Page 41 of Séance

Gunner’s chest puffs up like he managed to bench press a car, not push her dainty ass no faster than an old geezer’s scooter. I back away from the cart and pretend to look at the aisles full of shit that no one really needs, but I don’t miss Gunner’s grateful nod or the way that he presses so close to her that his dick is no doubt rubbing all over her ass.

Lucky fucker.

I nod back, then pull out my own list of supplies the guys always seem to leave off the grocery list. It’s like I write that shit in invisible ink that only I can see or something. As we go up and down the aisles, I notice the looks Rue draws. It doesn’t matter if they are men or women, everyone does a double take when they catch sight of her.

Gunner notices too and scowls at the fuckers who try to get too close, marking his territory. I’m sure if it were allowed, he would piss on her too. It’s like others don’t see us until we run interference, which is weird, since Gunner is well over six feetand a mountain of muscle. I’m not invisible at just under six feet either, but I can understand the pull. Anyone within her orbit is drawn toward her.

Gunner hands Rue the shopping list, and she dutifully studies it like there will be a test later. She systematically points to the items on the shelves when we reach them. When Gunner moves to grab things off the top shelf, I skip closer to her back, then lean down and whisper into her ear. “What you might not know is that Gunner has a sweet tooth. He loves anything chocolate. He tries to deny himself, but I bet if you make him a cake, he wouldn’t be able to say no.”

Rue stiffened when I first approached, but she almost immediately relaxed when she saw it was me. She studies me for a moment, then glances at Gunner speculatively. “Will you help me make one?”

“Of course.” I smile, loving that she’s willing to get into some shenanigans with me, and I wink. “I’ll grab the ingredients.”

I swear I’m only gone for a few seconds, my arms full of things I think Rue would like to try, when I hear Gunner cursing. When I round the corner, I see Gunner standing behind Rue, while Rue scowls up at a manager or something, her hands on her hips, her foot practically tapping with impatience.

“Ma’am, you can’t go back there,” the manager says, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “Customers are not allowed behind the counter.”

The confrontation is drawing the attention of other customers. Gunner leans down and gently touches her arm. “Rue?—”

“No.” She shrugs off his touch, then stares up at him, her teal eyes so pale, they are almost white. “Trust me. We need to get back there.”

Gunner looks torn, then his features harden, and a menacing expression takes over his face when he looks up at the manager. “Move.”

I nearly snort when the manager looks ready to shit himself at the growly word, not that I blame him. I drop the items I’m holding in the nearest cart, ignoring it when the person curses, then I step toward the manager with a sharp smile. “Is there a problem?”

While the guy is distracted, Rue doesn’t hesitate to zip past.

She’s so fast that I barely see her move.

“Hey!” the manager yells, but I just push past him and follow Rue. “I’m going to call the cops!”

Knowing Gunner will buy us some time, I hurry to catch up with Rue. The rest of the employees in the back just stand out of her way, some even holding their hands up like she’s armed and threatening to rob them of their meat.

It’s only when she reaches a wall of metal freezers that she pulls up short. She tilts her head, like she’s listening for something. I do the same, only I don’t hear anything but the hum of the compressors. She moves from one freezer to the next, her hand hovering over the door latches until she gets to the last one.

“This one.” Without hesitation, she rips it open and steps into the chilly air. Huge hunks of beef wrapped in plastic hang from the ceiling with metal hooks. The temperature is so cold that mist swirls around us and my breath immediately fogs the air.

No matter how much I try to keep Rue in sight, she disappears in seconds. Panic immediately tightens my chest, and I shove the meat aside, nearly getting knocked on my ass when it swings back and hits me.

I only manage to take a few steps when Rue emerges from the swirling mist like some sort of apparition. In her arms is a small bundle, and my eyes widen in horror when I realize it’s a child.

I immediately step aside, rushing toward the door, then yell for Gunner. “Get an ambulance.”

A small crowd appears, including the scowling manager, who has a phone to his ear, when Rue steps out of the freezer. There are gasps when everyone spots the child in her arms. The kid’s eyes are closed, her lips are blue, and I’m not even sure she’s breathing.

“Oh, fuck,” Gunner curses, then he grabs the phone from the manager and begins barking orders into it. I take the kid from Rue and gently set her on the ground. Since I’m so accident prone, the guys and I have all taken first aid classes.

I look at the worthless manager and snarl, “Get some blankets or jackets. Anything warm we can use to cover her.”

In less than five minutes—the longest minutes of my life—the paramedics finally arrive. The crowd parts for them, and I gratefully step back. They take one look at the girl bundled in clothing and quickly pull out their insulated blankets. “Where are her parents?”

The store falls silent, and I clench my hands into fists, struggling to contain my rage. I glare at the crowd as if I could find the assholes that allowed their little girl to wander off, enjoying the reaction when people flinch away. Child abuse is a trigger of mine, and if it wasn’t for Rue’s calming presence, I’m not sure that I would be able to keep my shit together.

“How long was she in the freezer?” the lead paramedic asks harshly, not looking up as he begins putting warm saline bags wrapped in towels around the girl.

My mind goes blank, and I turn toward Rue. She’s staring down at the girl like she’s seen a ghost. She’s so pale, I’m worried she’ll keel over. I immediately go to her, then curse when herskin feels like ice. I wrap her in my arms, which seems to help only a little.

“Do you know how long she was in the freezer?” I ask softly, not wanting to startle her.

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