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“I’m fine, Thane! Go back to the party,” I call out without turningaround.
When he doesn’t respond, I glance over my shoulder to yell at him again.
But it’s not Thane following me.
It’s a shorter, smaller figure in a dark hoodie. Even if I had my glasses on, it’s too dark to make out his facial features.
I look straight ahead again, my pulse picking up while I try to figure out what to do. First and foremost, I decide not to engage with the random stranger to ask who they are or what they want.
Instead, I pick up the pace, trying to put more distance between us as I head toward…well, I’m not sure where. There’s no way to go back to the party unless I want to turn around and confront the stranger.
So, as soon as I reach the parking lot, I veer off to the left toward my car that Thane drove. My best option at the moment is jumping inside and locking the doors while I call my dad to tell him to get his ass out here.
Unfortunately, I’m not coordinated enough to use my phone while speed walking in heels across uneven, rocky terrain. Combined with the fact I’m nearsighted without my glasses, my entire perspective on the world is thrown off. Hell, I’m not even all that surprised when I lose my balance.
High heels on rocks are always a bad idea. Even worse since I’m a little tipsy.
When I go down, it’s not the least bit graceful. My phone hits the ground a second before my face. My temple scrapes against the hard, jagged gravel, along with my palms and kneecaps, which belatedly stop me from slamming my entire face into the ground.
I vaguely recognize the ripping sound of fabric. My dress was already on the snug side. I could barely sit down in it, so falling down without sucking in my gut probably ripped the side open. The ruined dress, phone, and busted head are the least of my concerns right now, though.
Knowing it’ll take more than a handful of seconds to get to myfeet again, I sit back on my heels and whip my head around to watch in slow motion as the figure stalks toward me.
Great. I’m gonna die like one of those idiots in a scary movie who get captured by the monster when they trip over a tree limb in the woods.
While I’m watching him come closer, he says one word that sounds like my name.
“Whoa! Are you okay?”
I scream and cover my head with my arms when I get startled by the masculine voice right in front of me. A spotlight shines down on me, so when I peek up at him, I can’t see his face to tell who this man is either. All I know is that he’s a lot bigger and close enough to reach out and touch his shoes.
I’m definitely dead.
The two must be working together, corralling me…
No, wait. The one towering above me asked if I was okay, didn’t he?
When I glance behind me again…there’s no hooded man approaching us. No retreating footsteps either. Nothing.
I must be losing my mind. Or had more to drink than I realized.
“Can I help you up?” the voice above me asks.
“I-I don’t know,” I answer honestly as I squint away from the light.
“It looks like your head is bleeding.”
There’s another harsh sound, like fabric ripping. The man kneels in front of me, then presses the fabric to the throbbing at my temple.
“Ow.”
“Sorry.” The voice actually does sound apologetic. It’s also smooth and deep. Comforting.
I take a deep, relieved breath and inhale the scent of leather.
This guy is wearing a biker cut. He must be one of my dad’s men.
If I wasn’t still under the spotlight and could see his face, I may even recognize him.
