Chapter Four

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There was a man in their apartment.

A stranger.

And Beepers, their tiny parakeet, sat on his finger. The bird's eyes were partially closed, his feathery head bent as he greedily accepted scratches.

Rylie froze on the spot as the man looked up. His eyes bored into their own.

Torn between fight or flight, Rylie found themself unable to move at all. Although every primal thought told them to run, they couldn't leave their feathery best friend behind.

Although they still gripped the can of pepper spray, Rylie couldn't even summon the ability to spray it. If they did, they may accidentally hurt Beepers. And the nearest bird veterinarian was almost an hour away.

Yet, Rylie knew the pepper spray was their only hope. There would be no way they could fight off the man sitting on their couch. Impossibly tall and muscled, Rylie doubted they would last even half a second against him.

A gleaming white smile worked its way onto the man's lips. He straightened up, but continued to give Beepers his loved scratches.

"Rylie Hill," the man said, tasting their name on his tongue. His gaze tore away from their own, only to work its way down the entire length of their body.

Rylie shivered. No one had ever peered at them like that before.

"What are you doing in my apartment and why do you have my bird?" Rylie tried to harden their voice and transform their question into a threatening demand. Instead, they could barely rasp out the words, each one weakening and softening as it fell from their lips.

"Do not be afraid," the man said. "I will not harm Beepers."

Rylie couldn't stop the second shiver that wracked their body. The man knew their bird's name.

The man stood. Rylie fought every urge in their body to step back. Although their fear was palpable, Rylie refused to give into it.

This was their home, dammit. And Beepers was their family. They wouldn't leave him behind.

It didn't matter if the man who held their bird hostage towered an easy six-foot-five. It didn't matter that his shoulders were wide and broadened further with taunt muscle.

The man easily reached them in only a few wide-loped steps. Rylie didn't think it was possible for their muscles to lock up further. They jutted their chin out and cranked their head up to glare at the man.

He towered almost a foot over the top of their head.

The man hesitated. Carefully. As if he were dealing with a frightened fawn. Gently, without directly touching them, he placed Beepers atop their head.

Beepers chirped and immediately nestled down in the crown of Rylie's dyed hair. He pulled at a few strands of their short locks, already trying to nest.

A long and terse sigh escaped Rylie's nostrils as the man stepped back.

Beepers seemed okay. He was acting absolutely normal. Hell, even a little too friendly with the stranger in their home.

Carefully, keeping the man in their line of vision, Rylie inched away from the door to place Beepers in his cage from across where the couch sat, besides the small television. He hopped onto his favorite branch and immediately began cleaning his feathers.

As soon as they locked the cage up, Rylie aimed the pepper spray directly at the stranger's sculpted face.

"How the hell did you get into my apartment?" Rylie bit out. "Who are you, and how do you know my name? Hell, my bird's name, even?" This time, Rylie forced their voice to project. They pointedly ignored the soft whines and whimpers behind their words.

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