Page 17 of Frozen Heart

I checked over my shoulder. The back room had a door with a lock, but they were too close, they’d grab us before we could get in there.

I looked at Jen, at the tears streaming down her cheeks. Maybe it didn’t have to be both of us.

I pulled out my box cutter, flicked out the blade and launched myself at the two men, slashing wildly. “Run!”I screamed at Jen. She stared at me in horror, then ran for the back room.

British guy dodged back, then got under one of my swings and punched me in the stomach. I doubled over, all the air knocked out of me, and he ripped the box cutter from my hand. Yoz stalked past us and tried the door to the back room, then kicked it, furious. “She’s locked herself in there!”

I wheezed for air, holding my stomach. At least Jen was safe.

British guy grabbed me by the throat and now I couldn’t breatheat all.“Looks like it’s both of us on you,” he told me.

I closed my eyes as he reached for the button of my jeans.

9

RADIMIR

I satlow in the big Mercedes, scowling at the world as I swept through the darkened streets.

In the week since I’d walked out of her store, I’d taken to driving myself home from work. It meant I didn’t have to explain to Valentin why I was taking a diversion to drive down one particular street.

I’d never go back in. Never contact her again. I’d come too close to something dangerous. But I allowed myself this one indulgence, speeding past the little glowing storefront every night so I could glimpse her. I knew it wasn’t healthy, but I couldn’t stop.

The line of stores before hers had grown familiar. A closed-down jewelers, a grocery store, the coffee shop and then?—

Control yourself, you idiot.I inhaled and gripped the steering wheel as I approached. I wouldn’t look. I’d keep my eyes on the road and that would be the end of it.

But as we passed, thatpullI felt to her was too much. My eyes flicked to the side, just for an instant.

That glimpse of long red hair, as expected. But there were two people who shouldn’t be there. I recognized the brownleather coat and the bleached blond hair instantly. Doyle and Yoz.

And Doyle had his hand around Bronwyn’s throat.

I buried the brake pedal in the carpet. The wheels locked up and painted thick black lines of rubber along the street and I came to a screeching stop. A taxi that had been behind me had to slam on its brakes too and stopped an inch from my rear bumper.

I threw open the door and stalked toward the bookstore. The taxi driver leapt out to yell at me, then got a look at my face and backed away.

Something had taken hold of me. It had me in its grip and it was squeezing tighter and tighter. I reached the bookstore and kicked the door so hard it flew back on its hinges and cracked its glass.

Doyle looked over his shoulder, annoyed. Then he recognized me, and all the blood drained from his face.

I marched towards the counter. Books were scattered everywhere, some of them burned and ruined, and the floor was soaked. This place that had felt so alien and strange a month ago had become special to me because it was hers. And they’d destroyed it.

The anger was part of me, now, heating my skin, pouring through my veins, making my muscles swell. I was dimly aware of Yoz running towards me, but my eyes were on Doyle. He still had Bronwyn by the throat.

Yoz punched me hard in the face and my head snapped to the side, but I didn’t feel any pain. I looked at him dumbly and he got in two hits on my ribs before I finally focused on him.

When he punched me again, I grabbed his wrist and twisted, pulling his arm up behind him until I heard a bone snap. Then I grabbed a handful of his hair and rammed his head into the edge of a table.

As he fell, I started moving towards Bronwyn again. Now I could see that the front of her jeans were open, and the anger changed, becoming a crimson drumbeat that shook my entire body.

He was dead now. They both were.

Doyle must have seen the possessive fury in my eyes because his gaze suddenly went to Bronwyn, and he released her throat like it had burned him. I saw his legs go rubbery as he realized the scale of his mistake. “I didn’t?—”

I punched him in the jaw with the full force of my anger, sending him flying backwards. He crashed to the floor and I was on him before he could move, driving my fists into his face, left then right. Again. And again. And again. I only stopped because I didn’t want him to die. I needed him to suffer.

I wiped my hands on his shirt and stood up, then walked back to Bronwyn. She’d fastened her jeans and was leaning against the counter for support. Her chest was heaving, her body trying to cry but her mind still too panicked to allow it. “Jen. Jen is in the back room,” she told me between breaths. “They wouldn’t leave. I said I’d pay. They didn’t stop?—”