Page 59 of Ruined By Protection
I turn slowly, scanning the store again. A man browsing ties. Two women by the shoes. The sales associate helping Lucrezia. Matteo by the door.
Nothing unusual. No one looking at me.
Yet the sensation crawls over me like insects, making me shiver violently.
He found me. Elliott found me.
The thought slams into me with such force that I gasp. My vision narrows, tunneling to pinpricks of light. I can't breathe. I can't think.
I half stumble to one side, colliding with a display. Clothes tumble to the floor but I barely notice. My eyes dart frantically around the store, searching for him in every shadow, behind every rack.
Breathe. Control. Maintain control.
But panic rises like a tide, drowning rational thought. My chest heaves as I struggle for air.
Suddenly, hands grip my shoulders from behind. Large, male hands.
I scream, twisting away violently. "No!"
"Hazel, it's me." Matteo's voice cuts through the fog of terror.
But I can't stop. Can't process. All I feel are hands on me, restraining me.
"Don't touch me!" I shriek, backing away. "Don't touch me!"
Matteo immediately steps back, raising his hands. "Okay. I'm not touching you. You're safe."
My back hits the wall and I slide down it, hugging my knees to my chest. The store has gone silent, everyone staring.
"Hazel." Lucrezia's voice now, gentle and close. She kneels beside me, not touching, just present. "You're okay. You're with us."
I stare at her, trying to anchor myself in her calm eyes.
"He's not here," she continues, her voice steady. "You're safe."
Slowly, the panic recedes enough for me to draw a proper breath. I realize I'm trembling violently, my clothes damp with cold sweat.
"I'm sorry," I whisper, mortified by my outburst.
Lucrezia shakes her head and carefully, telegraphing her movements, puts her arms around me. "Don't apologize. Not ever for this."
I lean into her embrace, letting her warmth seep into my frozen limbs. Over her shoulder I see Matteo watching us, his face a mask of restrained fury.
"I thought—" I swallow hard. "I felt like someone was watching me."
"Just us," Lucrezia assures me, stroking my hair. "Just us."
Matteo
I'm across the boutique in three strides, every muscle in my body rigid with fury. Seeing Hazel collapse—trembling, terrified, trapped in some private hell—ignites something primal inside me. A killing rage.
"Get the car," I tell Lucrezia, my voice barely recognizable. I fish the keys from my pocket and toss them to her without looking. "Pull it up in the back alley."
She catches them one-handed, her eyes flicking between me and Hazel. "What about?—"
"Now." The word comes out like a gunshot.
Lucrezia nods once and hurries toward the exit, stopping only to whisper something to the sales associate, who immediately begins ushering the other customers toward the front of the store.
