Dangerous Saviors // Two

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"Thanks for picking up Becca's shift, Evie." Chelsea locks the doors to her restaurant, shoving her hands in her pockets. "I feel bad letting you walk home this late. Do you want me to drop you off closer to campus?"

"Nah." Evie kicks at the snow. "It's fine. It's only two miles and I don't get much time for walking around and thinking nowadays. Plus, I like the snow." She smiles, halfway lying. She just really didn't like inconveniencing people.

Chelsea raises an eyebrow. "Okay, then. Suit yourself. Have a nice night, Evie."

"You too."

They part ways. Chelsea goes to her car a block away, and Evie walks back home. She tucks her frostnipped fingers into her jacket pockets, nuzzling into her thick scarf. Evie was acclimated to the warm winters of southern Georgia; the concept of snow, wind, and sub-freezing temperatures were entirely new to her.

You know what else was cold? Those silver eyes...

Evie shakes her head, trying to rid the thought of the tattooed man from her head.

She walks the rest of the way home.

Evie shakes out her numb fingertips, grabbing her keys from her purse and unlocking the door to her dorm. The dorms each had four bedrooms connected by a kitchenette and bathroom, so she considered herself lucky in the grand scheme - she doesn't have a roommate.

She unraveled her scarf from around her neck and hung it on a hook. It was quiet. There was a note on the counter that said Katie and Ana went out for pizza and wouldn't be back until late, and Evie could feel free to join. Maggie was conked out with the flu, dead asleep and stoned on five different types of cough suppressants and fever reducers.

Evie tossed her keys in the bowl on the counter and took off her coat, hanging it on top of her scarf.

She walked into her room, flipping on the lights.

Suddenly, she's jumped and grabbed from behind, a hand wrapped around her mouth and the other around her midsection.

"You're not going to scream, because I'm not going to hurt you." The man clutching her whispers. He... He smelled a lot like that flannel shirt that was piled on the chair in the corner. "I'm going to let you go, and we're going to have a nice, polite conversation. A quiet conversation that doesn't end with my switchblade in your carotid. Are we clear?"

Evie nods rapidly, refusing to open her mouth as he lets her go.

He walked around her, sitting casually on her bed.

Holy fuck.

He was the spitting image of her savior, but about thirty years in the future, in a freshly pressed suit, and another twenty pounds on his frame. - that wasn't muscle.

Because my silver-eyed savior was pure male muscle...

"So, Miss Evangeline Lacoste. You were seen with my son last night."

Evie couldn't find it in herself not to ask who that might of been, however obvious it was. "W-who?"

"His most used alias is Cade Harmon, but his name is Carlos DeMarco." The older man flashes a smile. "You might recognize him by his caustic, frank tongue and body art." He fishes a crisply folded photo out of his pocket and offers it to her. In it she saw silver-eyes, lighting a cigarette in the dark as he leaned against the building. A surveillance photo.

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