But it’s not a nice smile. It’s the kind that makes your legs heavy with fear.
He looks even bigger in this small, fluorescent bathroom than he did out by the bar. His head nearly brushes against the ceiling.
He flexes his hands like he can’t wait to tear me limb from limb.
“Our conversation was cut short,” he rumbles acidly. “I wanted to finish it.”
My heart thunders painfully in my chest as instinct tells me to run. To scream. Get away from this man as fast as I can.
But my eyes slip to the partially closed door of the stall Tamara’s in.
“Please,” I say. “I need to get my cousin home.”
“Cousin, huh?” he says conversationally. “You two don’t look related.”
I haven’t moved an inch. But he takes a step toward me and I turn slowly on the spot.
“Yeah, well, she’s my cousin, and she g
