Page 79 of Forced Proximity

Fierce hands grip my shoulders and toss me to the side. My chest smacks the SUV tailgate with a hard thud. Justin pins me against the vehicle with his back, so tight, I can barely breathe. ‘What the fuck?’ I sputter, blinking into the hatch.

‘You. You … did this …’ a shaky voice sounds from a few feet away.

Threat.

I duck under Justin’s protective hold, sidestep him, and move my body in front of his. ‘Stay behind me,’ I order, staring at the man advancing toward us.

‘Lexi don’t—’

‘Justin, no.’ Right now, I cannot have his heroics. I need to evaluate and neutralize the threat.

The shirtless man has fire in his eyes and a baseball bat in his hand. His wild, unkempt white hair reflects under the parking lot lights, the soil on his clothes visible in the dark. His trembling hands reach into his other pocket.

In one swoop, I push my body into Justin, confirm I’m blocking him from harm, grab my firearm from my holster and aim. The man’s pocket is flat, tight against his leg. He can’t be carrying a firearm, not even a .22, but that doesn’t mean he won’t have something strapped to his back waistband.

‘Lexi,’ Justin’s voice whispers behind me.

‘Not another word,’ I say, keeping my focus on the man. My heartbeat slows, a steady thump, thump, thump, in my ears. ‘Do not come any closer.’ I firm my posture. ‘Remove your hand from your pocket and drop the bat.’

The man stops, his mouth angling down. He drops the bat but doesn’t take his hand from his pocket. His legs wobble, and even from the ten-foot distance, the smell of whiskey discharges from his body.

‘It’s people like you … The money. The fucking corporate, Hollywood greed.’ He hisses, looking at Justin. ‘You’re the lowest form of society. Parasitic, toxic.’

A car door opens. ‘Doc?’ The driver’s voice sounds behind me.

I don’t remove my eyes from the threat. ‘Mike. Call 911.’ Justin’s breath staggers heavy behind me but thank God he remains silent. ‘Justin, get in the car.’

‘No,’ he says, flatly. ‘No fucking way am I leaving you.’

God dammit.

The man pierces his eyes in Justin’s direction, as a small group of onlookers with cell phones pointed our way watch in the distance.

‘Let me see your hands.’ I grip my gun, and shift into a shooting stance. Everything slows. My breath. My pulse. My eyes narrow at the bulging vein in the man’s neck and the prickle of sweat at his temples.

‘You people don’t care about anyone,’ he slurs. ‘You’ve turned this town into shit … everything is poison. All you care about is money. You destroy the land … spit people out to live on the streets.’

‘Take your hand out of your pocket,’ I repeat, holding the calm but authoritative tone in my voice. ‘Step back.’

The man shifts his glare from Justin to me. A sinister smirk spreads when he removes his hand. I evaluate every micro-action: the slight shifts of his mouth, his toes moving in his shoes, his tongue sliding up and down against his inner cheek. He appears more agitated than violent, as he remains standing and doesn’t move into a fighting stance. Finally, his arms go slack, and he steps back.

My core locks. ‘Lower yourself to the ground, on your stomach, hands behind your head.’ The man moves his eyes between mine, squints, almost like he’s taunting, before he cooperates.

In a few seconds, I remove zip ties from my pocket and cuff him. Thirty seconds later, sirens scream in the distance.

Five minutes later, reality seizes me, and I feel sick.

Chapter 36

Justin

It’s not until close to eleven that I finally return home with a silent Lexi stomping behind me. ‘Jesus, what a day.’ I sift through the grocery bags and toss the ice cream that melted after sitting in the car for two hours while police interviewed everyone and arrested the guy outside of the store.

I put the canvas bags in the pantry and peek at a quiet, stone-faced Lexi who slaps her finger on her glucose monitor. She’s notoriously hard to read, but this one is pretty obvious. She is pissed. ‘Are you okay?’

‘No, I’m not fucking okay,’ she snaps, pulling her lips into a tight, angry line. She marches over to the fruit bowl, grabs a banana and sits at the stool with her nostrils flaring. ‘What happened tonight can never, ever happen again. Do you hear me?’ She yanks the peel from the banana. ‘You pushing me out of the way. Standing in front of me. Blocking me. What the hell were you thinking?’

I lean against the counter. What was I thinking? I wasn’t thinking. I acted. And I’d do it a million times over. ‘I thought he was going to hurt you. He came out of nowhere.’