“No.” I couldn’t have said what I wanted other than I didn’t feel it was fair he got to be happy and partying.
“Out my way.” He gunned his car.
I planted my hands on my hips. “You killed my cat!”
“Why don’t you join that fleabag then, since you miss it so much?” It was the last thing I heard before the car lurched forward and slammed into me, tossing me into the air.
I spun at least once, maybe twice. Something cracked when I landed on my head. My face smooshed against the pavement, and I gasped in pain—the only thing I could do since I’d lost all feeling in my limbs. Probably not a bad thing, because it didn’t hurt when Gavin ran over me. Then backed up, and rolled over me again, cracking even more bones, before taking off.
Guess this was how I died. Broken and alone in a parking lot. Could have been worse. I could have been that spinster who died alone at home and wasn’t discovered for weeks—her corpse partially eaten by her cats.
“That was foolish,” a slick voice stated. “Humans rarely fare well against motor vehicles.”
“No shit,” I muttered.
“What would possess you to confront someone like him?”
“That asshole killed my cat.” I still couldn’t see the person who spoke to me and, quite frankly, couldn’t believe they were berating me for being dumb while I lay there dying.
“A heinous crime, but again, not sure what you were trying to accomplish here.”
“I was hoping I’d suddenly turn into John Wick.”
“You want revenge.”
“Wanted,” I corrected. “Guess the best I can hope for now is he gets charged with manslaughter when I die, and that when he gets to prison his cocky attitude earns him daily beatings.”
“What if instead of expiring you got another opportunity to make him pay for what he did?”
My chuckle sounded wet and tasted coppery. “Unlike a cat, I think I’m out of lives.”
“You didn’t answer the question. Would you like a second chance?”
Without even thinking I blurted, “Yes. And next time, I’d be smarter and confront him with a gun.”
“I doubt you’ll need a weapon,” the cryptic reply before the stranger touched me, and by touch, I mean he bit my neck.
Hard.
Turned out my body wasn’t so numb after all.
The intense pain knocked me out.
Chapter Two
I woke, a surprise because I remembered quite distinctly getting run over by Gavin’s car and knowing I would die.
The next shock? I felt no pain, meaning I’d either been pumped full of drugs or I was fully paralyzed. Please don’t be the latter. While I commended paraplegics who’d found a way to live with their disability, after close to fifty years of mobility, the thought of being just a head who required constant care—and would have to shit and piss in a diaper that someone would have to change—terrified.
Was I in a hospital? I heard no beeping machines.
Only one way to find out what happened. I opened my eyes at the same time as I attempted to flex my fingers and toes.
My extremities worked—Booyah!—and I didn’t appear to be in a hospital, judging by the smooth plaster ceiling and the fancy overhead fan. A turn of my head showed no medical equipment or IV drip, but rather a nightstand holding a lamp that emitted a soft glow.
Where the heck was I? Obviously not my bedroom, as I didn’t recognize the décor. Why would I? The space screamed money, which I’d never had.
I sat up and the sheet slid below my naked boobs to pool in my lap. Naked boobs? A peek under the bedding showed my crotch just as bare. Someone undressed me, leading me to wonder, had I been molested?
