Free Graphically Novel (Love Hashtagged #3) by Allyson Lindt

with assault charges. It was half the reason he had the shop completely wired with cameras. Sure, it helped prevent theft, but the digital eye didn’t lie in a civil case.
    Tori twisted her mouth to the side, a new shadow falling over her eyes. If this level of confrontation was bugging him, it had to be devouring her. He was surprised she hadn’t found an excuse to vanish into the back room. Maybe she was finally getting used to the fact that some people were just misery-spewing assholes.
    “Anyway. What are you up to today?”
    She leaned to the side, glanced at something behind him, and then straightened again. “Not sure yet. I’m not used to having an entire free Saturday. If you weren’t working, I’d say we should go do that Alpine Coaster thing again.”
    The flood of memories slammed back into him, bringing tastes and smells to tempt him. His cock twitched. Maybe if they found somewhere more secluded, they could get further than they had in the mountains. “Derrek’s coming in at three.”
    Her smile grew, eyes pulling up at the corners, and then vanished when she looked over his shoulder again. “You can leave that at the counter until you’re ready to pay.” There was a waver to her voice.
    Archer looked, to find the boys standing near the front door, the taller one’s jeans not hanging as well as when they came in.
    The shorter one whispered something. The taller one’s sneer returned.
    “I’m not carrying anything.” His voice cracked, disrupting his lie.
    Tori’s arm brushed Archer’s, as she moved to stand next him. A glance out of the corner of his eye told him her arms were crossed.
    “The figurine you shoved down the leg of your pants. You need to pay for it.” Her tone was firmer now. More clear and confident.
    The taller kid took a step back and ran into the shorter one’s hand. The taller kid said, “Fuck you, bitch. You can’t accuse me of carrying shit so you have an excuse to make me drop my pants.”
    Archer clenched his jaw, and all the frustration from the night before rushed back, this time with a target. He crossed the room quickly, stopped short of the pair, and rose to full height. “The young lady said you’ve got something on you.”
    Shorty nudged his companion again, who mimicked Archer’s arms-crossed-and-shoulders-back posture. The occasional crack in his voice would’ve been funny, if not for the words he spewed. “Your bitch doesn’t belong in a comic book store. Why don’t you leave us alone, you fucking pedo, and go find out what a real pussy feels like? Take the whore in the back room and rape her until she knows her place is in the fucking kitchen.”
    Archer wouldn’t pound the kid into a pulp. Fists clenched, he uncrossed his arms and took another step forward. There was no reason to let the punk know he considered restraint.
    Both kids stepped back at the abrupt threat, and a plastic-wrapped collectible dropped from the leg of the older one’s pants and tumbled to the ground.
    “Get out before I call the police and have your asses hauled to jail until you’re old enough to buy booze.” Archer spoke between clenched teeth, but his growl echoed back from the walls.
    “Fucking pedophile. Feminist asshole,” the kid said. This time, he ignored his friend’s nudge and dragged him out the front door, occasionally glancing over his shoulder. His pace quickened when Archer took another step toward the door.
    He wouldn’t go after the kids. They weren’t worth the hassle. Even if every bit of him wanted to pound their skulls until those boys learned respect. He grabbed the toy from the floor and raised an eyebrow when he realized it was one of his rare imports—a two-hundred-fifty dollar Japanese collectible.
    He turned back to Tori, frowning when he saw her arms were still crossed, her fingers digging into her skin hard enough to leave pale marks. He set the toy aside and stepped closer to her. “Are you okay?”
    She nodded, jaw clenched.
    “You