AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“No!” I scream, hurling myself to cover Clayton. I don’t know how the hell I‘ve done it, but I manage to knock the six-foot-three hunk down onto the pavement—me cocooning him like I was his mother.
“Whoa… Isabelle!” Even the man himself seems baffled.
I’m almost five-foot-nine, but against his mass which is mostly muscle, this gazelle shouldn’t have had a chance against the full-grown grizzly.
“Are you okay?” I pat him all over with my trembling hands, trying to find any sign of injury. God forbid, I won’t forgive myself if anything happens to him because of me.
“Whoa, whoa, areyouokay?” His thick brows arch low as he tightens his gaze. He’s so close to me I can feel his breath.
What would I do to have those lips on mine again? Not to wake me up from unconsciousness, but to free me from the invisible prison Don has sentenced me to?
And more?
I escape his touch to stretch my neck, trying to catch where the motorbike is going. But it has disappeared among the traffic.
Clayton examines me.
“I’m fine!” I get up, and so does he.
“What’s wrong?”
I squint, planting my focus far into the road. “That man…” I murmur, recalling the disturbing scene that must’ve just lasted for seconds.
That man’s hand… his glove was disturbed when he drew his hand off his jacket pocket. I saw some sort of green tattoo on the top of his palm.
I draw a shuddering breath. “He had a knife.”
I inspect myself, back and front, hoping to see a cut on me or my clothes. Not that I’m worried about being wounded, I want to prove that motorcycle man was real.
Dismally, not even a scratch!
Clayton is left baffled as he watches my angsty move. I say to him, “Clayton, listen. You can’t see me anymore.”
“Do you think someone was trying to kill me?”
“I don’t know! It could be just a warning. It could be just Don’s game. But I’m not about to test it!”
“Did you see his face?”
“No, he was wearing a dark helmet.”
“Isabelle, I can take care of myself—”
“Did you see him coming at you?” I challenge his confidence. “Did you?”
“No, but I would’ve reacted. And he could’ve been just—”
“Don’t say he could’ve been just a thief!”
His groan affirms that was what he was thinking. “Isabelle, I’m here because I chose to see you, and I’m not afraid of Donovan Fletcher!”
“You should be. He’s watching.”
“Let him.”
I cast him an astute gaze. “What do you know about Donovan Fletcher?”
“Enough to know that his attention is not on you at the moment.”
