Page 6 of Ice Queen

It’s quiet, too quiet, but then I hear it. A snap of a branch, then a crunch of a leaf. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end, my body vibrating with both fear and adrenaline.

“You think you can run from me?” His voice comes from over my shoulder, and I don’t think before I’m turning and pressing the button with my eyes slammed shut.

“You stupid bitch!” He growls, bending at the waist, his hands rapidly swiping at his face.

I drop the canister and take off. I was close enough to the street that someone could have seen that. Someone definitely heard him yell.

The second I break through the treeline, I take a small breath. It’s cold, but there are still people out. My eyes land on the bar, I quickly scan the street, clutch the bag to my chest, and rush to the other side.

I don’t have time to dig my phone out of my backpack, so instead, I rush through the door of the abnormally full, for a Thursday night, bar. Pushing through the crowd, I look for a place to hide.

The door whips open, banging against the wall behind me, and I don’t even have to look to know it’s him. I knew he wouldn’t let me go that easily, but one could hope he’d just move on to someone else.

My eyes land on a man, a very, very tall man. His black hair is shaved on the sides and pushed back on the top, messy in a way that tells you he’s run his hand through it more than once tonight. I hurriedly slide myself in between him and the woman he’s talking to. “I need you to hide me,” I plead.

His eyes widen as they meet mine. “Please, you’re big. Use your body to hide me.” I try again.

He places his drink down on the bar top, backing me up until I can feel the wall against my back. My brain tells me to run again, that this isn’t safe. That this is the exact way it starts, me being backed into a corner I can’t get out of.

“Ay, Mami,” he drawls, a sexy as sin smirk pulling on his lips. The light from above bounces off a metal ring that cuts through his lip. He pushes up against it with his tongue before leaning into me a bit more. “If you wanted my attention, all you had to do was ask.”

He must see my panic because all playfulness bleeds from him as his eyes trail over me. From my face, to the backpack clutched to my chest and back. “Are you in trouble?”

I nod, biting into my bottom lip as I blink rapidly to keep from crying.

“How about I get you out of here instead?” He asks, his massive hand prying my fingers from the material of my backpack. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he says slowly.

“I know you’re in here!” Wyatt's voice carries through the crowded bar, sending my heart rate soaring.

The man above me doesn’t move, his eyes boring into mine. With the hike of an eyebrow, he asks, “That who you’re running from?”

“Yes,” I whisper, eyes falling to the floor.

His thumb meets the front of my chin, slowly lifting my face so he can look me in the eyes. I inhale, my chest tightening as my breath gets stuck in my throat at the sight of him. His eyes are gray, the color of steel, almost translucent in the low light of this bar.

“No more of that,” he murmurs, leaning into me, arms caging me in on either side. I should be panicking, but I’m not. And that fact makes me start to panic. Taking a big breath seemed like a good idea until I got a lungful of his cologne. It’s musky, maybe some mahogany mixed in, but it’s subtle enough that I didn’t notice until he got close enough.

“You can’t hide from me, you know this.” Wyatt roars. He’s close again, a pathetic whimper leaves me, and the man above me immediately responds.

The man angles his body to the side, using his face to block the side of me that my ex is on. “Breathe for me, Princesa. I won’t let him hurt you.”

My eyes search his face for any indication that he’s anything other than sincere, but all he does is stare back at me. It’s the most foreign sensation, standing under a man almost double my size, and not feeling anything but safe.

A frustrated shout cuts through the back room, and my saving grace looks up just in time to see the back entrance slam open and slowly close.

“Come on.” He grabs my hand and pulls me out the front door, not even bothering to say anything to the woman he was with. His arm immediately wraps around my shoulder, my bag slung over his as he walks me to a black SUV.

“It’s a rental, I can get you the plate number if you want to send it to someone,” he says before opening the door and immediately stepping behind me while I get in.

“Are you even okay to drive? I mean, you were at a bar,” I ask, immediately regretting that I did.

He pushes a hand through his hair, his steel gray eyes shining with amusement. “Yes, I hadn’t even finished half of my first drink. I’d never put you or anyone else in danger.”

Rounding the hood of the car, he pulls out his phone, fingers flying across the screen before he pulls his door open. As soon as he gets in, I let out a relieved breath.

“Why are you helping me?” I ask, looking down at my hands as they mindlessly play with a loose string dangling from the side of my pants.

He starts the car, pulls out of the parking lot, and checks his mirrors more than anyone would on a normal day. The veins in the backs of his hands pop as he turns the wheel.