Total pages in book: 215
Estimated words: 217988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1090(@200wpm)___ 872(@250wpm)___ 727(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 217988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1090(@200wpm)___ 872(@250wpm)___ 727(@300wpm)
It had a huge scrape up the side. And had the tires been slashed?
Holy. Heck.
Was this . . . did this have anything to do with her?
But no, that was a silly thought.
Brad suddenly looked around and ridiculously, she found herself ducking. The last thing she wanted was to talk to him again.
She needed to get out of here. All she wanted was to get home, hide under the covers and pretend none of this had ever happened.
Shaking, she put the car into drive and headed out of the parking lot. Trembles shook her, making it hard for her to breathe.
What was wrong with her?
Panic attack.
Fuck. Just great. She knew she shouldn’t have driven her car in this state. The run-in with Brad and Laura, combined with her chat with Frank . . . yeah, she was having a delayed reaction.
Air struggled to get in and out of her lungs and her vision started to blur. She needed to pull off the road. Seeing an exit, she drew her car to the side.
But she misjudged where the parking space was and ended up on the sidewalk, the front of her car crunching against a sign she couldn’t read in the near dark. She fell against the seatbelt. Scrambling for it, she managed to undo it, then she opened her door and slid out onto the sidewalk on her ass. She glanced around, but she was in a quiet area. Seemed she’d managed to pull off into a parking lot next to a large sports complex.
In. Hold. Out.
Shit. Shit.
What did she do? She couldn’t think. She needed help. She needed Freddy Fox. Where was her handbag? Freddy Fox was in her handbag and she had to have him.
Right. Now.
Only problem was, she couldn’t seem to get onto her feet. Her legs were noodles. She vaguely heard a car drive up. The sound of a door slamming shut.
“Bunny? Fuck. What happened?”
She shied away from the man reaching down toward her. “No! No, don’t touch me! Don’t hurt me!”
“Bunny, hush. I need to make sure you’re unharmed. Hush. You know who I am. You know I won’t hurt you. Let me touch you.”
Couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t breathe.
“Take a deep breath, Bunny. Hold. That’s it. Now out.”
Bunny.
That name infiltrated the panic that had a tight hold on her.
Only one person called her that.
She tried to clear her blurry vision, to look up at him. “H-hero?”
“It is I, or is it me? Who knows? The English language can be complicated sometimes. It certainly was to learn it.”
English wasn’t his first language? He didn’t have an accent.
“H-hero.”
“What happened, Bunny? Where are you hurt?” Hands ran carefully over her body. “Did you hit your head?”
“N-no. N-not hurt. Panic a-attack.”
“Listen to me, Bunny.” He placed a hand on her chest. “I want you to take a slow breath in and hold it. No, no, not short and sharp. Someone is being naughty and not listening. Nice and slow. That’s better. Good Bunny. Good girl.”
Damn.
Those words might have sent a shiver of appreciation and need through her . . . if she wasn’t in the middle of a panic attack.
“Come on, be a good girl and listen to your hero. That’s it. Now hold. And let it out. Now, Bunny, that was naughty, you let it out too quickly. Someone wants their bottom spanked. In. Hold. Out. Good girl. You did it that time. In. Hold. Out.”
Gradually, her breathing slowed and the rest of his words infiltrated her foggy brain. She felt exhausted. Completely spent.
“I don’t wanna spanking.”
“Then be a good girl and do as you’re told.”
“You . . . I . . . do you always talk to people like that?”
“No, not always. But you don’t really want to hear how I speak to most people. That’s not for your ears, baby girl.”
Oh, she liked that. Being called baby girl.
She closed her eyes, just concentrating on her breathing.
“Tell me what happened,” he demanded.
“Nothing.”
“Even I know I can’t smack your butt after you’ve been in a car accident, but don’t push me.”
A shiver ran through her. But it wasn’t one of fear. Nope. She always thought she’d be scared of men after what happened to her. But she wasn’t afraid of her Hero. Or of Brody. Heck, she wasn’t even afraid of Frank.
“Why are you driving such an old car, anyway?”
“That’s a bit of a rude question, don’t you think?”
“This car is tiny. It’s not very safe. You’d be better in something with a better safety rating. Like a Hummer.”
“A Hummer? I can’t drive a Hummer!”
“Why not? Far safer than this. Yes, you should get a Hummer.”
“Are you always this bossy?”
“Not always. Tell me what happened.”
“Run-in with my ex.”
“Is that so? He upset you? Is he the reason for your panic attack?”
Her eyes shot open to meet his, but his cap was pulled too low. It was now fully dark and her vision was still blurry, making it hard to see.