“I was scared, and I just—I couldn’t take it anymore, and—”
Wait a minute.
My brain finally catches up with my mouth.
What right does he have to question me like this when...when...
“You’re the reason I’m scared in the first place,” I cry out. “You’re the one stalking me for no reason—”
“Did I say I didn’t have one?”
Everything becomes clear the moment he says this, and it just makes me feel so much worse—
“You’re here because of Braxton.”
Because it’s clear that my rescuer feels burdened to protect me.
Again.
“The police told you about him?”
I nod. “They’ve already warned Dane and me—”Is it just my imagination or did he stiffen when I mentioned Dane’s name?“So if that’s what you’re worried about—”
“It’s not.”
My words stutter to a stop.
“I’m here because I want to talk to you.”
“You want to talk to me,” I echo.
“Yes.”
“But it’s not about Braxton?”
Before he can answer, my phone buzzes in my pocket, and when I take it out, it’s Dane’s name flashing across the screen.
“I should—”
“Don’t answer it.”
I blink up at him. “It’s just Dane—”
“Exactly.”
I...have no idea how to decipher that.
But anyway.
“This won’t take a—hey!”
The moment I try lifting the phone to my ear, things...happen. Or maybe my rescuer is inhumanly fast or I’m the one who’s unbelievably slow because the next thing I know, my back is against the wall again, and he’s caging me in with his body, one hand flat against the stone beside my head, the other curled around my wrist.
“W-What are you doing?”
“I told you.” His voice has dropped to something low and rough, and his face is so close I can see the individual shards of blue in his eyes. “I came here to talk.”
“Then let’s talk after I answer—”
