Page 133 of Tattered (Lark Cove 1)

“Sorry about that.” He reached behind him and pulled the door closed. When he turned the deadbolt, every muscle in my body tensed.

Nothing about this situation was right. Nothing about Ronny was right. Whoever this was, it wasn’t the sweetheart who came into the bar almost every weeknight and occasionally on Sundays to keep me company. This wasn’t the quiet, polite and shy Ronny I knew.

His movements were aggressive, stiff and hard. His normally slouched shoulders were pulled back like he was preparing for a fight. And his jaw was clenched and angry.

Every hair on my body stood on end, affirming with their prickles what my gut was screaming. This is not right.

Ronny’s gaze ran

up and down my body, hovering too long on my chest. His eyes were narrowed with a predatory stare. He was the cat. I was the stupid mouse who’d gone for a walk in her safe, small, trust-everyone town.

“I, um . . .” I swallowed the fear clogging my throat. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here for you.” He said it like I should have known it already. Like the next word out of his mouth was going to be duh.

I needed to get the hell out of here, but Ronny held his position by the door.

Stay calm, Thea. Don’t panic.

“Well, I’d better get going.” I plastered on a wide smile as I shuffled down the cabinets. “Hazel’s probably wondering where I went.”

“You’re not going anywhere.” Ronny shook his head. “Not until we talk.”

With Ronny standing by the door, I didn’t have any choice but to go past him to get out. The buttons for the garage doors were right next to the light switches too, so I couldn’t escape through one of the bays.

Relying on years of dealing with creeps and jerks at the bar, I dropped my shoulders away from my ears, hoping he’d take it as a sign I was relaxing. “Sure. I’d love to talk. But would you mind if we went outside? The paint fumes are getting to me.”

He frowned. “Do you think I’m stupid?”

“Of course not! You’re the best, Ronny. My favorite customer.” I was laying it on thick, but I didn’t care. I had no idea what Ronny’s intentions were, but I was sure they were nothing wholesome or friendly. And I had a little girl waiting for me at home. She needed her mother to stay in one piece.

“You have—”

My phone rang in my pocket. I reached for it but stopped when Ronny took three fast steps my way.

“Don’t,” he barked. He held me captive with his angry glare until the phone finally stopped ringing. “You aren’t going to ignore me this time. Now that you’re back, we’re going to have a long overdue discussion.”

Ignore him? When had I ignored him? “Ronny, I don’t understand. What’s going on?”

My phone rang again, stopping him before he could explain. His nostrils flared as his face turned red.

I went for my pocket again. “Let me just put it on silent.”

“I said don’t touch it!” His roar filled every inch of the garage.

I flinched hard, nodding as I whispered, “Okay.”

Ronny’s entire body was shaking with fury. His hands were balled by his sides. The red from his face seeped across his fair skin, coating his neck, staining his ears and tingeing his arms. He had light-brown hair buzzed short, and even his scalp was turning crimson.

What was happening? Who was this man? Because he sure as shit wasn’t the regular at my bar who I’d known for years.

My body was shaking from head to toe and I sucked in a hitched breath. Then I balled my own fists, fighting the panic away. “Ronny,” I said quietly, “I don’t know what I did to make you so upset, but I’m sorry. Let’s talk about this. We’re friends, right?”

His face was still red, but his hands relaxed. “Friends? We’re more than friends. We’re meant to be together. I knew it when I saw that drawing you did of me last year. I knew you thought about me as much as I thought about you.”

My head spun as I thought about all the drawings I’d done of Ronny. There had to be at least twenty in all of my notebooks. Not because he had a particularly interesting face or anything, but because he was just . . . there. I’d drawn all of the regulars that many times because some nights, they’d been the only ones around.

“I’m so sorry,” I lied, scrambling for anything to say to calm Ronny down. “I didn’t mean to lead you on. I draw everyone. It’s just a hobby. I didn’t know you had feel—”