17. Casey

Chapter 17

Casey

I slipped my fingers under my collar, brushing them against the spot on my shoulder where Sawyer's mark was still a little swollen.

The two indentations felt like the sting of an insect bite—subtle, barely noticeable, but carrying so much more weight. It was strange how something so small could mean so much.

When Sawyer gave me the mate mark, I didn't expect to feel him so deeply, like a part of him had latched onto my soul.

The warmth coursing through me was more than physical. It was like being wrapped in comfort I didn't know I've been missing.

It felt like coming home.

Afterward, I thought we'd do more—something to match the intensity of the bond we'd just formed.

There was this itch, this craving for his touch, to feel more of him. But instead, Sawyer had just carried me to bed, laying me down gently and kissing me softly.

His lips lingered on mine for a moment, and then he settled beside me, draping his arm over me as he drifted off to sleep.

It was nice, but it wasn't what I'd expected.

Maybe he was tired, or maybe he thought I was, after everything that had happened. Either way, the bond left me aching, wanting something more, something deeper.

I sighed and stood up from my desk, glancing out the store window.

The day had been dragging, and the stillness made the restless energy inside me feel even more intense.

"Do you think anyone's still going to come in, Benny?" I asked, half-expecting the little dachshund to react.

But when I turned, he was curled up at the foot of my desk, chewing on his toy.

I checked my watch—still an hour before closing. Nothing was really happening today, and I had already let Chris off early.

Now, all I could think about was seeing Sawyer tonight. I sat back down at my desk, phone in hand, and started typing.

Casey: What time are you coming by later?

I chewed on the inside of my cheek, rereading the text a few times, debating if I sounded… desperate? Too eager? Before I could decide whether to delete the message, Sawyer replied.

Sawyer: The usual. Want me to grab dinner?

I was about to type a quick "yes" when another text popped up.

Sawyer: No mini sandwiches or bagel bites.

I chuckled. I couldn't decide whether to be offended or amused.

Was it that obvious those were my favorites? The grocery store below my place always had them on sale when I passed by after work, so they were an easy grab.

Plus, they were perfect snacks when we were lounging on the couch, watching shows.

They would've been perfect for tonight since we'd planned to watch that new crime documentary I'd been eyeing.

Then again, dinner wasn't really what I wanted. Not tonight.

My thoughts drifted to Sawyer. I could already feel his hands on my skin, the way his touch sent a spark through me, lighting up every inch of my body.

I imagined his rough fingers gliding over me, tracing a slow path down my spine, stopping just before they reached the curve of my hips.

His grip would tighten, teasingly, and the anticipation would make my breath hitch.

I pictured the press of his chest against mine, his breath hot on my neck as his lips moved lower—from my jaw to my collarbone until they brushed against the mark on my shoulder.

I could almost hear the low rumble of his voice, the way he groaned when he was close, saying my name like it was the only thing that mattered.

I bit my lip, trying to shake the thoughts, but my fingers were already moving across the phone screen before I could stop myself.

Casey: Grab some wine. And don't be late.

Benny let out a soft whimper, pulling my attention away from the screen.

I glanced up, expecting to see him still playing with his toy. But my stomach dropped when I saw Garth.

I froze. I hadn't even heard the door open.

I didn't even know how long he'd been standing there, watching me.

Benny let out another whimper, scooting closer to my leg.

I forced a smile. "Hey, Garth. What are you doing here?"

My voice came out steadier than I expected, but my palms were already starting to sweat.

Garth didn't return the greeting. He took a slow step forward, his gaze moving around the shop before it settled on me.

"Didn't you say you wanted to talk about the rent?" he asked, his eyes flicking to the storefront window, then back to me.

I cleared my throat. "Uh, right. Well, I was actually about to close up soon. Maybe we can talk tomorrow? I've had a long day."

"Tomorrow?" he repeated, like it was some kind of joke. His lips curled into a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I think now's as good a time as any, don't you?"

I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. There was something in his look that sent a cold chill down my spine.

I glanced toward the window, wondering if anyone was passing by, but the street outside was empty.

"I'm actually about to head out myself," I tried again, standing up and taking a small step back from the desk. "I'm just waiting for Chris to get back, then I'm gonna lock up."

I hoped the mention of someone else being here would make Garth reconsider whatever it was he had planned. But deep down, I knew he wasn't buying it.

He took another step forward, closing the distance between us.

"Chris isn't here?" Garth asked, his voice almost too casual. Like he already knew the answer but wanted to hear me say it.

His eyes darted to the door again and then back to me, the smirk on his face growing.

My stomach twisted. Why did I let Chris go early? Why hadn't I locked the door behind him?

"Yeah," I said, regretting the word the second it left my mouth.

Garth's smile widened. "Good."

I tensed. "What do you want, Garth?" I tried to keep my voice steady, but the rising panic made it hard to breathe.

My mind raced, searching for a way out, some excuse to get him to leave, but every option felt useless.

His eyes darkened, and I noticed his gaze drop briefly to my shoulder—where Sawyer had marked me.

My skin prickled under his stare. Did he know? But why would that matter to him?

"I just think we should have a little chat," he said, his voice low. "About Sawyer. About you. About what happens when people don't know their place."

My heart hammered against my chest, but I forced myself to stay calm.

"Look, I don't know what you're talking about," I said, my mind scrambling for a way out. "If you have an issue with the rent, we can figure it out tomorrow."

He chuckled, a deep, unsettling sound. "Oh, this isn't about rent anymore, Casey." He leaned in closer, his breath hot on my face. "Your mate pissed me off. It's unfortunate, but you'll have to pay the price."

Before I could react, he reached out and grabbed my arm. I flinched, instinctively trying to pull away, but he was stronger.

His grip tightened on my arm and yanked me to my feet. I stumbled, trying to regain my footing, but he was too strong.

Panic surged through me, but I managed to grab the silver-coated scissors from the desk, slipping them into my sleeve. I had no idea if they'd make a difference, but it was all I had.

Benny's frantic barking echoed behind us, his tiny paws scrambling as we moved from the pet cleaning area, past the office, toward the back door.

My thoughts were a mess, racing to figure out how the hell Garth knew about this exit. But then it hit me—of course, he would. This was his property, after all. He owned every inch of it.

I kicked out, desperate to get some leverage, trying to slow him down, but it was like kicking a brick wall.

He didn't even flinch, his grip iron-tight as he shoved open the door. The cool air from the alley hit my face, but the icy knot in my gut only tightened.

Benny barked louder, his high-pitched yelps cutting through the night. Garth snapped his head toward him, shouting, "Shut up!"

Fear shot through me. I couldn't let him hurt Benny.

Desperation kicked in, and I yanked back on Garth's arm, trying to pull him away from the door.

"Don't touch him!" I shouted.

Garth whipped around, his hand shooting to my neck. His fingers clamped down hard, slamming me against the brick wall at a brutal angle.

The force knocked the breath out of me, and before I could react, I felt a sickening pop in my shoulder—a sharp, white-hot pain shooting through my arm as it dislocated.

I gasped, vision blurring, as my head smacked against the wall with a thud. Garth's face was inches from mine, his breath hot and foul against my skin.

Everything about this: the pressure, his body so close, brought memories flooding back. Old panic clawed at me, but I forced it down.

No. I wasn't there. This wasn't happening again.

I had to focus. Garth's grip on my throat tightened, his breath brushing against my ear as he growled something I couldn't make out. But it didn't matter.

My stomach churned, the pain from my shoulder nearly blinding, but the nausea grounded me. I couldn't let him win.

I shifted slightly, just enough to get a grip on the scissors hidden in my sleeve. The searing pain in my shoulder burned through me, but I pushed past it.

With a grunt, I shoved myself off the wall. The motion sent a fresh wave of pain shooting through my body, but it gave me the momentum I needed.

In one quick motion, I slashed the air in front of me, managing to catch Garth across the cheek.

He howled in pain, his hand flying to his face. Blood welled up instantly. I didn't need to see the look on his face to know it hurt.

I didn't have time to think, didn't have time to hesitate.

My breath came in ragged gasps, and I readied myself to strike again.

But before I could make another move, Garth's fist slammed into the side of my head, sending me crashing to the concrete below.

My head hit the ground hard, stars bursting behind my eyes as pain exploded through my head.

Everything went fuzzy. The last thing I saw was Garth's shadow looming over me before everything went black.