January in Atlantis, Alyssa Day [read any book txt] 📗

The man she’d wanted to jump just before Monkey walked in and destroyed any emotion but pure, screaming panic, strode into the small storage room and scanned it, immediately homing in on where she huddled in the corner on the floor, back to the wall. She was shaking so hard her teeth were clattering like the bones of a skeleton dancing in a dark wind.

Eva winced at the imagery, but didn’t wonder why her brain had envisioned it. She’d be dead before she ever saw another summer. Hell, it was only January.

She’d be dead before she saw spring.

Flynn crossed the room, and she flinched when he reached her. In spite of—or perhaps because of—her incredible, mind-blowing attraction to this man, she was terrified. What if he was part of it? A Dark Angel without the leathers? She’d heard the head guy, who called himself a Marquis of hell, wore suits and ties most of the time. Still, she was sick to death of being afraid. Sick of being hurt, being found, being caught.

Now here she was again, huddling on the floor of a crowded kitchen-supplies storeroom, breathing in the scents of overripe produce and despair. The cook, no fool, had headed out the back exit when he heard the fight start, so she was alone, contemplating bad choices.

Should she run too?

Noel would fire her ass in a hot minute, and she needed the money.

Was Scott with his trusty thug? Was it some weird, one-in-a-million coincidence that Monkey was even here?

Ha. Like she’d ever believe in coincidence again.

When would it ever end?

Flynn stopped a couple of feet away and stood there silently, looking down at her.

“I need another man looming over me like I need a hole in the head,” she snapped and then was amazed at her own defiance.

He knelt down, keeping a careful distance between them, but distances could be crossed and his dark eyes were black with rage. This close, his beauty was almost lethal and made her feel like the snake to his charmer, swaying helplessly in his thrall.

Monkey was out there.

The thought threw an icy sheet of terror over any charm Flynn was projecting.

He was out there. She’d seen him. Worse, she thought he’d seen her. Her gaze went helplessly to the door to the door leading to the bar.

“I’m sorry,” she managed, her voice only shaking a little. “I’m sorry I ran away from you like that. I had to get out of there.”

“Was it me?” His voice was so gentle that it might have helped her calm down if she could afford to be calm.

“No! Of course not. It was… it was someone I didn’t want to see.”

“Why are you so afraid?” Flynn’s voice was smoky sensuality with a hint of a growl beneath it. Eva had learned—oh, how she’d learned—to beware of growls.

“It’s nothing. I just… Nothing,” she muttered, clutching her knees more tightly to her chest.

Flynn’s eyes narrowed. “It is not nothing, and it’s not no one. Who is it? I’d be happy to kill him for you. I have some time to spare.”

“Just like that? You don’t even know me, but you’d be happy to kill someone for me.” She shook her head. “You’re just like them.”

His voice was soft and deadly when he answered. “I’m nothing like them.”

She put her head down on her knees. “Just go away.”

“It’s the man. The ugly man with the face like a rodent,” he ventured, startling a laugh out of her. It was only a small laugh though and quickly banished.

“You could probably take him,” he added gravely.

Eva sighed and hunched herself into an even smaller ball, pulling her knees into her body. Of course he didn’t understand. He was tall, dark, and dangerous—every inch of him screamed Badass. Men like him never had to be afraid of anything.

“You wouldn’t understand, and it’s none of your business anyway,” she whispered.

A trace of impatience crossed his face, but then he looked at her again—really looked at her—and concern replaced the impatience. He held out a hand.

“Let’s start again. My name is Flynn. I’m sorry I made a bad impression at the bar, but I’d like to get to know you.”

She didn’t take his hand. She knew it was rude, but she didn’t want to touch him. Even the most innocent touch could be taken the wrong way. Taken advantage of. Instead, she pushed her back farther into the corner between the wall and the shelving unit filled with canned goods, trying to make herself as small as possible.

Which was a metaphor, wasn’t it? Making herself as small as possible? Her entire life was small.

And she had no one to blame but herself.

A particularly loud crash sounded from the bar, and she flinched. The door to the storeroom slammed open, and Noel stormed in.

“There you are, you worthless bitch. What the hell are you doing hiding in here when you should be out there protecting my property?”

Great. Just what she needed. There came a point when no job was worth this kind of abuse. But before she could answer or tell him just where he could shove his job, Flynn stood in one smooth, graceful motion. He was at least eight or ten inches taller than Noel and pure muscle, unlike her slime ball boss, who was part beer belly and part forty years of sitting on his ass, telling other people to do his job for him.

“Who the hell are you?” Noel barked, pushing his shoulders back like he thought good posture could suddenly make him look tough and mean instead of like the blustering bully he was. "If you’re in here bothering my bartender, jerkoff, you better back off, because my cousin is the sheriff—”

Flynn took a step toward Noel, whose torrents of abuse came stuttering to a halt.

“Don’t think you can threaten me either,” Noel blustered, backing toward the door. “I’ll make sure they toss you in jail and throw away the key.”

Flynn glanced at Eva, and she was surprised to see amusement dancing in his gorgeous blue eyes. “Have you ever noticed how the truly vile people in life always speak in clichés? ‘Throw away the key’—really?” He turned his gaze back to Noel, but it no longer held any amusement. “I suggest you apologize to the lady.”

Noel’s mouth fell open. “The lady? Are you out of your mind? That’s no lady, that’s a—”

She’d probably never know what he’d been planning to call her though, because Flynn’s arm moved faster than she could see, and he punched Noel in the face. Her boss’s expression was almost comically surprised for a single heartbeat, and then he collapsed to the floor.

“Is that how you solve all your problems?” she asked wearily but then couldn’t believe her daring. The man had just knocked Noel out in one punch. Who was to say he wasn’t going to start on her next?

But even as she thought it, she knew—somehow she knew—that it wasn’t true. He held no sense of danger for her except to her equilibrium, judging by the astonishing way she’d reacted to him in the bar.

She’d honed her instincts to be very sharp over the past few years. Maybe she was kidding herself. Maybe she was a fool yet again. But she felt no threat from this man. In fact, she felt oddly appreciative of the way he’d taken care of Noel. She just didn’t think she could deal with her manager and his bullying on top of her terror over the fact that Monkey had shown up.

Where Monkey went, Scott—Snake—soon