Siren's Mark

Chapter 22

"Hey, dykes!" a man's voice interjects as he approaches us.

Oh frickin great.

The guy is significantly taller than us, muscular, and wearing a truly heinous silver puffy jacket over a branded T-shirt. He has tousled brown hair, strong stubble, and an expression that says 'I've already had a few beers today.'

"Fuck off," I say, pulling Jen away and inserting myself in between them.

"Maybe you want to keep your fucking mouths shut in public if you don't want the world knowing you're muff munchers."

"Wasn't looking for your opinion, dickwad," Jen spits.

He steps towards her with his chest puffed up, but I remain in between them.

This douche is out of his mind if he thinks I'm going to let him pull this crap.

"Buddy," I say. "Just because women look at you and then say they prefer women, doesn't mean you have to go around being a dick to every woman you suspect is a lesbian. So you can either get fucked or we can call the cops."

Jen chokes back a laugh behind me. His eyes seem furious and his hands are tensed into fists.

So I felt pretty safe saying that because I was 90% sure this guy wasn't gonna punch me in the back of a bookstore, but in hindsight I'm a little uneasy about those odds.

Shit.

I feel his hands on my shoulders and my back roughly collides with the bookshelf behind me—hard. His face is inches from mine and I let out a small yelp.

Ow.

"Is that right, bitch?" he snaps. I can see a panicked Jen dialing 911 out of the corner of my eye.

"Maybe you just need a little more dick in your life," he says, aggressively grinding his crotch into me.

His grip on my shoulders is tight and sending waves of pain through my arms. I struggle to push him off and in a split second I watch as a thick book meets his head. He turns around but hardly seems phased, so I take the opportunity to bring my knee up between his legs.

He shudders before collapsing to the ground and Jen and I both take off running to the front of the store.

ℤ𝕒𝕟𝕖

I pull in to the car park and see a text from Ava light up my phone screen.

Ava: Actually I can meet you at my place.

I pull in to a parking spot a ways away from the entrance and turn off the car.

Me: I'm already here

I step out of my car and see two police cars stopped out front. I feel an uneasy sensation in my chest, but I push it aside.

She's fine. She literally just texted me.

Ava: Okay. Don't freak out.

So much for that. Her text has had the opposite of its intended effect. My feet move faster as I hurry toward the book store.

Is she sick? Did she pass out? Did she hurt herself?

No... wait. These are not ambulances, they're police cars.

Ava: There are cops here. It's a long story. We're fine. Wait in the car and I'll be out in a sec.

Okay. Okay. She's fine—no reason to lose my shit.

The doors swing open as Ava and Jen step outside. They both look okay, but Ava's expression seems unsure and focused on me. I wrap my arms around her and pull her close.

"What the hell, you two?" I say. "Why's the cavalry outside the book-"

What is that smell? What the fuck is that?

I inhale deeply and feel every hair in my body stand on end. I pull Ava away so that I can see her eyes and I instantly register what I'm smelling.

It's a man's scent; it's all over her. And another I recognize—fear.

Someone touched her. Scared her.

I try to talk myself out of hunting this person down right here and now.

I'm going to fucking kill him.

Remember, she said she's okay. They're both okay.

"Who did this?" I manage to choke out the words. My muscles are tight with rage and I can hardly hear a thing over the pounding rhythm of my heartbeat in my ears.

"You told Zane already?" Jen asked. "I'm kind of surprised! What with you all being Mister Macho and whatnot." Jen seems to be her usual, playful self, but I'm struggling to maintain an equally calm facade.

Ava opens her mouth to speak but before she can Jen continues.

"You'd be proud of her, bro. She was quite the badass. I don't think either of us expected that guy to shove her like that..."

Jen's words fade in and out as I try to comprehend their meaning. Ava's eyes are locked on me, probing for any sign that I might go find this guy and rip his head off.

I struggle to fight back my instincts, screaming at me to end this fucker.

And you can bet I bloody will.

Ava will be pissed if you go after this guy right now.

Don't care. He's a fucking dead man.

You do care. Control yourself.

"...and the creep starts grinding all up on her so I grab a big-ass book and crack him over the head like a fucking pro wrestler..."

He did what now?

What?

Fucking. Dead. Man.

Okay, kill him.

"Woah, man," Jen pauses, looking at me quizzically. "Your eyes are really crazy looking right now, like... it looks like they're glowing from the inside it's so weird."

Ava keeps her gaze focused on me.

"Yeah, uh," I mumble before grabbing Jen's wrist. "No, my eyes look normal. You were saying?"

As she continues, I can hardly maintain my composure, my brain flips through every type of torture I can imagine as I drift in and out of focus.

"...Boom! Right in the nards!" Jen's voice says, bringing my attention back into the conversation.

I can't help but smile at the thought.

"Dickhead goes down, hard," she continues, "and we take off towards the front."

I chuckle a bit at the thought of these two leaving this prick in the fetal position on the floor.

"He in there?" I ask, trying my best to sound like I'm not asking so I can go beat the shit out of him.

Ava shoots me a knowing glance.

"No," Jen sighs. "He took off before anyone could really detain him, but they have him on the security tape. The cops took our statements too. Who knows if it'll amount to anything."

I rub a hand along Ava's back.

"Well, I wouldn't worry," I say with a smirk. "Something tells me this prick is gonna get what's coming to him."