Page 80 of Cross the Line
“No. No, it’s not. It’s not small. It’s… It’s…”
Elijah said he isn’t a good person. That he’s a liar. A manipulator.
Shaking off the fog of panic, I take a step back, gripping the coffees and muffin box tighter as I move around him and rush up the steps to the walkway in front of East of Chic. Summer has to be at the studio already—she’salwaysearly on Thursdays, so we can skip the office on Fridays.
Shit. The door’s locked when I try it, and the sign still readsClosed.
My pulse jumps up several notches, hazing my vision as I look around—stranded outside the studio with Ryker-freaking-Hallman casually sauntering my way. Aside from the coffee shop patrons, Thursdays are always quiet around here.
I don’t think he’s going to physically hurt me, but that photo on his phone… it could hurt Elijah and Jayden.
Spinning to face him, I stuff the box of muffins under my arm and shove my hand into my purse, searching for the pepper spray Christina insisted I carry.
“Stop,” I snap when he comes closer. He doesn’t, and my hand fishes around the random contents of my purse frantically. “Go away. Leave me alone.”
“I’m trying to look out for you,” he retorts, holding his ground like he has every right to be there. “A nice girl like you doesn’t deserve to be led on and?—”
“I told you to leave.”
“I’m trying to help you… to save you from him. He’ll fuck you up. It’s what he does, Finley-James.”
His hand brushes my shoulder just as a flash goes off to the side.
Before I can shake him off, the reporter is already running—camera in hand.
“Get off me!” I shove him back, crushing the coffees into his chest. “Stop stalking me!”
“Fuck,” he spits, leaping away and swatting at the hot liquid dripping down his torso. “Stupid bitch!”
All I can hear is Elijah’s growl beneath the pounding in my chest.
Liar. Manipulator. Piece of shit.
I hate him.
Uncontrollable hell pounds through me—my chest, my face, my whole body—as I watch Ryker shake himself off.
I hope it burns. That he’s hurting the way he hurt Elijah. My Elijah.
“You—you’re an asshole, and I ha—hate you. I hate you for everything you did to him and—” Even if I don’t know what it is. “—for all the lies you tell and… and…”
Rage scalds down my throat, choking me. Stinging behind my eyes when he takes another purposeful step forward.
“You think I’m the liar,” he scoffs, head tipping to the side, eyes narrowed. “Is that what pretty Eli told you?”
“You have five seconds before I call the cops,” I warn, resisting the urge to retreat. I know my only option is to hold my ground.
Ryker chuckles, lips curling over his teeth. “I warned him, too. To stand up to the bullies. I warned him, and he didn’t fucking listen. So he had it coming… ask Presley.” His sickly smile widens.
“Presley.” My heart stops.
“Oh, if you think you hate me?—”
“Hey!” Summer hollers from the steps. She’s clutching her growing belly as she rushes to my side. “Get away from her!”
“I was just leaving,” Ryker retorts, raising his hands as he backs away in the opposite direction.
Summer’s hand finds mine, squeezing hard as we watch him disappear from sight.
