The Long Ride Home

Jessica’s glare was icy.

“Whoa, okay,” Jacob said, placating her ire. “We can talk.”

They moved out of the way of the bathroom entrance into a small alcove in the hall. 

“What's this about?” he asked innocently.  

“Oh, you know exactly what this is about. I know your type.” She stabbed her index finger at his chest. 

Jacob stepped out of her reach with his hands up in front of him protectively. “I don’t know what you’ve heard-”

“You better not be messing with him. If you hurt him, I will come after you. He’s been through enough,” she spat bitterly.