Page 22 of No One But You
I explained the basics of what had happened and called for questions.Most people wanted to know whether I had any long-lasting injuries or if the person who’d done it had been caught.
One viewer asked if I’d be taking a break from posting to recover, and I assured them that I’d keep making content, but that I wouldn’t be doing any gymnastics for a while.Someone else said that hearing what had happened to me only made them more nervous to go solo hiking, and my heart twinged.
I hated that.One of the reasons I’d started incorporating hikes into my content was to make the outdoors more accessible to women who might otherwise be wary of it.
Where are you?a regular viewer asked.That isn’t your usual setup.
I laughed.“No, it isn’t.I’m staying with a handsome doctor.”
Cue a flurry of questions about said doctor and whether we were dating.
Bypassing those, I asked them what they wanted to see from me next, since gymnastics and hiking wouldn’t be possible for at least a couple of weeks, but probably longer.Before I had a chance to start going through the responses, a comment all in caps drew my attention, and my stomach dropped.
WHO’S THAT BEHIND YOU?IS IT THE HANDSOME DOCTOR?
Slowly, I turned, wondering if perhaps Max had forgotten something and had to come home.When I spotted the figure in the window, haloed with sunlight, my muscles locked and something awful unspooled low in my gut.
That wasn’t Max.
Instinctively, I reeled away, almost falling off the edge of the sofa.The figure at the window moved sideways.They were wearing a black ski mask and were in the process of raising their hand.
I screamed and—not wanting to find out what was in his hand—I snatched up the stand with my phone on it and sprinted down the hall.
I lunged into the bathroom, which only had a tiny window—hopefully not big enough for someone to enter through—and locked the door.
With clumsy fingers, I ended the live and called the police.
THIRTEEN
MAX
As soon as I saw my patient out, I fished my phone from my pocket and checked the screen.It had vibrated with a call during the consultation, but I hadn’t been able to answer.
My insides knotted as I saw that the missed call was from Nate.A text message followed immediately after.
Nate:Go to your place ASAP.
My pulse spiked.Shit.Whatever that was about, it couldn’t be good.
I dialed Nate’s number and waited for him to answer.
He didn’t.
Uneasiness swept over me, and I pocketed the phone, grabbed my keys, and rushed to lock the front entrance and put up a Closed sign along with the emergency contact number.I hurried out the back and to my minivan.
It wouldn’t take me long to run home, but driving was faster, so I threw myself behind the steering wheel and started the engine.Tearing away from the curb, I spared a moment to be grateful that the street was empty and I didn’t endanger anyone with my erratic driving.
Within seconds, I spotted the police car parked outside my house.
Fucking hell.This was really bad.
The hair on the back of my neck rose, and I slammed on my brakes and shuddered to a stop behind the vehicle.I killed the engine, leaped out, and raced to the front door.It was ajar, and I smacked into it palms first, ignoring the unpleasant thud as I scanned the room frantically for Bailey.
She was curled on the sofa, her eyes red-rimmed and mascara bleeding down her wet cheeks.I crossed the room in a few strides and dropped to my knees beside her, smoothing my hands down her body as I searched for injuries.
Sobbing, she scooted to the edge of the sofa and grabbed at me.I let her take hold of me, uncertain what she was trying to do until she looped her arms around me and awkwardly pulled me closer.
I rose into a crouching position, wrapped her in a gentle embrace, and ran my hand down her back.She was shaking.
