Page 4 of Her Feral Biker
Both stepped back, flanking my door, and said nothing. They just stood there in the perfect intimidation tactic.
Worst time to vague out, ever.
I glanced over my shoulder at the counter to find what was probably a cold cup of coffee by now that sat on the edge with a hand written note tucked under it.
Don’t work too late. Call if you need.
Clarissa.
I wanted to cry. Or scream.
Instead, I glanced back out the window, into the shadows.
Please be here. Please.
But I didn’t know my watcher’s name, and I doubted he would be there, iftheywere here tonight. My other monsters.
My door banged again. I didn’t need to look up.
“The shop’s closed.” The lie slipped from my lips, poorly thought out at best/worst, but it was the first thing that slipped across my panicked mind.
“Funny thing, because the sign here says that you’re open.” Prinze Kola sauntered into my shop like he owned the place.He wished.
Dark hair fluffed over one eye in a fringe that should have been greased down to fit the mafia heir mold. I knew who he was. Everyone did. Surely he had other ways to occupy his time. But for whatever reason, he decided to bother me.
And I couldn't get rid of him. Lie—I knew how to get rid of him. I just chose not to play but his rules. Which was both funny and not funny all at once.
And not a joke, really, though I wanted to laugh hysterically at the thought, because if he had it his way, he would. Laugh, that is.
And take everything I owned.
“I was getting around to closing up.”
“And yet, you’re too late.”
“What do you want, Prinze?” I said, tiredly.
“What I always want, Annalise. For you to take up the offer. The same offer that I made last week.” He neared me, and I took a step back.
Mistake.
His smile sharpened. My senses, overstimulated and overtired, went haywire. I wanted to run, but that would be a greater mistake than the one I already made. He wouldn’t chase me, but his friends in their suits would and I knew his sort. Thebully who never came alone or unarmed. Nor would he stop at causing pain in order to get what he wanted.
My chest constricted. I’d spent every dime I saved and the inheritance split between myself and my sisters to buy my shop. The land this little building sat on, the actual store itself. Everything in it. This place was mine and I’d do anything to keep it that way. No one would take it from me. My one little piece ofsomethingin this world.
Will my watcher also try to take something from me?
I pushed that thought aside and focused on the threat before me. The real one, not the fantasy man of last night who kept me up for hours well beyond when I should have given him permission to be inside my mind. Hell, I didn't even know his name.
Instead, I struggled to focus on Prinze as he stepped into my space. Fingers brushed over my arm as one of his men pushed the door open and left. My attention jerked and the hand gripped my arm tight.
I let out a cry and yanked away from him.
“I’m not selling anything to you,” I seethed.Find someone else to pick on. Please.I summoned every inch of my remaining energy. “For the last time, get out.”
Prinze smiled faintly. “I don’t know why you think you can say such things. If I were you, I’d be more careful, little Annalise. It would be so awful to see all this…” He gestured about the shop, turning to his other minion and nodded. The man strode over to my till, jimmied the drawer open and scooped out the cash to my sharp objection. A blade flicked open at my waist, stifling my cry as I stilled, and Prinze kept talking. “It would be so awful to see all this hard work of yours, Annalise, just disappear. Like it never existed. Could you imagine coming in one day and the shop wasn’t here at all? Like it was…burnt out?” Prinze gifted me another faint smile. “I’ll collect rent until you sell, or theshop isn’t here and then I’ll take the land from you anyway.” He turned towards the door, then swiveled back to face me and his smile dropped, his mask discarded to show the cruelty that lay beneath. “Or maybe you’ll be inside when it burns.”
No threat entered his voice, only a promise of when. My breath ceased altogether as he walked out of my shop, whistling softly. The little bell tinkled over the door, the traitorous thing deciding to work finally, far too late.
