Page 37 of A Mate For Matrix
“Where’s your friends, Jana? Or have they left?” he asked, his voice low and full of the same smug superiority he always wore when he came to collect the rent.
Jana pursed her lips, her disbelief turning to rage. Her fists tightened around the toothpaste boxes, crushing one side. It would be so satisfying to thwack him upside the head with them that she was surprised that she didn’t. Instead, she dropped them into her handheld green basket and stepped to the side as far as she could without touching him.
“What the hell is wrong with you? I always knew you were a dirty old man, but at least you used to hide it while your wife was alive,” she snapped, her voice low and dangerous. “Stay away from me.”
She tried to breathe through her fury. She wasn’t going to lose it here—not in the middle of Mayo’s Market, with sleepy jazz playing on the store speakers and someone’s baby fussing two aisles over.
That was her mistake—trying to ignore him.
His hand shot out and gripped her upper arm—tight. Hard enough to hurt. Bruises were already blooming beneath his grip.
Great! A reminder of what an asshole he is on my way out of the star system!
“Where are they?” he snarled.
“I said, let go of me,” Jana said, her voice quiet and icy. “Now.”
She winced when his fingers dug in deeper, and his eyes gleamed with something dark and greedy. “I’m not letting you go anywhere until you tell me who that man back at your house was, where he really came from, and where he is now,” he hissed. “And the dog. What the hell was that thing? Don’t lie to me—I heard him talk. I saw its eyes light up like a metal monster. What are you harborin’, Jana?”
Her mind raced.
If he was recording this….
Jana’s expression shifted, her lips curving into a sugar-sweet smile. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Herman. I think you are imagining things.”
His eyes narrowed. “Don’t play dumb. That dog spoke. It told me to run. What kind of freak show are you wrapped up in?”
She leaned in, her smile razor-sharp. “You really should seek professional help, Herman. Maybe someone should call your kids—oh, right. None of them care if you live or die. Maybe you should take a dose of the same poison you fed that momma cat and do us all a favor.”
His eyes bulged. His mouth opened for a retort?—
For a second, Jana was afraid he was about to keel over. His face drained of color, turning an ashen gray-white. She winced when he released her as if burned.
She blinked, confused, until she turned and saw why. Her lips curved into a bright, relieved smile.
Matrix.
He stood at the end of the aisle like something carved from storm clouds and steel.
Still. Silent. Unblinking.
The store’s fluorescent lights gleamed off the lenses of his sunglasses, but the fury radiating from his body was unmistakable. He hadn’t raised a hand, but his presence alone was a threat. A promise.
You touched what is mine.
Jana swallowed and walked—on unsteady legs—toward him.
Matrix didn’t move, didn’t speak, but the moment she reached his side, he slid one arm around her waist, anchoring her. His body was a furnace, his touch a claim.
Behind them, Herman stumbled backward like he’d seen death itself.
His heel caught the edge of a wire basket filled with travel-sized toiletries. Shampoo, floss, razors—everything flew.
He windmilled and shouted, then crashed to the floor, sending toothpaste tubes bouncing across the tiles and knocking over a freestanding rack of sunscreen.
A nearby clerk rounded the corner and gasped.
“Sir? Are you?—”
