Was Christian a creepy stalker?
“What’s going on?” he demanded.
“Were you following me?” I asked.
The door behind me opened.
Christian’s hazel eyes flicked there but returned immediately to me. “Were you with someone?”
“No.”
“Who was chasing after you?”
“You saw them?” I breathed.
His jaw got hard, he shoved me, I landed in someone’s arms, and he growled, “Call 999,” and then took off into the night.
“You’re trembling something fierce,” Fitzy said, pulling me inside. “What’s happening?”
“Terry, she’s bleeding!” Patsy cried.
Fitzy sat me in a chair and grabbed my hands.
While he was rotating them to look at my palms, I said, “Someone is out there.”
His gaze snapped to my eyes then he turned to his wife. “Call 999, luv. Now.”
She raced away.
“Lock the door,” I begged. “Please lock the door.”
“It’s locked. It’s on a latch, Miss Vivi.”
I nodded and couldn’t stop doing it.
“Breathe, luv, just breathe,” he urged. “I’ll be back.”
And then he disappeared.
I stared down at my hands.
They were a mess.
God, I went down harder than I thought.
Patsy hustled in with a first aid kit. “I’ve put the kettle on. Nice spot of tea will do you good.” She knelt in front of me, set the kit on the floor and took hold of my wrists. “These are going to need a bit of cleaning. Just a tick and I’ll have some nice warm water and soap.”
She got up, reached for a throw, tossed it around my shoulders and took off again.
I looked out their windows.
Just dark night. No colored lights.
The cold of my wet clothes and hair hit me and my teeth started chattering.
Patsy came back, and was in the middle of bathing my hands when Prue and Chassie rushed in.
“Oh my goodness!” Prue cried. “What happened to you?”
