Free Cursed by Chemistry by Kacey Mark Page B

the floor as a nearby display of wind chimes toppled.
    Shauna flinched and shrunk down to avoid being seen.
    Billy muttered, “…damn son of a…” more growling than an audible words. Adrian’s deep reply interspersed the growling. “I’ll handle this.”
    Something told Shauna he wasn’t talking about the mess either. He sounded unrushed and at complete ease. He would. This was his playground.
    Adrian’s voice lowered beyond Shauna’s grasp. The reluctant scrape, scrape of the bouncer’s clean-up attempt didn’t help. She could only imagine what else Adrian was saying to calm that raging bull.
    I’ll handle it?
    Oh no, not this time he wouldn’t. Adrian had his chance to handle it.
    The handles were coming off.
    She slapped her palm against the wall. The display trembled and clinked. She hit harder, and her palm stung.
    Still nothing.
    Her cheeks heated with frustration. Stupid kindergarten knickknacks were getting the better of her. She lifted the offensive swing from its hook and her view of the stamp became clear. As well as the sharp arrow below that pointed to the east-side wall.
    Seriously? She let the swing slip from her fingertips. It hit the floor with a clunk .
    Shauna’s attention whirred east, and then she craned her neck forward and looked again. An illusion. The wall wasn’t complete. From any other position in the store, she would have overlooked it. The thin slice of false wall obstructed a dark hallway, just wide enough to shoulder through. Beyond that, the faint luster of a brass doorknob and the outline of another door.
    “Shauna—”
    She stole a look in his direction.
    “You’re not going in there.” Two aisles over, Adrian squared himself to full attention. The logoed cotton T-shirt that met her earlier still clung to his chiseled pecs.
    She swallowed. Someone should really turn the heat down on his drier. Or confiscate it.
    As if on cue, those proud pecs twitched as Adrian folded his arms. Massive shoulders lifted in a what-gives sort of shrug.
    A new form of heat flared in her cheeks. She’d seen Adrian’s recipe for challenge before. The higher her gaze traveled, the more potent it got.
    The thick cords of muscle at his neck channeled upward to an iron-set jaw. She couldn’t look past the dusting of stubble. She couldn’t meet his eyes. Adrian already held enough of an edge to stay her.
    On a normal day.
    But Shauna moved again for the door.
    What could he do? Nothing. He played here all the time. If he could do it, so could she.
    In her tender, teenage years, his anger and disapproval would have thrown a proverbial bucket of ice over her spirit. But it was about time she outgrew him. No more spirit shushies for her.
    She shot him what she hoped was her most impish grin and rushed for the hall. “Sorry, but I just can’t help myself.”
    “Damn you,” he muttered. Determined steps marched through the store, and echoed between the narrowed walls.
    Adrian was gaining but not fast enough. Bubbles of delight chased around in her stomach when she reached the door. She didn’t fight the urge to giggle as the knob turned with minimal effort, and Shauna rushed inside.

Chapter Eight
    The door slammed and the steel cage surrounding her shuddered in response. There went the tiny, bat-like cry of what used to be her victory, as it flapped away in an irregular path.
    She spun around; the clang of her heels echoed through the structure.
    Please let it be an elevator, not a…whatever the heck else it might be . This wasn’t familiar territory, but not even Shauna could imagine this much security just for a broom closet.
    Urgent sirens in her head blared, Doorknob. Doorknob.
    Any second, it would turn. She’d be face-to-face with that party-pooping Poindexter.
    Within arm’s reach on the right, a small, black box with two buttons stood out from the wall. She jabbed the lower button with her index finger. A buzzer sounded. Shauna’s attention caught a slight movement through the