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A lump was forming in my throat, so I pulled out my phone and shot a quick text off to my younger brother. “Hey loser, are you heading back soon?” I tried to play it calmly. He knew about the dreams and the man killing him since we were kids. Our father hated me bringing it up, and after my brother also started having nightmares, I stopped mentioning them.
I wondered if he forgot about them too.
I can’t imagine how it must feel to know that someone’s had visions about how you die.
Looking back up, I stared over to the light pole the man had been standing by.
His square jaw, intense nose, and pronounced cheekbones. The way his hair loosely curled and tangled over his face. He was gorgeous, but that didn’t help fight down the anxiety prickling in my stomach.
My phone buzzed, and I sighed with relief as I saw my brother’s response.
“Miss me? Haha, I’ll be back soon.”
Shaking my head to ignore this anxious response, I walked over to the register and put in the cash before starting to clean up. My brothers gained the shop when our parents died, which sucked because I was always working there. I guess my mom wanted more for me than greasy towels and childish brawls with customers, but why break something that worked?
This is what I knew, and at least this way, I could keep an eye on my brother Isaac.
I had to protect him.
The random-vision-guy wasn’t there. I just had to get over myself and stop believing every stress-headache and vision meant something was going to happen. My head throbbed, though, and I pushed these thoughts to the side. Grabbing a broom, I spread cat litter down over the spilled oil and let it start doing its job.
“I would have kicked his ass if you didn’t.”
His voice was deep, with a bit of gravel in it like he’d been through something. I looked up, and my stomach was back in knots. It was him.
“Shop’s closed for the afternoon; come back in the morning,” I said without thinking. He didn’t need to stick around any longer than I could stand. What the hell.
“It’s only one. The office door says you close at five.”
He quirked his mouth into a smile that would have been charming on anyone else, but it was making me nearly nauseous. What the fuck was he doing here. Why?
How?
“Why’d you vanish when I pushed him over? Worried I’d do the same to you?” I tried to provoke him into stopping whatever the hell he was doing.
“I just wanted to be ready if he was going to try and take things further.”
“Be ready?”
“To shift,” he answered.
He didn’t make any sense. His voice was comfortable, easy-going, and he leaned against the wall next to the garage door.
“I can handle myself.”
“I can see that. Why do you act so tough?”
He was starting to anger me.
“Why do you think it’s okay to say things like this to someone you don’t know?” My voice was clipped and annoyed, but I wasn’t going to hide my aggravation. He looked surprised but like he was settled in to stay. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, the movement caught my eyes, and I could look away from his face. He was wearing a deep gray suit set, but the way he leaned, his body was tense even as he tried to look relaxed.
It felt like looking at a tightly pulled bow, the arrow just waiting to fly loose and tear through anything in its path.
“I feel like we know each other.”
He said this with a slightly flirty tone. From anyone else, I would take it as a foul and cheesy line. From him, it was different. Ididknow him. He was a hot door in a house fire. There was something dangerous on the other side if I tried to open it, but I didn’t want to.
My brother was my world.
