Page 58 of My Cosplay Escape
The big boy speaks. “Dude. We were just—”
Adam exudes alpha male, which in its own way is terrifying. He’s never exuded alpha male around me before. Confidence, yes. But this dangerous, testosterone-drenched alpha standing next to me is no one I’ve seen before. Adam takes me firmly by the elbow and pulls me away from the drunk boys. They let me go. “Pick up the lady’s phone,” he says to them.
“Hey, man. We were all just having some fun.” Shorty reaches to pet me. “Weren’t we, kitty, kitty?”
I shudder as his fingers dig under my chin.
Adam steps in front of me protectively. “The hell you were. Pick up the phone.”
“Come on,” the drunkest of them says. “We’d let you watch.”
Adam bares his teeth, and then his fist is in the jerk’s face. My boot falls on the big one’s foot, and my elbow is in his stomach. He doubles over. Shorty attempts to run, but Adam catches him by the neck of his shirt.
“Dude. Are you crazy?” the frat boy gasps. His buddies have already recovered somewhat and are stumbling away.
Adam grabs the idiot, hauling him up by the shirt. “I see you or any of your friends anywhere close to around here, there will be trouble. Do you want more trouble?”
“No.”
“No,” Adam agrees. His phone flashes bright as he takes a picture of Shorty’s face. “Apologize to my friend.”
“Sorry,” he slurs. “Really, really sorry.”
“Run.”
And I have the satisfaction of seeing the last of my would-be assailants disappear.
Adam shakes out his right fist and squeezes it a few times.
“Thanks,” I say, turning. The gym, my shower, and a good hard run on my favorite treadmill are less than five minutes away. I’ll just stay at the gym until the sun comes up.
“Where are you going?” Adam says, his voice still edged with anger.
Shirley Temples. Adam is seething, and my mouth parts in disbelief. Adam is mad… at me.
He shoves my phone into my hand. The screen still has just the one crack. Thank fudge, because I have zero funds to replace it. “Get in the car, Sabine.”
My shoulders tense, and I have to force them down. “Fine. I don’t feel like walking just now anyway.”
“What the hell were you thinking?” he shouts when we’re both in the car, speeding down the alley.
“I go out the back door every night.”
“You’re lucky I answered my phone. Luckier still that I stayed on long enough to realize you were in trouble.”
“I—”
But Adam doesn’t give me a chance to speak. “What do you think would have happened to you if I hadn’t?” he snaps.
He swerves, and I slam into the passenger door. “Can you watch the road?”
“You can’t leave out the back anymore. You can’t arrive or leave in costume again.”
“The hell I can’t. We have an agreement.”
“Yeah, that was before your safety became a concern.”
“If I can’t come in character, I can’t work.”
