Jaxon
The cool metal of the credit card slides between my fingers as I hand it to the cashier with a slow, measured movement. The soft whir of the receipt being printed is the only sound breaking the tense silence surrounding me.
Then, I feel it.
The presence of someone moving behind me, an elongated shadow creeping into my space. The store owner’s expression shifts, his eyes lighting up with a greasy kind of excitement as he puffs out his chest like a peacock desperate for attention. I don’t need to turn around to know who he’s looking at.
Rage grips my throat, dark and primal, like venom spreading too fast through my veins. I turn, ready to glare at Mia and her usual game of stolen glances with men, but what I see stops me in my tracks.
She isn’t even acknowledging him.
Her gaze is
