Menace (Scarlet Scars #1)(6)

Tingles creep along my skin, the hair on my arms prickling from a rush of adrenaline. I should’ve never left my house, should’ve never bothered with this meeting, should’ve never given those schmucks the time of day.

It’s pushing three o’clock in the morning now, the sky pitch black when I make my way outside, the snow coming down harder. I just want to get home and forget I was ever stupid enough to go along with this shit. I curse under my breath when I step out into the air. The cold slaps me in the face, nearly taking my breath away, as I yank the hood of my coat back up over my head to try to block some of the assault.

Grabbing my cell phone, I dial Seven’s number as I pace a section of sidewalk in front of the bar, my gaze out along the quiet street.

It rings once. Twice. Three times.

The door to the bar swings open just as Seven picks up. He greets me, but before I have a chance to say anything in response, something rams into me from behind. I stumble, nearly losing my footing, skidding on ice as the phone drops from my hand.

Shit.

It hits the sidewalk with a thud, landing in a patch of snow. I snatch it back up, cursing as I wipe it off on my pant leg. Anger rushes through me as I turn around, about to make some unfortunate *’s night something to remember, when a flash of red greets me.

The doe-eyed woman from inside.

The moment I lay eyes on her, she starts stammering. “I, uh, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking when I walked out, I didn’t see you…”

Flustered, she wraps her black coat around her tighter. It’s thin, not nearly warm enough to fend off cold of this caliber. Her red dress falls well above the knee, the only thing covering her legs a pair of black pantyhose. She’s petite, shorter than I imagined, barely eye-level wearing heels.

Shivering, she takes an immediate step back, putting a bit more distance between us as she clutches her coat closed defensively, like it’s her armor.

“It’s fine,” I say. “No harm done.”

She pauses for just a beat after I say that before turning to head down the street, scurrying away, like I scared the daylights out of her just by existing. Figures. She had more guts inside the bar. Guess she might be a Marilyn, after all, instead of an alleyway cocksucker.

Pity.

Sighing, I bring my phone back to my ear. “You still there, Seven?”

“Yeah, boss.”

“I’m ready to leave now.”

I end the call and slip my phone back away, grateful the thing still works. My hand lingers in my coat pocket, something off. It takes a second for it to strike me: the pocket’s empty. No wallet.

My gaze darts to the sidewalk, and I search all around my feet, figuring I dropped it, too, like the phone, but there’s nothing.

Nothing but snow, and ice, and battered concrete.

You’ve gotta be kidding me.

I pat myself down, looking like even more of an idiot, but I know better. I’m not going to find it. It’s not here. My gaze shifts down the street at where the woman hurries away from me. She turns her head, as if she can sense my attention, looking back at where I’m standing.

And just like that, it clicks.

She knocked into me, catching me off guard, distracting me for the moment...

She f*cking pickpocketed me.

Me.

I’m so damn stunned I almost don’t react. My brain, it just can’t seem to make sense of it. It’s doesn’t compute. How the hell did she pickpocket me? Me. It’s impossible. Unbelievable.

Nobody’s balls are that big.

But yet, there she goes, looking back again, hurrying her steps even more the moment I start to move. My brain is still far from catching up, but gut instinct kicks in, forcing my muscles to work. I head for her, breaking into a sprint, slipping and sliding all over the goddamn place but managing to stay on my feet. She keeps glancing back as she starts to run, nearing the end of the block, that wild hair all over the place, whipping into her face.

She’s fast; I’ll give her that. Even in heels, she manages to navigate the ice with ease. That might impress me if I weren’t so goddamn angry.

Pins and needles jab my face, the coldness stinging. I run as fast as my legs can carry me, closing the distance, each stride sending her more into a panic. As soon as she hits the corner, she kicks off her heels, sending them flying, and runs through the slush out in the street in her bare feet.

Jesus Christ, the woman is crazy.

She’s f*cking insane.

She has to be.

I dodge across the street, following, and catch up to her just as she rounds another corner. I’m close enough to snatch a hold of the back of her coat, fisting the material and yanking her to a stop so hard that she barely manages to stay upright. Before she can think to struggle, I swing her around and shove her back against a crumbling brick building, pinning her there, standing right up against her, so close her body heat surrounds me.

She gasps, eyes wide as she stares me dead in the face, like she just can’t believe this is happening.

Me, too, woman. I can’t believe this shit, either.

“I’ll scream,” she says, her voice a breathless cloud between us. “I swear I will.”

“No, you won’t.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Because if you wanted to scream, you would’ve just done it,” I say, patting down her flimsy coat, feeling for some pockets. “Now give it to me.”