fourth time Thorne had visited the store.

“We can pay out your vacation time, and then reevaluate in a couple of weeks, okay?”