I think he just desperately didn’t want to lose you.
The cold barely registered. I was too full of adrenaline and something dangerously close to hope.
I still loved him.
The realization felt electrifying and terrifying all at once.
I walked faster, my boots crunching through fresh snow. My car sat under a streetlamp three blocks down, alone on the darkened street.
The earlier noise from the bar had dissolved into an eerie stillness.
I was almost to my car when I heard something behind me.
I slowed and turned around, feeling the hair rise on the back of my neck. But there was nothing: just snow and the flickering of the street lamps.
I told myself I was being paranoid and started walking again.
When I was about twenty feet from my car, I heard the crunch of footsteps in the snow again. But they were closer now. And undeniably not my imagination.
I stopped, feeling my body freeze up, and not from the cold now.
“Who’s there?”
I looked around, my breathing getting more rapid.
And then he stepped out from the shadows, revealing himself in the dim light.
Dr. Pike was suddenly there, and my world stopped.
“Dr. Pike,” I said, and my voice sounded like it belonged to someone else. “What are you doing here?”
He smiled. And the gleam was positively predatory.
“Hope,” he said warmly, like we were old friends. “Small world.”
I glanced toward my car; it was not that far away. I debated turning and making a run for it. But fear and confusion had me rooted in place.
“What are you doing here?” I repeated.
“We need to talk,” he said. Not answering my question.
“I don’t want to talk to you.”
“That’s unfortunate,” he replied lightly. “Because we need to.”
I took a step back, and he took a step closer. My lungs constricted.
He closed the distance in a quick flash, his hand closing around my upper arm.
I froze.
“Let go of me,” I said, instinctively trying to pull away.
His grip tightened, and the reality that he could easily overpower me made my skin crawl.
“Lower your voice,” he said quietly. “You don’t want to make a scene, do you?”
“You’re harassing me,” I said. “If you don’t let go of me, I will scream.”
