Page 47 of The Longshot

I flash her a look, a look that reads “tell me you want him out of here, and he’ll be gone. I promise, baby girl.”

I stare at her a bit more intently, patiently waiting for an answer, yet as she rubs behind her neck, that’s when I see it, a subtle nod of her head, telling me that, yep, his time is up.

“It’s time for you to go now.” I waste not a second commanding him gone, firmly standing my ground.

“Excuse me?” He’s dumbfounded as he cocks his head backward in disbelief. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Oh yeah?” I rebut, ready to take this to wherever it needs to go. “I think you’re wrong there, lad. You’re going. I don’t care if I have to drag you out of here myself.”

He takes a confident stride forward. “I’d like to see you try.”

I look him up and down—yep, I could take him any day. “Last chance.” My voice is firm. “Back the fuck up.”

“Make me.”

I'm moments away from swinging my fist into his face when Chelsie shouts. “Simon!”

Her voice draws us both away from one another as we peer back in her direction.

“Just go, okay?” her voice hitches with anxiety. “Seriously, I mean it. Go!”

Simon bites down on his lower lip, lodging his stare into her as if he’s waiting for her to take it back. She doesn’t. Instead, she steps forward, reaches out for my arm, and clings on, tucking herself into my embrace.

It’s an unholy feeling, having her touch against mine, one that only makes me even more defensive as I clutch onto her waist and hold her in close.

“You heard her.” My voice is low, sharp. “Leave, and don’t you think about ever contacting my girlfriend again. Or else you and me… we’re going to have a problem.”

An uncomfortable period of silence lingers between the three of us as he assesses our mutual touch until, eventually, he takes a step back, but not in defeat.

“This isn’t over, Chelsie.” He shakes his head, eyes full of intent. “You know it isn’t.”

With a final glare in my direction, Simon escapes the bakery, and before I know it, Chelsie has pulled herself away from my side and raced towards the front door in an attempt to twist the lock shut.

“Hey…” I help her as her hands tremble. “Let me do it.” I twist the lock shut, going that one step even further to barricade myself against the door as an extra barrier of protection.

“Chelsie?” I say her name, hopeful that she’ll meet my eyes. “He’s gone now,” I tell her. “He’s not getting back in here. I promise you. I won’t let him.”

After a brief moment, I watch as she attempts to rid the fear from her eyes before she flashes me a pained nod. Little does she realize that it’s too late.

I saw her fear.

I heard her fear.

I felt it radiating from her skin into mine.

It’s an emotion I only wish I could strip and never allow her to feel again.

“Thank you.” She’s breathless as she attempts to wipe her nose against her sleeve. “Thank you for doing that for me, Gary. Seriously.”

It feels wrong to accept a “thank you” from her. She doesn’t need to thank me as if what I just did was some sort of favor.

It wasn’t.

Fuck, I hardly know a damn thing about this girl, but I know that I would have never let anything happen to her—I never will let anything happen to her.

“You don’t need to thank me,” I tell her, attempting to quickly reach out to place a soothing hand on her face, a gesture that only causes her to flinch back.

I pull my hand away in remorse.

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