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My harsh tone sends him back a couple of inches, and I push forward, gaze unwavering from his. Several tense seconds pass before he falters, realizing he won’t win this battle. He takes off down the vestibule and darts into the rain.
I glance at Jules, taking in the paleness of her face, and lace our fingers together. “I don’t feel right leaving you here alone. He might come back.”
“He won’t hurt me.”
“He’s drunk. Intoxicated people can be unpredictable.” I should know, considering how alcohol played a part in changing Monica’s behavior.
“This is nothing new,” she says, yet the strong grip of her hand tells me otherwise. His behavior shook her to the core. “This is Chris being Chris.”
I sigh at the sadness in her voice. “Except now he’s lost you. I don’t trust desperate people, Jules.” I hate that I don’t know her ex better. Maybe I’d feel less nervous about leaving her to fend him off by herself if I knew the guy, but I don’t.
“I’ll be fine,” she says, standing on tiptoe to wind her arms around my neck. “And I promise I’ll never kiss him again.”
“This isn’t about that. I just need to know you’ll be safe.”
“I’ll be fine.” She plants a kiss on my lips. “Go do what you need to do so you can come back to me that much sooner.”
I hold onto her for a while longer, but my gut is heavy with dread. When I make my way into the alley, leaving her on her doorstep, I’m disturbingly unsettled.
