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“It’s okay, you’re safe,” Zoe said, kneeling beside her.
But the woman’s eyes didn’t leave the door.
“Your name, what is your name?” Zoe asked.
“Camilla... Martins,” she said, eyes wide, still on the door. “He’s going to come for me.” She sucked in a breath.
“Look at me,” Zoe said, surprised by how calm she sounded. “The police are on their way; the sheriff will be here in a few minutes. You’re going to be okay,” she said. “I’m going to put these towels on your stomach and press down to stop the bleeding. Okay?”
The woman stared at the door, her breaths short and erratic, her hands clutching the ends of the armchair, nails digging in like she was preparing to run again if she had to.
Zoe didn’t know if the woman had heard her, and part of her was worried Camilla might attack her if she tried to touch her. But when Camilla gave a strained cough and blood spurted from a wound, Zoe knew she didn’t have a choice—she was running out of time.
She laid a towel over her and gently pressed down, talking to Camilla as she did. Camilla didn’t attack her, but she didn’t relax either. Her eyes never left the door.
It didn’t take long for the blood to seep through the towel and cover her hands. Zoe was surprised Camilla was still awake, still alive. She wondered how much blood she’d lost while running here.
Zoe paused. She couldn’t have run that far in this state—and that meant she’d been attacked close to Zoe’s house.
A bang at the door startled her and she jumped.
Camilla stilled, like she’d been frozen solid in a second.
“Zoe, it’s Mitch!”
CHAPTER10
ZOE
Zoe exhaled the breath she’d been holding.
“The sheriff,” she explained before she ran to the door. Her hands slipped on the lock as she tried to turn it and her stomach rolled as she saw they were coated in blood. She quickly wiped her hands on her jeans and tried again, successfully unlocking the door.
She swung it open and Mitch stepped inside, locking it behind him.
“Her name is Camilla,” Zoe said as Mitch rushed toward her.
“Medics will be here in a minute,” he said. Only then did Zoe realize he had his weapon ready in his hand. He looked back at her.
“Please stay away from the door,” he said, and she quickly moved toward him.
“Camilla, I’m Mitch, the sheriff,” he said, taking her hand, gently squeezing it. “You’re safe now,” he said. Zoe saw his gaze drop to the bloodied towels on her abdomen.
“Do you know who did this to you?” he asked, gently but firmly.
She looked at him with unfocused eyes and Zoe looked toward the door. They needed the medics now. Mitch must’ve had the same thought, because he pressed down on the towels and the blood seemed to make a squelching noise.
“Peter...” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “Peter...”
“Peter who?” Mitch asked.
“Peter Buh...” Her eyes rolled back in her head.
“Help me get her on the floor!” he yelled and Zoe rushed to his side.
They laid her on the floor. “Put pressure on her wounds!” Mitch said as he began compressing her chest, resuscitating her.
Another bang at the door followed by three knocks stole Zoe’s attention.
