Page 19
“No need to be so formal, Harmony.” His eyes slide down my frame with an unashamed, disgusting familiarity that makes my blood run hot with fury. “We’re not strangers. In fact we were very well acquainted. Though, I have to admit... time has been exceptionally kind to you.”
He takes another step forward, closing the distance between us until he’s invading my space.
“Have you been dodging me for fifteen years, Harmony?” He lowers his voice into a conspiratorial tone. “You know... I still think about those afternoons after class. I still think about what we had.”
He reaches out, his heavy hand sliding toward my waist.
“Step back.” My voice drops an octave into a lethal register as my hand hovers over my knife.
He ignores the warning.
His fingers clamp tightly around my upper arm, the one reaching for my blade. His rough grip pulls me an inch closer to his chest.
“Come on, Harm. Don’t play coy now. We were good together. We could be again.”
Rage flares bright and blinding behind my eyes.
I don’t hesitate. I yank my arm backward with all my weight, breaking his grip with a sharp, violent wrench.
I take two steps back, this time reaching beneath the hem of my sweater.
My fingers wrap tightly around the leather pommel of my hunting knife, pulling the blade halfway out of its leather scabbard. The cold steel gleams dimly in the shadows.
My voice goes deadly quiet. “Touch me again, Marcus, and I’ll carve your throat out.”
His eyes widen slightly at the sight of the steel, but his intoxicated arrogance takes over. He scoffs, taking a step back, holding his hands up in mock surrender.
“Still feisty,” he sneers, a nasty edge entering his voice. “You always were a little psycho. But don’t forget who you’re talking to. I know you’re just a scared little girl.”
“And I know what you are,” I spit back, my eyes narrowing into slits. “How are the wife and kids, Marcus? Your son must be in high school by now? Must be nice, playing the respectable family man while you prey on teenage girls.”
His face darkens, the smug smile vanishing completely. “You didn’t give two fucks about my family when you were spreading your legs for me in the back of my van…”
“And I give even less of a fuck about you now. Walk away before I make sure your wife finds out every single detail of what you did.” I lean forward, letting the full venom of my disgust drop into every word.
Marcus’s jaw sets in a hard, ugly line. He takes a menacing step toward me, his fists clenching at his sides.
“You arrogant little bitch—”
Suddenly, the temperature behind me drops to that of dry ice.
A heavy, suffocating shadow falls over the path, blocking out the light from the string bulbs overhead. The metallic smell of blood and rain hits my lungs a fraction of a second before I feel the massive, radiating heat of a body standing directly behind my left shoulder.
Death.
I don’t even have to turn around.
His presence is like a tidal wave. The sheer, terrifying weight of his undeniable energy presses against my back like a physical wall.
Ryder steps out of the shadows, towering over both of us like a demon summoned straight from hell.
Before Marcus can react, a massive, calloused hand reaches past my shoulder, fast as a striking viper. It clamps tight around Marcus’s throat, shoving him into the wooden post, carving a perfect line in the sawdust.
Marcus drops his beer cup, his hands frantically clawing at Ryder’s thick wrist, his face instantly turning a mottled, panicked purple as he gasps for air.
Ryder’s expression bleeds into a mask of complete and utter death. His dark eyes burn with a fiery, lethal rage as he stares down into the suffocating man’s bulging eyes.
As he leans in, Ryder’s deep voice cuts through the damp night air like a jagged blade. “It’s so good to see you again, Mr. Knight.”
