Page 155 of Love Me Stalk Me
She's here.
And Evan didn't get to take that from her. Even still, she should still do a kit, because if he even got near her with his rancid cock, I want him put behind bars for life. I'll pull connections inside so he knows just what it feels like to have someoneforce themselves on you.
And it won't just be once.
I'll drain my entire bank account to make sure it happens to him day in, day out. For the rest of his miserable life.
The other guys rush in. Ramirez is first. His eyes scan the scene, landing on Evan sprawled out cold on the floor before flicking to me, then Izzy.
"Jesus," he breathes.
"She's okay," I say, my voice sounding more controlled than I actually feel. "Get that piece of shit in cuffs. Call the cops."
Ramirez and another guy move to restrain Evan's unconscious body, pulling out zip ties for now, securing his wrists behind his back.
"Does anyone have smelling salts?" My voice doesn’t betray the rage I feel underneath.
One of the guys pulls a small vial from his vest pocket, tossing it to me. I catch it easily, sliding it into mine.
Then I stand, lifting Izzy into my arms. She barely stirs, her body slack against my chest. Her weight is substantial but comforting—a reminder that she's here, she's real, she's safe now. "She doesn't need to see any of this," I mutter. "I'm taking her to Amanda's office. Handle the rest."
They nod as I walk out, holding Izzy close.
Amanda's door swings open before I even knock, and she's already talking.
"Well, well, if it isn't?—"
Her eyes drop to Izzy in my arms, and concern floods her features.
"What the fuck happened?" she demands, stepping forward, almost clawing at me. "The fuck did you do to my best friend?"
"Cut it out, Amanda," I snap, dodging her hands. "I didn't hurt her."
Her eyes flare with anger, her mouth already opening to argue. And then I say it. "I would never hurt a woman—let alone MY woman."
It slips out before I even register I said it.
Amanda freezes.
Her mouth snaps shut.
I ignore my own words and keep my focus on what actually fucking matters.
"It was Evan," I tell her, voice tight with restraint. "She broke up with him and he attacked her. He's being arrested down the hall. I didn't want her to wakeup and see that."
Amanda stares at me for a long second, then exhales, pressing her lips together.
"She should see a doctor," she says, voice quieter now.
"Yes," I say. "But, in the meantime, I'm a licensed paramedic."
Amanda hesitates, but after a second, she nods.
"Fine," she mutters. "I'll leave you alone, but if anything seems off?—"
"I'll call you," I finish for her.
She nods again, reluctant but trusting. And then she steps out of the room, closing the door behind her.
