Chapter 7
Fifteen minutes later, Eve found herself back behind the steering wheel of her little car. A myriad of emotions left her exhausted, and she rested her head on the hard, worn leather. Her day had been filled with enough anxiety, terror, relief and disappointment to fill the Grand Canyon.
Maybe she should take the night off work. Soak in a hot bath with a glass of wine before cuddling up with a book. Something with dragons and badass women who fought for what was right. A story to remind her she didn’t need a man in her life.
A reminder she didn’t need Reid.
At least not in this new, almost overwhelming way she wanted.
A deep ravine of regret split her in two. She’d spent the last year keeping Reid strictly in the friend zone, a place where they both seemed happy. Now that she’d lowered her guard, she wasn’t sure she could resurrect those walls.
Strengthening her resolve, she straightened and started the engine. It didn’t matter what box she wanted to put Reid in, he was clear as crystal about what he wanted. And a relationship with her—or anyone else—wasn’t an option. She was just raw and vulnerable from the attack, and the last thing she needed was to let her emotions get in the way of what really mattered.
And what mattered right now was focusing on her business and making sure everything was in place for tomorrow night’s event.
She drove out of her parking spot, and a quick glance at the clock on the dashboard told her she had a little time before she needed to head to work. A shower and a cup of coffee called her name. Once she indulged in both, her head would be back on straight.
With a plan in place, she maneuvered away from the brightly colored awnings shading the mom-and-pop shops lining Main Street. A few people moseyed from store to store, carrying to-go cups and pastry bags, but it wouldn’t be long before the dinner crowd swarmed the town.
She turned onto her quiet neighborhood street. Ancient trees bathed the road in shadows. The stamp-size front yards were empty of playing children or men mowing their grass. A perfect picture of a small-town lull she’d experienced a thousand times.
Her car shook as if she was suddenly driving over marbles and veered to the right. A flapping sound penetrated her closed window, and the shaking increased.
Great. How much more crap could her plate handle right now?
Forcing herself to keep calm, she pulled to a stop along the side of the road and flipped on the hazard lights. Chances were high she had a flat tire. Something she could change herself but would cost her time and that relaxing shower.
She pushed the button to pop the trunk then stepped outside, snatching her phone from where she’d placed it in the cup holder before slamming the door. She’d have to let Becca know she’d be late for her shift. If not, her best friend would worry. As she rounded her car, she scrolled through her phone to Becca’s number.
“Hey, change your mind and taking the night off?” Becca asked when she answered.
“I wish,” she said, crouching next to her now-deflated tire. “I was on my way home to get ready and I got a flat. I haveeverything I need to change it, but I might be late. I wanted to give you a heads-up.”
“You’ve had the worst luck,” Becca said. “Take your time. We’re holding down the fort. Dinner crowd won’t be in for a few more hours.”
“Thanks. I’ll keep you posted on when I should get there.” She disconnected and sighed. Becca was right. Luck hadn’t been on her side the past twenty-four hours. But at least this was something she could fix, so she might as well stop lamenting her misfortune and start changing the flat.
A low whistle skittered down her spine like a pack of angry ants. She glanced up, and a ball of terror lodged in her throat. A man wearing a dirty cowboy hat pulled low over his eyes and an overgrown beard strolled down the empty sidewalk. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his worn jeans and kept his gaze locked on her as he moved.
She lunged for the trunk and yanked out the tire iron. This asshole might have caught her off guard last night, but she wouldn’t be a shrinking violet. Wouldn’t stand and wait for another attack. With the hard metal in her hand, she used her shaking finger to call for help then ran for the driver’s side door. She dived inside, slamming the door shut and engaging the locks.
“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”
“This is Eve Tilly. I’m in my car on Cherry Street and the man who attacked me in my bar last night is walking toward me. My car has a flat tire. I can’t leave. I need police here now.” She started the engine and locked the doors. Fleeing on a flat tire could seriously damage her vehicle, but if the man tried to attack her again, she’d risk the damage to get to safety.
“I’m sending a sheriff’s deputy to you right away. Is the man still there?”
She glanced in her rearview mirror.
The man closed in on her, a slow smile growing on his face. He kept his steady pace even and unhurried like a madman from one of those cheesy 1980s horror movies.
She kept a tight grip on the tire iron. Her heart thundered against her chest as anxiety spiraled higher and higher. “Yes. He’s walking toward the car.”
“Help will be there soon.”
Words caught in the dryness of her mouth so she nodded, gaze locked on the mirror as she watched the man approach her car. She shifted the vehicle into Drive, prepared to take off and rip her wheel to shreds if necessary.
The man stopped mere feet from the back of her vehicle, lifted a hand to wave, then turned around and strolled back the way he’d come. Disappearing into the line of trees on the far side of the street.
