Chapter Eleven #3
Rawley’s phone buzzed with Skylar’s message.
His stomach dropped as he read it. He snatched his hat from the hook, heart hammering as he bolted for the exit.
Killian’s voice echoed behind him, but adrenaline carried him down three flights of stairs, his boots thundering against each metal step.
Outside, the autumn air hit his face as he vaulted over the cracked cement steps and dodged between honking cars.
The brass bell above the bookstore door jangled as he stepped inside, the scent of paper and coffee hitting his nose.
Skylar sat behind the table, her knuckles white against the polished wood.
Her blue eyes flicked meaningfully to his right.
The five men lounged against a row of shelves.
The leader smirked at Rawley. The bell chimed again as Killian’s frame filled the doorway.
“Is that them?” Killian’s voice was a low rumble.
“Yep.”
“You’re right. They’re trouble.”
Rawley crossed his arms over his chest, the muscles in his forearms tensing as Killian approached the group, shoulders squared beneath his Kevlar vest.
“You guys here to buy some books?” Killian’s voice carried across the suddenly quiet store.
“What’s it to you?” The man’s eyes narrowed to slits.
“Because if you’re not, you’re loitering and we’ll have to ask you to leave. Now, if you’re here to buy a book, how about you do that, then get the fuck out,” Killian snapped, towering over the man.
The leader’s laugh was as cold as winter. “We just wanted to see the author.”
Rawley moved forward, boots silent on the hardwood floor. “You saw her, now go.”
The man’s eyes lingered on Skylar, then he jerked his head at his crew. He stepped forward, close enough that Rawley could smell cigarettes lingering around the man.
“She sure makes you want to take a longer look,” he said, lips curling into a smile that never reached his eyes, then slithered out the door with his buddies following him.
Rawley looked at Killian, to see his jaw tight with tension. “Thanks for following me.”
“I knew something was up but didn’t want you to go alone. I just happened to catch you going in here.” Killian’s voice was low, his eyes darting around the crowded lobby.
“I appreciate it. I need to talk to Skylar.”
“Alright. I’ll see you back at the office.” Killian squeezed his shoulder once before heading out the door.
Rawley nodded, then navigated around the people standing in line, their faces blurring as he focused on Skylar.
He slipped behind the polished mahogany desk, removed his hat, and crouched down beside her trembling form.
When he touched her cold hand, she flinched before looking at him, her eyes wide with unmistakable terror.
“Are you alright, darlin’?” he whispered.
“No,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the murmur of the crowd. “They scare me, Rawley.”
“I know, baby, but I won’t let them do anything to you.” He brushed a strand of hair from her pale face.
“What if you hadn’t been close?” Her fingers clutched his desperately.
“But I was.” He held her gaze steadily.
“This time.” Her bottom lip quivered.
Rawley sighed, his breath warm against her cheek. “Call me no matter what. I’ll know what to do.” He squeezed her fingers. “No matter when, Skylar. I will get to you or send someone who can.”
She huffed out a breath and nodded. “Alright.”
“You did the right thing by texting me.”
“I didn’t think you were able to do anything.”
“As I said, if I can’t, I’ll find someone who can.” He got to his feet, put his hat on and looked at the line of people. “Looks like you got a good crowd.”
She smiled. “Yes, and they’re all wonderful.”
“Of course, they are. I’ll talk to you later.” He grinned, leaned down, kissed the top of her head, then after touching the brim of his hat, he strode from the store.
****
Skylar watched as he sauntered out the door, his broad shoulders disappearing into the golden afternoon light with those tight Wranglers hugging that perfect ass.
She glanced at the line of people, mostly women of all ages, who were craning their necks to catch one last glimpse of him.
When they all turned back to her, faces flushed with a mixture of envy and curiosity, she couldn’t help but laugh at their wide eyes and knowing smiles.
“Honey, no wonder you write bestsellers,” an older woman with a cloud of silver hair and tortoiseshell glasses perched on her nose said, fanning herself with her book. A chorus of murmured agreement rippled through.
Skylar shook her head, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she held her hand out for the woman’s book.
She signed it with a flourish and continued chatting with her readers even as a knot formed in her stomach.
She knew those men were still out there somewhere, and for the life of her, she couldn’t understand why they didn’t just leave her alone.
When her time ended, she stood, stretched her arms over her head and groaned when she heard her back cracking.
“It was fun,” Sydney said as she picked up the few books not sold.
“I had a great time.” Skylar looked at Sydney. “I’m so sorry for the disruption.”
“Don’t be. I’m glad Rawley got here quick and Killian following.”
“He’s very handsome.” Skylar smiled.
“He is. He’s married to my best friend, Celine.”
“Celine at The Everyday Grind?”
“Yes.”
“She is so nice. We introduced ourselves one day. I didn’t know her husband was a livestock agent.”
“Killian came here to work on a case and ended up staying. Those two are head over heels in love.”
Skylar sighed. “I’ll help you clean up, then head home.”
“No, you go ahead. We’ve got this. Go home and relax.”
“I’ll try, but I can’t get those men out of my head.”
“Make sure to check your mirrors on the way home.”
“I will. Rawley already told me what to do if I see them following me. Are you sure I can’t help out?”
“I’m positive. Let’s have lunch one day.”
“I’d love that.”
After giving Sydney a hug, she picked up her purse and walked out the door.
Skylar couldn’t believe how cold it had gotten. The fifties would feel good right now because it was forty and dropping. She was going to light a fire in the hearth and relax.