Page 42 of Ugly Beautiful Scars

"That's, um, really not necessary," she says, but he's already moving toward the door, leaving her little choice but to follow.

I inch closer, grinding my teeth.She said 'bye' so just fucking leave already.

Through the heavy wooden door with its brass fixtures and small windows, I can see a narrow entry hall—simple tile floor, mailboxes lining one wall. Londyn's shoulders are high and tight again as her date follows her in, hovering too close as she stops in front of the mailboxes. Many of the buildings in this part of Manhattan are old and don't have elevators, so he might expect to walk her up the stairs. She pretends to dig in her purse for her keys as she says something to the guy, likely another attempt to get rid of him. They disappear from view as they head toward what must be a stairwell, and I lose visual contact completely.

"Mike," I say, "I've got a situation with the date, so I'm moving in."

"Copy that," Mike responds. "I've got eyes on our guy. He's standing at the corner checking his phone. Nope. Wait. He's crossing at the light. Walking away. Could be a false alarm. I'll follow a few blocks."

"Thanks." I move into the apartment building quickly, passing the mailboxes. The hallways are narrow and sound carries easily, so I can hear Londyn's voice around the corner and down the hall a bit. I pull out my phone so it looks like I'm texting.

Her date mumbles something. When I turn the corner and see them, they're standing near the bottom of the stairwell and his face is too close to Londyn's. Her spine is rigid and she's pressed against the wall like she's trying to melt into the brick.

Every instinct I have is firing red alerts. This isn't right.

Her date places his hand on the wall beside her head. It's the classic move of assholes everywhere. He's trapping her in place without technically touching her.

Her eyes dart to the stairs, looking for an escape route.

My heartbeat picks up as blood rushes to my ears. We're supposed to be keeping a low profile during this date, not drawing attention. But the way he's looming over her…

Then it happens. The guy leans in with obvious intent, his free hand snaking around her waist and pulling her closer. Londyn makes a small, distressed sound—not quite a scream, more like a panicked yelp—as she tries to push him away.

Something in me snaps.

I'm down the hallway in five quick strides. My hand closes around her date's wrist, yanking it away from Londyn's body with enough force to make him stumble.

"What the—" he starts, but I'm already pivoting, using his momentum to spin him around.

His chest hits the wall with a satisfying thud. I twist his arm behind his back, applying just enough pressure to control him. Then I add a specific torque to his index finger. There's a soft pop as the joint dislocates.

Marcus howls, his body going rigid with pain.

"You need to learn," I growl near his ear, "that when a woman says no, you stopimmediately."

"Who the fuck are you?" he gasps.

I release him with a hard shove toward the exit. "Doesn't matter. Get the fuck out of here and away from her."

He cradles his injured hand, shooting Londyn an appalled look and me a venomous glare. "Crazy bitch," he mutters as he stumbles toward the door.

The rage in my blood is cooling now, satisfaction replacing it as I watch him retreat. But when I turn to Londyn, that satisfaction evaporates.

She's pressed against the wall, eyes wide with terror. Not relief. Not gratitude. Pure, unfiltered fear etched across her pale skin. And it's directed at me.

"Hey," I say softly. "Are you okay?"

She flinches like I've raised a hand to her, shrinking against the wall. "Stay away from me!"

I freeze, completely blindsided by her reaction. The bloodless terror in her eyes doesn't match what just happened. It's deeper somehow.

"I'm sorry," I manage, utterly confused. "Was he not—"

"Where's Mike?" she interrupts, her voice rising with panic. "P-please, send Mike. I need to go home. Please leave."

I back away, hands raised in surrender. Her reaction cuts deeper than I expected, like a blade slicing my tendons. I keep my voice steady despite the storm of confusion making the world foggy. "I'll get him."

I hurry out the door, the cool night air hitting my flushed face. My cover's already compromised; any stalker in the vicinity just witnessed me playing hero.

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