Inevitable - Kristen Granata Page 0,4

babysitter—I might as well act the part.

“Where are you going?” Dad pushes to his feet.

“What does it matter? I’ve got Thor here to watch over me now. I’ll be safe and fucking sound.” I don’t wait for him to respond as I spin around and barrel through the doorway.

Heavy footsteps clunk behind me in the hall.

I stop.

He stops.

I walk.

He walks.

I turn the corner.

He turns the corner.

I speed up.

He speeds up.

This is irritating me already.

I make an abrupt about-face and slam into the body guard’s steel chest. “Do you have to walk so close to me?”

“That’s kind of how my job works.” His voice is deep, matching his burly size.

“Well, it’s obnoxious.”

He pops an unapologetic shoulder.

I prop my hands on my hips. “Look, you can go back to wherever it is you came from. You’re not needed here.”

“I only take orders from your father.”

“And I don’t. I’m a smart, capable girl, and I can take care of myself.”

“If you’re so smart, then why’d you drive down a dark alley and try to confront the thugs who were following you?”

I lift my chin, ignoring the fact that he’s right. “I had a bad night and I made a dumb decision. It won’t happen again.”

“Lucky for you, I’ll be right by your side to make sure of that.”

Lucky. Ha!

Another growl makes its way up my throat.

His thick lips twitch. “I’m starting to understand why you got that lion tattoo on your shoulder there.”

“Oh, you haven’t even begun to understand me, Big Guy.” I step into his space and poke his chest with each word. “Now back. The fuck. Off.”

My hair whips around my shoulders as I turn and storm toward the elevator. When I step inside, I expect him to follow me, but he doesn’t. He just stands there like a statue with that stoic expression on his ruggedly handsome face.

Did I say ruggedly handsome?

I meant annoying. Who wears sunglasses indoors?

When I reach the lobby, he’s nowhere in sight. I slip my arms into my jacket sleeves with a smug smile and push through the revolving door, inhaling a lungful of New York air.

It smells like hot garbage, but still. This is my city. My home.

Was getting kidnapped the single most terrifying moment in my life? Yes. But I refuse to let that stop me.

I won’t let fear control me.

I force myself to walk the few blocks to Starbucks, clutching my pepper spray in my palm, ignoring the drumline in my chest. The muscles in my body tense each time someone gets too close—which happens literally every step of the way. New Yorkers don’t know the meaning of personal space. With over 1.6 billion people crammed onto an island that’s only 13.4 miles long, we’re bumbling into each other like mass-produced cattle.

Only when I step inside the coffee shop do my shoulders lower and my breaths come easier. My best friend Deanna waves as I approach our usual table by the window, but her smile vanishes when her pale-blue eyes drop to the obvious purple splotch on my cheek.

“What the hell happened to you?”

I plop into the chair across from her. “I’m fine.”

She leans forward, her blond curls bouncing around her shoulders. “You have a giant bruise on your face.”

“I got jumped the other night. No big deal.”

Her eyebrows hit her hairline. “No big deal? Eva, what happened?”

I sigh, raking a hand through my hair. “Two dudes in a van tried to follow me home after I left you with Will at the bar. So, I drove down by the construction site and asked them why they were following me.”

“Why would you do that? Are you crazy?” Her hand flies up, palm facing me. “Never mind. Don’t answer that. I already know the answer.”

I stick my tongue out at her like a brat. “Anyway, they hopped out of the creeper van wearing ski masks and I tried to fight them off. One held me back while the other knocked me out cold, hence the bruise.”

I rub my wrist under the table, still able to feel the unforgiving plastic ties that bound my limbs together. “Then they dumped me on the sidewalk near my building.”

Deanna’s hand clamps over her mouth.

I shrug and take a sip of the latte she ordered for me before I arrived, skipping over the part of the story when Dad insisted his doctor examine me using a rape kit. I just want to be thorough, he’d said. Little does he know, a rape kit is almost as invasive and humiliating