Page 32 of Flash Point

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Before she could twist around, he shoved her into the driver’s compartment again. Her right cheek struck the center console and her dominant arm got wedged between her body and the seat.

A blade pressed into the hollow below her jawline. He dug the knife into her flesh enough to cause a warm trickle of blood to coil its way around her throat.

“Be still,” he growled, pressing his forearm harder against her shoulders.

“Who are you?”

“Someone you shouldn’t have messed with.”

Liv took stock of her body, searching for a way to disarm him. But with his arm pinning her down and his foot anchored against the back of her left knee, she was trapped. There was no escape, no way to shape this to her advantage. “What do you want?”

“To gut you right now for all the trouble you’ve caused us.”

“Hey!”a man’s distant voice called. “What’s going on?”

Her assailant stilled, then spoke rapidly in her ear. “Keep your nose out of our business, or I’ll have to pay a visit to 217 Western Avenue.” He gave her a shove for emphasis, making her wince. “Don’t you forget it.”

The pressure-pain disappeared, as did her attacker.

“Stop!”Running feet tore past her, across the asphalt parking lot.

Hanging half in and half out of the vehicle, she pushed up until she was standing on unsteady legs.

“Ma’am, are you okay?”

She latched onto the man’s voice. A rich, soothing, familiar voice.

Zeke.

“Liv?” He was at her side, steadying her with one hand beneath her elbow. “What the hell’s going on?”

“I don't know.”

217 Western Avenue.

There was something familiar about the address. Something right. . . there. . .

217

21— Terror ripped through her. “I have to go.” She pushed out of his hold and bent to pick up her purse and laptop bag from where they had fallen at her feet.

Pain knifed through her head, and a wave of dizziness made her stumble into her door.

“Whoa.” He gently probed the back of her head. “You’re not going anywhere. I’m calling for an ambulance.”

“No, you’re not.”

When she made to bend down again, he snatched up her belongings. “Hospital. I’ll drive.”

Panic fractured the small amount of self-control she held on to. “Give me my fucking keys, Zeke.”


Tags: Tracey Devlyn Paranormal