Page 59 of The Woman in the Hollow
“I’m here.”
A loud chugging sound outside had me pulling my shoulders up by my ears.
It was probably just an eighteen-wheeler or work truck making its way down the highway. But it might as well have been the attacker busting down the door by the way my body reacted.
“I’m all of eight minutes away,” Dante told me.
“Okay.”
“Just stay hidden until I get there.”
No problem there.
I wasn’t capable of moving. Save for trembling. It seemed like even my hair was shaking.
“Six minutes,” Dante updated me.
Then five. Four. Three.
He skipped the last two.
There was a jiggling of the door, dragging a strangled yelp out of me.
“It’s me.” He said it in my ear, but also in the shop as he let himself in.
My finger slid to the off button, the little bleep almost deafening in the quiet space.
Dante’s footsteps rushed around the counter.
I saw a flash of metal and I registered the barrel of a gun as Dante set it on top of the counter before crouching down in front of where I was wedged against the desk.
“Hey, honey,” he said, voice singsong, like he was trying to soothe an injured animal.
I guess that was exactly what I was right then.
“Is he…”
“Don’t worry about that right now, okay? Dom and my brothers are on that. No one’s gonna get close to you again.”
Vaguely, I registered that he was already dressed for the day, his suit crisp, his shave fresh.
“Can you come out of here?” he asked, gentle, not demanding it.
I knew I needed to move, had to get cleaned up. There might even be glass in my hands.
But I found myself shaking my head instead.
“Alright,” he said, dropping down next to me. “That’s fine. I’m just gonna sit with you here for a minute. If that’s alright.”
“I don’t want to be alone.” My voice was as jangly as my bones felt.
“Good. Because I don’t want to leave you.”
“I’m all dirty,” I said as his arm moved around my back.
“I have soap.”
“Your suit.”
