Page 17 of Rescued By the Mountain Man Cowboy
"Yeah."
"Three times. With a silencer. Like he'd done it before. Like it wasn't even..." She shakes her head. "And I dropped my food. The bag. It hit the floor and made this sound, and Marcus, he, he knew someone was there. I ran. I got to my car. I got home."
"Your car."
Her eyes come up.
"How'd you know?"
"Madison."
"Right." A humorless laugh. "Smashed out the back windshield. Flattened the tires. Left it in the parking garage for me to find. A message. He got to it in the time it took me to drive from the office to my apartment and call Madison. I was in my apartment ten minutes max. That's how fast. And my apartment is twenty minutes away. Twenty minutes, Luke."
I keep my face still.
"Okay."
"It's not okay. It's, they know where I live. They know my car. They probably know my parents' address. They probably know..." Her voice is climbing. Her fingers on the ring are going faster. "They probably know everything about me, Luke. I wasjust a name on a payroll spreadsheet a week ago and now I'm, I'm…oh God."
"Anna."
"I keep thinking about it. What if he'd turned around a second faster? What if I hadn't dropped the food? What if he'd gotten to my apartment before I did? What if somebody, what if I'd been in the stairwell when he came down? I don't know what a man like that does to a woman who saw what I saw, I don't, I don't..."
"Anna. Look at me."
Her eyes find mine.
"He didn't. None of that happened."
"But it could've."
"It didn't."
"It could."
"Not while you're here."
She stares at me. Her chest is going too fast. I watch her try to slow it down and lose.
"You don't know that," she whispers. "You don't know who he works for. You don't know what they're capable of. You're one man."
"One's enough."
"Luke."
"You think I'm blowing smoke up your skirt, Anna?"
She doesn't answer.
"I'm not."
Her throat moves. Her eyes drop. Her fingers finally stop turning the ring.
"I don't know how to do this." Quiet. Ashamed. "I don't know how to be the kind of person this happens to. I grew up riding horses and taking piano lessons, and my mom still picks out my scarves for winter. I don't know how to, to fight somebody. I don't know what to do if a man puts his hand on me. I can't even,in my head, I can't get past the part where he grabs me. I just freeze. Every time."
Something inside me leans forward.
"You ever taken a self-defense class?"
