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Hot tears burnt my chilled face as I legged it farther away from the club, and although that guy wasn’t my nightmare, he might as well have been.
When I reached the city centre, I slowed to an unsteady walk, dodging late-night revellers. If they had followed me, they’d not find me here.
I shivered, the frigid night air setting into my bones, and I mentally kicked myself. Shit, I’d left my jacket at the club, but no way was I going back for it and risking running into them again.
Home was where I needed to be, safe and warm in my bed.
Tonight had been a mistake.
Should I hail a taxi? No. The thought of being in an enclosed space with any male set me on edge. Walking in these temperatures wasn’t an option either, so the safest way was to get on the bus.
“Liam? Is that you?”
What the fuck? I hadn’t seen the guy in five years, and now here he was again. Detective Fucking Palmer. That was all I needed.
The bus stop was a few short feet away, the bus idling, waiting for the last passengers. I picked up my pace, pretending I hadn’t heard him.
“Liam. Wait right there!” His stern tone had old habits rearing their head, and I stopped.
Fuck me.
I waited for him to catch up.
A coat wrapped around me, and I sighed, grateful for the protection against the biting cold.
“You look frozen. At first, I wasn’t sure it was you, but I’d know you anywhere.” He helped me into the coat. “Where’s your jacket? Don’t you have one with you?”
I shook my head as he zipped it up, his fingers cold against my skin. I looked at him. He was just in shirt sleeves.
“I can’t have this. Take it back.” I went to unzip it, but he held my hands, stopping me.
“Just take it. You need it more than I do. Where were you going? It’s late.” He redid the zip and rubbed up and down my arms, bringing much-needed warmth to them.
“I was going home…to sleep.” Now the adrenaline had worn off, exhaustion crept in.
“My car’s just here. I can take you.”
Too tired to protest, I let him guide me to his car, and I got in. This was safer than taking the bus or walking.
“Are you ok? You don’t look so good. Did something happen?” he asked softly.
What could I tell him?
That I’d panicked, fled into the night, running away from a nightmare that had never left me.
The bile that had threatened, filled my mouth. I threw the car door open and puked, my stomach contracting, squeezing out every bit of alcohol.
My throat burnt, the taste bitter.
A firm hand stroked my back.
“That’s it. Get it out of your system. Better out than in, as my mama would say.”
Feeling slightly better, I sat back, and he handed me his handkerchief.
“Thanks. I’m all right now. Can you take me home?” I just wanted my bed.
I gave him my address and dozed as he drove. A gentle shake and I was wide awake.
