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Breathe.
Right.
I inhale slowly.
Pain radiates through my ribs.
“Where am I?” I whisper hoarsely.
His eyes soften slightly.
“You’re at the clubhouse.”
The words take a moment to sink in.
Clubhouse.
That means—
The kitchen flashes through my mind.
The overturned table.
Blood everywhere.
The man’s face.
My chest tightens sharply.
“Someone was in my house,” I rasp.
Hawk’s jaw tightens.
“I know.”
My heart starts racing now.
My hands tremble slightly.
“He—”
My voice falters as the memory slams into place.
His hands around my throat.
The pressure.
The panic.
I swallow painfully.
My eyes widen.
“Did I…”
The words barely make it out.
“…kill him?”
