"This place is off-limits, especially to kids. I thought I told Bryan that."
The voice was deep, resonant, and laced with irritation, but there was something about it that made her stomach flip unexpectedly.
Rexan spun around, her back still pressed against the door. She could barely make out his towering figure in the dim room, but the energy he radiated was enough to set her nerves on fire.
"I'm 18. I'm an adult," she said defensively, her voice faltering slightly.
The man stepped closer, and her breath caught. The dim light from the desk lamp cast sharp shadows across his face, highlighting the unforgiving lines of his jaw and the dark, piercing gaze that seemed to strip her bare.
"Did you just talk back to me?" he asked, his voice soft but filled with a dangerous edge.
Her throat tightened. She stammered, blinking rapidly as she tried to form words under the intensity of his stare. "I-I-"
She froze as she caught sight of the glint of metal in his hand, a gun.
Her breath quickened, her chest rising and falling erratically as his body inched closer to hers.
The heat radiating from him seemed to seep into her skin, making it impossible to focus. She was boxed in, trapped between his body and the door, and the tension was unbearable.
For absolutely no reason, he trailed the gun's barrel slowly over her jeans, up her jacket, and to her throat.
The cold touch of the metal sent a shiver through her, but it wasn't just fear that made her knees weak.
"Where's that big mouth?" he growled, his voice low and rough.
Her heart pounded so hard she was certain he could hear it.
The heat of his proximity was overwhelming, muddling her thoughts and making it impossible to breathe properly.
Her brain desperately tried to focus, spitting out random zombie facts like a survival mechanism:
Zombies were first discovered in Haitian folklore, where they were said to be reanimated corpses controlled by a bokor.
In 1995, the first "zombie virus" was speculated to originate from prions, infectious proteins that could turn the human brain into a sponge-like mass.
Modern theories suggested potential zombie outbreaks could be linked to mutated strains of rabies or neurotoxins.
The most expensive piece of zombie merchandise was an original prosthetic jaw from the 1978 movie Dawn of the Dead, sold at auction for $20,000.
But none of those facts could stop the strange pull she felt toward the man in front of her.
She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
The man's finger hovered over the trigger, and she felt the cold press of the gun at her throat.
Her body tensed, though a strange heat pooled in her stomach, and she hated herself for it.
A knock on the door shattered the suffocating silence.
"Sorry, bro, have you seen Rexan? The cute girl I said I'd bring over?" Bryan's voice called from the other side.
The man sighed, his hand slipping to the doorknob. Before opening it, he yanked her closer by the waist, his grip firm and unyielding.
She was burning now, her heart racing as the intoxicating mix of fear and something else entirely took over.
Light from the hallway spilled into the room, and Bryan stumbled in, his cheeks flushed and his grin wide. A red plastic cup dangled from his fingers, sloshing its contents as he swayed.
"Oh, there you are, Rexan!" Bryan hiccupped, clearly drunk. "I see you've met my big brother."
Bryan staggered further into the room, oblivious to the charged air between them. "He just got back from the army! Special forces, y'know. Oh, and he went to jail once, he was the leader of a gang. Cool, right?"
Bryan laughed, taking another gulp from his cup.
"I really wanna be like him, but I'm already 18, and he did all this by the time he was 21.
Anyways, at least I'm good with the ladies, and he's not." He hiccupped again, gesturing sloppily.
"Plus, I'm the better-looking brother," Bryan added, grinning like an idiot.
The man behind her let out a sharp, annoyed tsk.
Rexan swallowed hard, daring to glance up at him.
Oh, hell no. Bryan couldn't begin to compare to that face. His brother's sharp features were striking, almost unnervingly perfect, but there was a hardness in his expression that sent a chill down her spine.
She felt the man's hand linger on her waist for a moment too long, and it sent an unwelcome thrill up her spine.
Then, as if realizing what he was doing, he suddenly shoved her into Bryan's arms.
The force nearly sent her stumbling, but she barely noticed, too preoccupied with the lingering heat where his hand had been.
"Keep your pretty dolls off my property," he said coldly, stepping back into the shadows.