Fighting for Us - Bella Emy Page 0,27
her oldest brother’s twins. They live out in California.
“Anyway, don’t think I forgot. I still think we need to analyze your feelings for Guns right now.”
Fuck, I thought I was safe. “Oh, no, we don’t.”
She smirks at me. “Oh, yes, we do. Don’t make me call Shannon to stop by after work so we can torture you.”
I frown. “Please don’t.”
She laughs. “Okay, fine. But we’re going to be talking about this soon. If not now, tomorrow. You hear me?”
I nod.
“No. Do you hear me?” She places a hand behind her ear, acting like it will help her hear me.
I want to roll my eyes, but instead of prolonging the inevitable, I look up at the ceiling and say, “Yes, I hear you, Ms. Emerson.”
A smile spreads on her face. “That’s better. Now help me finish wrapping these last couple of gifts.”
After leaving Emy’s, I pull up to the convenience store a few blocks from my house to pick up some bacon, eggs, and pancake mix for tomorrow morning. Every Tuesday morning, Shannon stops by and we usually have breakfast together. We both have the day off.
Yeah, we see each other all the time, including the time we spend with Emy together. But breakfast on Tuesdays at my place has been an ongoing tradition for as long as I can remember. It’s a sister-sister type thing. It’s one thing I’m never going to give up.
I reach the front entrance of the store, and thankfully, they’re still open. I’ve made it just in time with twenty minutes to spare. I need to be in and out. It shouldn’t be a problem. It’s a small store with only the bare necessities.
Making my way through the empty store, save for the manager behind the register, I pick up the items I need for tomorrow morning. I place the eggs, pancake mix, and bacon onto the counter and wait for the man to ring me up.
“Good evening, miss. Find everything you need all right?”
I smile at him, recognizing him from the other times I’ve been here. He’s probably in his mid-sixties with salt-and-pepper hair. He’s always very nice and well-mannered. Even though I come here quite often because it’s close to my house, we never converse much besides small talk. “Yes, thank you.”
“Twenty-three fifty-six,” he responds.
I hand over two Jacksons and wait for my change. Once he gives it to me, I grab my groceries from the counter. “Thanks so much. Have a good night.”
“You too, miss.”
I walk out of the store and toward my car. It’s a pretty quiet evening. A star-filled sky illuminates the area, and a shimmering crescent moon hangs overhead. A chilly breeze whooshes through the trees. It feels as though we’re going to be hit with our first snowstorm of the year. I wouldn’t mind it on Christmas Day, but any other time, it’s a no from me. I’m not fond of the fluffy white stuff.
I finally reach my car and unlock it, and as I pull open the door, I almost drop the bag to the ground.
“It’s so nice to see you again, Carissa babe.”
A gasp escapes my throat as I spin around and am greeted by the last person on Earth I want to see right now.
“Steve… You scared me.”
He smirks and walks closer to me. He looks trashed. Shit.
“My apologies, babe. I’ve been waiting almost ten minutes for you to come out of the store… I guess I’m just excited to see you again.”
I furrow my brows, cocking my head to the side. “You’ve been watching me?”
He shakes his head and makes a tsking sound. “Waiting. I was waiting.” He takes more steps forward, surprising me with his speedy movements, and pins me against the car. The groceries now fall to the ground. There go the eggs.
“Steve… the groceries. What are you doing?”
He brushes a finger underneath my chin and breathes heavily. His breath is warm and smells of booze. I knew it. He is trashed. He’s definitely been drinking again.
“Oh, Carissa babe. I’ve been thinking about you and our little… drama act, shall we call it, the other night.” His hands reach out to grab mine and places them on either side of my head.
He pushes up against me, and I feel his hard-on through his pants. Ugh. I don’t want to be anywhere near him right now. I fight to lift my arms and push him away, but I can’t. Even wasted, he’s still stronger than me.
“Let me go, Steve. Please,” I beg.
His grin turns