Rage and Ruin by Jennifer L. Armentrout Page 0,119

and walking, trying to put as much space between me and that damn little ball of warmth in my chest. My path was blissfully clear as I hit the intersection. I was never—

A horn blew, the sound deafening as my head whipped to the left. The car was right there, in my blind spot. Tires squealed as brakes pumped. It was too late. The car wouldn’t be able to stop in time.

Someone screamed, but it wasn’t me, because I was incapable of making sound. In those seconds that stretched into eternity, I knew this car was going to ram into me. It wouldn’t kill me, but it was most definitely going to hurt. Bones might even be broken, and God, wouldn’t time in a body cast just top today—

A band of steel circled my waist and pulled me back. I slammed into a hard, warm surface that smelled of winter. My feet left the ground as I was turned. Within a heartbeat I was staring at...

Staring at Zayne’s pale blue shirt, as the man in the car shouted and then peeled away, laying on his horn. I lifted my gaze, and furious pale eyes met mine.

“Are you out of your mind?”

I felt the words rumble out of him, because he had me all but plastered to his chest. I tried to lift my hands to push away, but my arms were clamped to my sides. I was stuck against him, and his body was throwing off heat like a furnace.

Crap.

“Trin—”

“Let me go.” I knew we had to be gaining an audience, considering we were in the middle of a sidewalk.

He glared down at me. “What were you doing?”

“I said let me go.” The next breath I took was like swallowing fire. “Now.”

Zayne drew in a deep breath, but he let go, sliding his arm away from me in a slow drag that infuriated and frustrated me for half a dozen different reasons.

I stepped back.

But I didn’t make it very far.

His hand shot out and wrapped around my wrist, his grip firm but far from painful. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Anywhere but where I am right now.”

Zayne’s laugh was harsh. “Oh, I don’t think so.”

Without another word, Zayne wheeled me back toward the ice cream shop as an older couple wearing matching windbreakers eyed us. Their heads were bent together as they sent nervous glances in our direction. They didn’t intervene. No one did. I guessed it was because it was rush hour in the nation’s capital and people just wanted to get home before dark.

Real concerned, helpful citizens right there.

I tugged on my hand. “Zayne—”

“Not yet,” he said, threading his fingers through mine. “Not here.”

The hand around mine was firm, and his long-legged pace was annoying to keep up with. I peeked over at him. “I do not understand why you’re the one with the attitude right now.”

“You don’t?” he demanded. “You know better than to walk across a street without checking. You could’ve been injured, Trin. And then what?”

I tried to pull my hand free again. No such luck. “But I wasn’t hurt, and look, I busted into your ice cream date. I didn’t—”

“Not yet,” he clipped out.

I started to frown. “But I—”

“Trinity, I’m serious. I don’t want to hear a single word from you right now.” He cut in front of me, nearly causing me to trip. I didn’t, because he righted me before I could topple over.

“But you asked me a question!” I pointed out. “Did you not want me to answer it?”

“Not really.”

Now I was really frowning as he pulled me into an alley I’d passed on the way to the ice cream shop. Zayne stopped by a fire escape, far from the packed sidewalk, and faced me. The light above us flickered, casting strange shadows over his face.

“You going to let me go now?” I demanded.

“I don’t know. Are you going to go play in traffic again?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s a favorite pastime of mine, so no promises.”

The look he gave me told me he wasn’t impressed. I drew in a shallow breath and started to try to tell him what happened, but he opened his mouth and beat me to it.

“You have so much explaining to do.” He stared down at me.

That was the wrong thing to say. “I have explaining to do? Me?”

“Are you not the person who just randomly popped up here and then ran off into the street?”

“You make it sound like I did all that on purpose, which I did