Page 30 of My Damaged Protector

“I fought off a wild dog.”

The stunned look on his face tells me I haven't lost my spunk just yet.

Shaking my head, I begin to walk away from him. I'm done here for today.

I hear his hurried footsteps behind me just a few minutes after I started walking, and I stop to glance back at him.

“Are you leaving?” he asks me.

“Yeah, I think I've seen enough,” I say.

“Will you be staying in town for a while?”

I haven't allowed myself to think about if I'm going to stay or leave till now. But now that he's asking, I feel the answer leaves me without having to think much.

“I'm going back to New Jersey tomorrow,” I say and turn to walk away from him.

I've had enough of this town.

When I get into my truck and drive away from the estate, there's only one person I'm yearning to see just one last time before I leave, but I'm too much of a coward to call her.

10

SARAH

Writing has never been sogood. Never felt better.

With every word I type, I am transported to each moment it happened. Exactly how it happened, the emotions I felt in that moment, and then I type it, adding some creative flair to make it more elaborate, of course.

This will never get old.

No matter what.

Everything can be taken away from me or depart from me, but not this, never this.

And as tasking, demanding, and sometimes even draining as my job can get, especially with writer’s block, you'd never see me wishing I was doing another job. Why would I?

My life was never better until I found writing, or more like it found me really because every time I think about how I became a writer, I'm still in awe of how quickly things turned around for me.

And it all started with Ian.

Most of the things in my life started with him.

I guess now that I'm putting it all down in a book, it finally feels right. Of course, I know how dangerous this can be, too.Giving people a free pass into my life and head is not exactly the most ideal thing, but if there's one thing I've promised my audience, it's to never hold back a story worth telling.

And I'm not in the habit of going back on my word.

Taking a sip of my fourth cup of coffee for the day, my phone dings for the umpteenth time in the past hour. Someone must be really desperate to get through to me.

Too bad I'm in a ‘do not disturb’ mood.

I get like this when I'm writing, and nothing can pull me out of it except if I decide to allow it.

As if prompted by the thought, my phone starts to ring and at a glance I see it's my aunt.

Groaning, I debate against answering.

There can't be anything urgent she has to tell me, right?

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