college-aged guy not much taller than me standing in the middle of the aisle. Dim track lighting from the ceiling reflected shadows across the smug look on his face.
My steps slowed to a halt and my stomach knotted as the feeling of being watched from my dream came back to me. “Um, hey.” I thumbed back toward the microfiche machine and gave a nervous laugh. “If you’re looking for the microfiche section, the machine’s all yours. Hopefully you won’t have as much trouble finding what you’re looking for as I did.”
The guy tilted his head and looked me up and down, then snorted. “You’re not much to look at. Such a tiny bird.”
I stiffened. “Not that I was asking for an opinion, but since you’re handing insults out like candy, I wouldn’t even notice you if I passed you on the street.”
He folded his arms against his birdcage chest. “Oh, really? You wouldn’t give me a second look?”
Arrogant much? This had to be the oddest conversation I’d ever had with a stranger. Where the heck had Drystan gone? To the moon? I squared my shoulders. We were practically the same size. If he tried to lay a hand on me, I could take him. “Nope. Now that we’ve shared our mutual disinterest, I’m out of here,” I said before I turned down a bookcase aisle that led to the stairwell.
I’d made it halfway down the aisle when the guy suddenly appeared at the other end. He leaned against the bookcase, dark eyebrows elevated. “ This is going to be fun.”
His speed had surprised me, but it was the depth of his laugh that sent a chill rippling through me. As it resonated in the small space, the baritone seemed at odds with his size, like the laugh of a giant coming from an ant. I stopped, clutching the leather journal to my chest. “What do you want?” I’d tried for confident, but my voice shook a little.
He pushed off the bookcase, a lazy smile spreading across his face. “A good fight.”
Chapter Six
Had I been dropped into another person’s life, someone who’d really pissed this guy off? When he took a step forward, my insides quivered. I spun around, then bolted in the opposite direction. As soon as I rounded the bookcase and turned back into the main aisle, he was there, blocking my path.
I screamed, trying to backtrack, but he grabbed my shoulders and slammed me against the end of the bookcase. Sheer delight danced in his dark eyes.
His bony hands were heavier than they looked, biting like claws into my skin through my jacket’s jean material. “Come on. Give me your best shot, my little tweet. You’re not making this any fun.”
I tried to twist free from his grip, but his hold was surprisingly strong. His thin arms didn’t budge against my struggles. “You must think I’m someone else. I don’t want to fight you.”
His narrow face creased in confusion. “You’re just going to let me kill you? Without a fight?” he said, shaking me so hard I lost my grip on the leather book.
When the journal hit the floor, he glanced down and hissed as if his eyes burned. He shut his eyes for a second, then drilled his dark gaze into mine. Wild excitement had replaced his annoyed confusion. He yanked my backpack off my shoulder and held it out, demanding, “Put that book inside your backpack and zip it closed.”
Anger boiled inside me, puffing my chest in defiance. He wanted my journal? No way was I giving up my only connection to Ethan. I jerked my head back and forth and gritted, “Do it yourself!” I didn’t know why he wanted my journal, but he’d have to release me to retrieve it. When he bent to pick it up, I’d knee him in the head, then grab my journal and make a break for the door.
He sounded like a dragon about to expel fire as he shoved me to my knees, ruining my plans for escape. Yanking my jacket, he pressed my face close to the opened journal on the floor. “I said, ‘Pick it up, bitch!’”
“Screw you!” I screamed at the same time I purposefully
My steps slowed to a halt and my stomach knotted as the feeling of being watched from my dream came back to me. “Um, hey.” I thumbed back toward the microfiche machine and gave a nervous laugh. “If you’re looking for the microfiche section, the machine’s all yours. Hopefully you won’t have as much trouble finding what you’re looking for as I did.”
The guy tilted his head and looked me up and down, then snorted. “You’re not much to look at. Such a tiny bird.”
I stiffened. “Not that I was asking for an opinion, but since you’re handing insults out like candy, I wouldn’t even notice you if I passed you on the street.”
He folded his arms against his birdcage chest. “Oh, really? You wouldn’t give me a second look?”
Arrogant much? This had to be the oddest conversation I’d ever had with a stranger. Where the heck had Drystan gone? To the moon? I squared my shoulders. We were practically the same size. If he tried to lay a hand on me, I could take him. “Nope. Now that we’ve shared our mutual disinterest, I’m out of here,” I said before I turned down a bookcase aisle that led to the stairwell.
I’d made it halfway down the aisle when the guy suddenly appeared at the other end. He leaned against the bookcase, dark eyebrows elevated. “ This is going to be fun.”
His speed had surprised me, but it was the depth of his laugh that sent a chill rippling through me. As it resonated in the small space, the baritone seemed at odds with his size, like the laugh of a giant coming from an ant. I stopped, clutching the leather journal to my chest. “What do you want?” I’d tried for confident, but my voice shook a little.
He pushed off the bookcase, a lazy smile spreading across his face. “A good fight.”
Chapter Six
Had I been dropped into another person’s life, someone who’d really pissed this guy off? When he took a step forward, my insides quivered. I spun around, then bolted in the opposite direction. As soon as I rounded the bookcase and turned back into the main aisle, he was there, blocking my path.
I screamed, trying to backtrack, but he grabbed my shoulders and slammed me against the end of the bookcase. Sheer delight danced in his dark eyes.
His bony hands were heavier than they looked, biting like claws into my skin through my jacket’s jean material. “Come on. Give me your best shot, my little tweet. You’re not making this any fun.”
I tried to twist free from his grip, but his hold was surprisingly strong. His thin arms didn’t budge against my struggles. “You must think I’m someone else. I don’t want to fight you.”
His narrow face creased in confusion. “You’re just going to let me kill you? Without a fight?” he said, shaking me so hard I lost my grip on the leather book.
When the journal hit the floor, he glanced down and hissed as if his eyes burned. He shut his eyes for a second, then drilled his dark gaze into mine. Wild excitement had replaced his annoyed confusion. He yanked my backpack off my shoulder and held it out, demanding, “Put that book inside your backpack and zip it closed.”
Anger boiled inside me, puffing my chest in defiance. He wanted my journal? No way was I giving up my only connection to Ethan. I jerked my head back and forth and gritted, “Do it yourself!” I didn’t know why he wanted my journal, but he’d have to release me to retrieve it. When he bent to pick it up, I’d knee him in the head, then grab my journal and make a break for the door.
He sounded like a dragon about to expel fire as he shoved me to my knees, ruining my plans for escape. Yanking my jacket, he pressed my face close to the opened journal on the floor. “I said, ‘Pick it up, bitch!’”
“Screw you!” I screamed at the same time I purposefully
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