Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 46078 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46078 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
We head to the little diner again today, the one we visited the other day. It feels like a small slice of normalcy in the midst of everything else, and I like the idea of sharing pancakes with Ranger again, just the two of us.
The sun is bright as we walk along the boardwalk, the salty breeze tugging at my hair. Ranger keeps pace beside me, his hand brushing against mine occasionally. Every time it happens, my heart skips a little.
When we step inside the diner, the familiar jingling bell above the door greets us, and Linda waves from behind the counter. I smile, feeling a sense of ease settle over me.
But then I see them.
The same group of guys from the other day, sitting at a booth near the back. They’re loud and obnoxious, just like before, and as soon as we walk in, their attention snaps to me.
My stomach twists uncomfortably, and I instinctively move closer to Ranger. He notices immediately, his eyes narrowing as he follows my gaze.
“It’s them,” I whisper, my voice barely audible.
Ranger’s jaw tightens, and his posture shifts, becoming more rigid, more alert. “Don’t worry,” he says softly, his voice low and steady. “I’ve got you.”
We sit at a booth near the front, far from where the guys are, but I can feel their eyes on me. It’s like a weight pressing against my back, making it hard to relax.
“They’re staring,” I say, keeping my gaze fixed on the menu in front of me.
Ranger doesn’t even look over at them. “Let them stare,” he replies calmly, his tone laced with something that sends a shiver down my spine.
Linda comes over to take our order, and I manage to smile and thank her, but my appetite is gone. Ranger notices, of course—he notices everything—and his hand brushes against mine under the table, a silent reminder that he’s here.
We eat quickly, and when we leave, I’m relieved to step back into the open air. The breeze feels cooler now, refreshing against my skin.
But my relief is short-lived.
As we walk along the path back to the safe house, I glance over my shoulder and freeze. The guys are following us.
“Ranger,” I whisper, my voice tight with panic.
“I know they’re there,” he says, always aware. He looks bigger somehow, more imposing, like a man who’s ready for a fight.
“I wish they’d leave us alone.”
“Stay close to me,” Ranger says firmly, his hand brushing against my back as he positions himself slightly behind me.
We keep walking, but the guys don’t stop. They keep a few paces behind us, laughing and talking loudly, their presence impossible to ignore. My heart pounds, the fear creeping up my spine like icy fingers.
Finally, Ranger stops and turns to face them, his body a wall of calm, controlled strength. “Is there a reason you’re following us?” he asks, his voice low and steady, but there’s an edge to it that sends chills through me.
The guys hesitate, their bravado faltering under Ranger’s glare. Tank Top, the loudest of the group, steps forward, his hands raised defensively. “Hey, man, we’re just walking. No harm, no foul.”
“You’ve been staring at her since we walked into the diner,” Ranger says, his tone sharper now. “And now you’re following us. That doesn’t look like ‘just walking’ to me.”
Tank Top glances back at his friends, clearly unsure of what to do. “We weren’t gonna do anything, all right? Just messing around.”
“Don’t,” Ranger says, his voice dropping to a dangerous level. “Don’t mess with her. Don’t follow her. Don’t even look at her again.”
The air is thick with tension, and for a moment, I think Tank Top might say something stupid. But then Ranger takes a small step forward, and his sheer presence alone seems to be enough.
“Got it,” Tank Top mutters, backing up quickly. “We’re leaving.”
The group stumbles away, their earlier arrogance replaced with nervous energy. I let out a shaky breath, my heart still pounding as Ranger snaps a picture of them with his phone. He turns back to me.
“You okay?” he asks, his dark eyes scanning my face.
I nod, my voice caught in my throat.
“Good,” he says, his voice softening. “Let’s get you home.”
We walk the rest of the way in silence, his hand resting lightly on my back the entire time. When we step inside the safe house, I finally let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
Ranger turns to face me, his expression serious but calm. “You don’t have to be scared, Tory. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“I know,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “But it’s still scary.”
He steps closer, his hands resting gently on my shoulders. “Listen to me,” he says, his dark eyes locking onto mine. “I will always keep you safe. Always.”
His words are a promise, and for the first time since the diner, I feel the tension in my chest begin to ease. I trust him. Completely.