Page 19 of Break

Me: Here. Want us to come inside?

Vincent: Just wait out front for me. I’ll only be ten minutes.

Me: Hurry up, I’m fucking hangry.

Vincent: lol don’t think of juicy burgers or cheese fries.

Me: Five minutes asshole.

“He said to wait out front for him,” I inform Ethan, but he’s focused on something in front of us and doesn’t acknowledge that he’s heard me.

Following his line of sight, I see a woman practically running down the front steps of the station. She’s clutching a thick, blue folder to her chest with knuckles white from how tightly she’s gripping the paper. It’s clear that she’s aggravated or unhappy because her shoulders are tucked up almost to her ears, like someone or something has embarrassed her.

As soon as she hits the bottom step, she turns and heads our way, directly in our path. Cocking my head to the side, I take in her appearance. There’s a familiarity about her, but I can’t put my finger on why or how I could know her.

She’s wearing black leggings, a pair of plain white sneakers, and an oversized thin sweatshirt. Odd choice since we’re in the middle of summer right now and it’s already in the mid-eighties. Although her legs are thin, it’s easy to see that she has some small definition in her muscles. Most likely from regular work either on her feet or exercise. I can tell that her shoulders and arms are sharp, even though she’s smothered under so much cloth.She seems frail.

Looking up at her face, my first thought was is that she’s cute, but it quickly corrects tofucking beautiful. Chestnut thick brown hair hangs around her face, some strands having sprung free from the clip that holds back the rest of her mane. Her skin is porcelain white and, from this distance, looks blemish free. She looks young, but how young is unclear.I know this girl… how the hell do I know who she is?

“You know her?” I ask Ethan under my breath.

He shakes his head subtly no, but he doesn’t seem confident. “Don’t think so.”

A few more strides bring us to her attention as her peripheral vision catches our movement.

The woman jolts to a stop and her eyes widen as she looks between the two of us. I’m no stranger to catching the attention of women, so I let an easy smile lift my lips as I internally consider what line I could use to draw her into conversation.

My smile falls away just as quickly when it’s not reciprocated with one of hers. Instead, she presses her lips together and furrows her brows.

Ethan stops me from walking toward her and dips his head in her direction. “Ma’am.”

This skittish, fairy-like woman’s eyes fly over to look at my friend and her lips turn into a deeper frown, forcing her to bite her lip like she’s holding back her words. She tightens her hold on her folder and takes half a step back, away from us.

Clearing my throat, I give her another friendly smile and say hello. Maybe she just didn’t hear Ethan. “Good afternoon, miss. You doing alright?”

It’s like my voice is a physical blow to her body and she jerks to the side. Instead of answering me, she shrinks in on herself and rapidly takes another few steps back from where we’re blocking the sidewalk.

Opening my mouth to ask her again if she’s alright, Ethan grabs my arm and pulls me off the concrete and a few paces onto the grass. He then holds his hand out, showing that the path is clear for her.

“What the hell?” I ask him under my breath, but he just squeezes my arm before letting it go.

She takes a few hesitant steps while eyeing us. When we don’t move, she picks up her pace and hurries past before veering off toward the bus stop toward the road. The woman never looks back.

Snorting in irritation, I watch her disappearing form and say, “Well, that was fucking rude.”

Ethan simply sighs at me. “Considering the line of work you’re in, you can be a real idiot. That woman was walking out of a police station and was clearly terrified. It has nothing to do with you, dumbass.”

I know he’s right, but it still bothers me. I pride myself on being approachable, especially considering it’s taken me years to get my anger under control.

“Maybe, but it was still fucking rude,” I grumble.

“Let’s eat, you lazy bastards!” Vincent yells from the steps of the station and my answering stomach is enough to distract me from my irritation of the past few minutes.

“Finally,” I growl out at him, another stomach groan almost as loud to match.

I jog past Ethan and catch up to Vincent, who hasn’t slowed down to wait on us, smacking his shoulder in greeting.

“Vince…” Ethan says once he catches up.