She looked through the open front door. A car was parked outside. The cold night air was clearing her brain. She knew that car. Shakily, she pushed hair back from her eyes and looked at the newcomer again.
'Are you okay?' Connel's deep voice asked, and she laughed wildly at the question.
Hoarsely, she whispered, 'I'll live!'
'You're lucky I got here in time! I'll ring the police.'
'Wait…' she said, touching his arm, and he halted, looking down at her with a frown.
'Where's Larry? Has he gone?' she asked, and the dark eyes narrowed, hard as obsidian.
'You know him?'
She nodded, and his mouth tightened.
After a pause, he glanced sideways and her gaze followed his. Larry lay on the floor at the foot of the stairs, on his back. His eyes were shut but his mouth was open.
'What's the matter with him?'
'I knocked him out,' Connel curtly told her.
'He looks dead!'
'He isn't.'
She was worried. 'Are you sure?'
'If you'd stop talking for a second you'd hear him breathing.'
She didn't like the aggressive tone, or the way he was looking at her. In the silence between them she heard Larry breathing like a boiling kettle through his open mouth, and looked at him with uneasy concern.
'He sounds odd—how hard did you hit him?'
Scowling, Connel said, 'When I got here I found him trying to kill you—and when I dragged him away from you he turned on me so I punched him in the face. I simply hit him hard enough to make sure he cooled down. Now, if you've finished your inquisition, I'll go and ring the police.' He turned to walk towards the sitting room and she shouted after him.
'No!'
In mid-step he stopped and looked back at her, black brows lifting incredulously.
'What do you mean—no? He was trying to strangle you. The man's dangerous. If you don't call the police he'll try again, and you may not be so lucky next time. If I hadn't turned up when I did you could be dead by now.'
His raised voice had penetrated the fog in Larry's brain; he stirred, groaned, began to struggle into a sitting position, holding his jaw.
'W…w…what happened?' Blearily, he looked around and saw them; Zoe watched awareness flash into his eyes. 'Oh…' he moaned, as his gaze moved on to take in Connel's frowning face. Taking a deep breath, Larry grunted, 'Was it him who hit me?'
'Yes, and I'll do it again if you make the wrong move,' threatened Connel in a voice that meant every word he said.
Larry gingerly rubbed his jawline. 'It feels as if I've been hit by a truck. I'm going to sue you, mister! You could have killed me, hitting me that hard!'
'You can tell the police when they get here,' snapped Connel.
Alarm came into Larry's eyes. 'Police?' He staggered to his feet. 'You…you've rung the police?' He looked reproachfully at Zoe. 'You didn't? How could you when you know I'd never have hurt you. I love you; you know I do. Haven't you done enough to me? Making me love you, then dumping me, refusing to see me, or even talk to me? You drive me insane, and then you call the police—you're determined to ruin my life, aren't you? You won't be satisfied until I'm in prison, out of a job, my whole life destroyed!'
Wearily, Zoe said, 'Oh, go away, Larry. He hasn't rung the police. But if you ever come near me again, I will. No more phone calls or letters! And never, ever, come to my home again unless you want to end up in a cell.'
'Zoe…don't be so heartless!' he groaned, coming towards her with his hands held out. 'I'm sorry…forgive me…I love you…'
She looked at him scornfully. 'No, you don't, or you wouldn't have tried to strangle me. If you love someone, you don't want to hurt them. You love yourself, Larry. Not me.'