“You fucking bitch,” he hisses.
It’s then that I realize, stunned, that I’ve miscalculated. I determined Jesse’s reactions based on the man I knew while we were dating. I forgot to factor in a Jesse that hasn’t taken our break-up as well as I had hoped.
“Jesse…” I start.
His fingers dig into my shoulders and I wince, closing my mouth.
“You’ve said enough!” he shouts. “Always going on and on about what I did wrong… You were no saint either!”
“I know that,” I try, never one to keep my mouth shut.
His face twists into something ugly. For a moment, I genuinely think he’s going to hit me. I’ve never been scared of Jesse before. I’ve never worried about what he will do to me. But, at that exact moment, I am. I look up at him, at the insanity in his eyes, and I wonder if I ever knew him.
I rip myself away from him, my heart pounding in my chest, using the element of surprise to break his grip. I back away, suddenly knowing that I can’t outrun him, and he advances on me, a dark look on his face that makes my breath catch.
It’s at that moment that footsteps cut into the silence. The sound is so out of place that both Jesse and I hesitate, confused. I look up to see a man ambling down the other side of the road, yawning. He’s tall and rugged, clad in a black leather jacket, rubbing the stubble on his face as he walks.
He looks up. Jesse and I are both staring at him, startled by his intrusion. I wonder what this looks like, with me pressed against the fence, Jesse so obviously holding me in place. Something flickers across the man’s face and he begins to turn away.
Then I take a step back, wincing at the suddenness of the streetlight above me, and his eyes meet mine.
Chapter Two
Kyle
It’s cold, and I’m tired, and I’m a little irritated about having to leave the Anchor Bar so damn early. It’s unfortunate, but I don’t want to be late for work tomorrow; the old man at Brooks Automotive has given me a real shot, and I don’t want to blow it.
So I leave my clubmates behind at the bar, all of them celebrating our victory; despite all the odds, we’ve managed to save the house we’ve been using since our club started from the grimy hands of the council, and now we have the money, too, to clean it up.
With a yawn, I tug my jacket a little more firmly around myself to ward off the chilly air and amble down the road. The night is still young and I don’t live very far from here, but I find myself missing my bike; the warmth of the exhaust would warm me up quite quickly, and I would already be in bed by now.
Up ahead, I see the bright lights of some sort of convenience store. I consider stopping and getting something to eat on the way home; it’s been some time since dinner, and I’m feeling a little hungry. Then I remember the unopened bags of chips that are littering my apartment and I snort; I have plenty of food at home if I want it.
I can hear someone shouting up ahead, but I’m honestly too tired to deal with this shit tonight. Let them sort out their problems, I decide.
But my head turns anyway, drawn to the scene, and I see a man and a woman across the road. The woman is taking careful steps backward, but I can’t quite see her expression in the darkness. The man is advancing on her slowly, his shoulders locked tight, almost like a predator stalking their prey.
I’m not a monster. I don’t like to see people prey on others; it’s one of the reasons me and that dick Tom Green don’t get along very well. Not that he gets along with anyone, to be honest. If I see something like this, nine times out of ten I’ll intervene.
Tonight, I’m tired. I want to go to bed. I don’t want to deal with other people’s crap. I might regret my decision to walk away in the morning but, right now, I don’t give a damn.
I might have turned away then. But movement catches my eye, instead. The woman takes another step back, and she’s suddenly underneath the streetlight.
My first thought is that she’s gorgeous. She’s tall and willowy, her face framed by wisps of long brown hair that is escaping the complicated knot that has been twisted up at the nape of her neck. She’s carrying a shoulder bag, which she’s gripping tightly as she backs away.
Then her eyes rise to meet mine. They’re so deeply blue that my breath catches. But, more than the beauty of her eyes, it’s the surprise and fear in them that catches me.
My body moves before I can consciously consider what to do next.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
The man jolts; he, too, has been staring at me, as surprised by my appearance as the woman, as though neither of them had expected someone to pass by on a public street. I glance at the convenience store nearby; there’s a young girl at the counter, but she isn’t paying any attention to what’s happening as she flicks through a magazine and bobs her head to some unheard music.
Looks like this is on me.
I stalk forward. The man is glaring at me, but his bravado begins to fade as I get closer and he realizes how tall I am and how much broader my shoulders are than his.
Then his expression twists. I can smell the alcohol from here; he’s too far gone to listen to any logic. He’s raring for a fight, and he isn’t going to stop until he gets one, no matter who he has to piss off to do it.