Page 41 of Sexted By a Stranger
Three steps. Two steps. One step.
The bulletproof car was within reach.
Lennox had already rushed to the car, yanking open the rear door.
Just one more step. Just get her into this steel fortress.
At this critical instant, an instinct honed from countless brushes with death, sensing lethal danger, drove into my marrow like an ice pick.
From the corner of my eye, deep within an unnervingly narrow alley, a figure almost merged with shadows, black gun rising at a vicious angle, silent and deadly.
No warning flash, no gunshot, just a barely visible death point aimed at Sheila's exposed side between the car door and my body.
Thought ceased completely.
Only the most primal instinct remained in my soul's depths.
Protect her.
At any cost.
I twisted my body to the extreme, marshaling every ounce of strength, forcibly turning what had been shielding her side into a solid wall between her and that death ray.
A sickening, dull sound of tearing flesh.
My left shoulder blade felt hammered by a red-hot sledge. Indescribable agony exploded, massive impact making my body lurch violently.
But momentum didn't stop—instead, using that force, I exploded with a terrifying speed.
With my last strength, I shoved the shocked, speechless Sheila deeper into the open car door.
"Get in!"
Then I dove after her, using remaining willpower to pin her in the safety triangle between my body and the car seat. Body slamming into seats brought fresh waves of tearing pain.
"Luca!"
After the door closed, Sheila trembled out from under me, face panicked.
"I'm fine."
I stroked her face.
"I-I'll stop the bleeding!"
Her teeth chattered, but she dragged out the first aid kit from under the seat with all her strength.
I shook my head. Dizziness washed over me.
The last thing I sensed was her terrified, tearful cries.
Consciousness floated between cold and heat.
Twilight street corner. Warm golden-red sunset.
She still stood there, cream dress, chestnut hair lifting in the breeze. Amber eyes full of smiles, looking at me.
Bang—.
