Page 105 of Ice Me Out
The fact that I don’t think that Keene was my mysterious kiss doesn’t mean that he isn’t trying to scare me now. My secret kiss and this masked man might not be the same person.
And come to think of it, Keene came right into the house the other night, when I thought I saw the reflection of a masked man in the window.
Fury makes me see red and I shove.
The guy in the mask is caught by surprise and stumbles. I lunge to grab his mask, but he’s quicker and stronger than me. He slams me back against the wall before turning on his heels and running.
Maybe I’m crazy, or my sense of self-preservation is seriously broken, but I take chase.
I’m pissed off and right now I’m out for blood. My entire life, men have been trying to control me, to own me. I’ve realized how much I have been living in fear in my father’s house only when I finally managed to break free. Even before he turned his agency into a legit cult, Luke and I were never free to be ourselves. We hid from his judgment. We were terrified of his fury.
No more.
I’d rather die than let a man control me again. If Keene thinks that he’s gonna scare me into leaving, he isn’t as smart as he thinks he is.
I run out of the art center like a fury from hell. The night is dark and the campus is quiet.
I stop in front of the building for a second, looking left and right in the empty parking lot. There isn’t one soul out here except me and my stalker. If Fiona and her boyfriend were waiting to give me a ride, they must have decided to go home without me.
“Where did you go, asshole?” I scream.
Maybe I’ve really lost it. I should be happy that he’s nowhere in sight, not chasing his ass.
I spot a movement out of the corner of my eye on the left side of the building. It’s just for a second and it’s gone in the blink of an eye. But I take off in that direction.
“Oof.” The wind is knocked out of me as I round the corner into a brick wall.
I lose my balance, but rather than falling, strong hands keep me upright.
Ice-blue eyes bore into me. “Bex, where are you going?”
Chapter25
Trust Issues
Keene
People think I’m jaded when I say that women are crazy.
But I beg to differ.
“Motherfucker!” Bex screams, shrugging out of my hold and pounding her closed fists against my chest. “You asshole! You fucking piece of shit!”
I rear back for a second, more surprised by her fury than hurt by her fists. Not to sound like an arrogant prick—even though I’ve been told that’s how I come across to people I just met—but our difference in size and strength is such that Bex’s fists are more annoying than painful.
“Whoa, whoa.” I grab her again. “What the fuck has gotten into you? I know you’re not a fan of me and, believe me, it’s mutual, but is that how you thank someone who came to walk you home?”
That stops her in her tracks, and she looks at me, clearly surprised.
Her green eyes are wide and her chest is still heaving from the exertion of running and using me like her own personal punching bag.
Bex is still in the form fitting, black cocktail dress she wore at the art center inauguration. But her makeup is ruined by her mascara streaking at the corner of her eyes, and her blonde hair looks disheveled.
We don’t like each other and I shouldn’t touch her, but I can’t help but wipe some of that mascara off the corner of her eye with the pad of my thumb.
That must surprise her because her breath hitches in her throat, and she swallows.
It seems that one touch led to another and I can’t stop myself from tucking a strand of silky blonde hair behind her ear.
