Bernice sniffs. “You return your library books on time.”
“…What?”
“No truly dangerous man respects due dates that much,” Ethel explains.
Hank snorts loudly.
Before I can process whatever the hell that logic is, Bernice’s expression suddenly shifts.
“Oh dear.”
Every muscle in my body tightens instantly.
“What?”
The women exchange another look.
“That man who walked into London’s building earlier,” Ethel says carefully. “She didn’t seem happy to see him.”
Ice floods straight through my chest.
“What man?”
“The tall blond one,” Bernice says. “Fancy coat. Mean eyes.”
The description they’re giving forms a picture in my head. A picture London showed me yesterday when she was telling me more about her past.
Caleb.
Fucking hell. My pulse kicks hard enough to hurt.
“When?” I ask sharply.
“About twenty minutes ago.”
I’m already moving before she finishes speaking.
“Troy—” Hank calls.
But I’m gone.
Snow crunches beneath my boots as I cross town fast enough to make people stare. My heartbeat pounds harder with every step while a dozen ugly possibilities fight through my head at once.
Did he touch her? Did he corner her?
Will he make her cry?
He better fucking not have made her cry. Or those rumors about me being a criminal might become a reality.
The protective fury rising inside me feels sharp enough to choke on.
By the time I reach the library, I’m half a second from kicking the damn door in.
Then I hear London’s voice.
Clear. Steady. Strong as hell.
“I wasn’t hiding from you, Caleb.”