“It happens.” She shrugged and continued her care.
He grabbed her wrist. “Listen. I want to….”
The panic alarm inside her head went off. She jerked from his grip. “Don’t!”
Chapter 2
Wednesday 11:00 p.m.
Hands tight on the steering wheel, Jennie aimed her sedan toward home. Her face flamed hot at the memory of her reaction during her shift. She’d made a fool of herself in front of the handsome detective. After Kenny had come close to ending her life, she’d escaped under the radar to her Aunt Emily’s in Pinewood Shores. She’d settled in and loved the small-town life, but now she wanted to hide in a hole and never come out.
Please don’t ever make me cross paths with Detective Whitman again.
Streetlights glowed, creating shadows along the sidewalks. Jennie’s shoulders tensed as she maneuvered the car through town. She hated the dark. Evil hid in the corners, waiting to jump out, or so her mind told her. Especially tonight.
What had been a calm day had turned into a nightmare. One that her brain refused to release. The recollection of her near-death experience at the hands of Kenny flashbacked in full color when Detective Whitman attempted to help her. His hands on her triggered the memory of the worst day of her life.
When would her past quit haunting her?
She’d conceived her precocious ten-year-old daughter Zoey in her rush to find love. The bad choices in Jennie’s life stacked higher than the tallest building in the city, but she’d never include Zoey in that list. Her heart belonged to that young girl. Young and stupid, Jennie had walked away from her college friends and Aunt Emily for a future with Brad. It hadn’t taken long for her to realize she’d married a drunk. He’d loved her in his own sad way and had given her Zoey. For that, she’d forever be grateful. But after his death, her decisions had gotten worse.
Jennie turned into her driveway and shut off the engine. The porch light illuminated the front door and chased away darkness on the path. She inhaled, staring at the short walk.
Her heart raced. She struggled to grab the truth. Kenny had four more years on his ten-year prison sentence and wasn’t outside watching—waiting to finish what he’d started.
Hand in her purse, she wrapped her fingers around her stun gun and sprinted inside. She slammed the door closed and flipped the three strong locks. A little overkill, but her Aunt Emily, who owned the cottage, hadn’t blinked when Jennie requested the extra security measure.
She rested her back against the wall and fought the tears flooding her eyes. Her cheek throbbed where Detective Whitman had taken her to the ground to protect her from the crazed patient. Then she’d tumbled into a flashback and embarrassed herself. She hadn’t had a reaction like tonight’s in over a year and hated the regression to the dark places of her past.
Breathe deep. You can do it.She talked herself through the swarming panic and willed her pulse to slow.
Her trembling fingers hit speed dial. One ring. Two rings. A tear slipped down Jennie’s cheek. Three rings.Come on, Tina, pick up.
“Hello.”
“Tina.” Her voice quivered.
“Jennie, what’s wrong?”
“Tonight…Panicked…He thinks…freak.” Her inability to get the words out only made the sobs come harder.
“Slow down, honey. Okay. Let me get this straight. Something happened, and you panicked.”
“Uh-huh.” She sucked in a breath, trying to gain control.
“And someone thinks you’re a freak?”
“Uh-huh.”
“You’ll have to give me more to go on than that, my friend.”
Jennie took a deep breath, then another. “Sorry.”
“Better?”
“A bit.” Just hearing Tina’s calm tone helped.
“Want to try that again?”
