He only hesitates for one, maybe two seconds before he bolts off into the darkness, the sound of his feet thumping on the hard ground and eventually receding into the distance.
“Get over here, Cat,” Lorelei says, her gun now swung slightly toward the way in which my attacker just ran. Well, that answers the question… she knows who I am.
I bend to grab my purse, but Lorelei barks at me, “Over here now. I can’t see much past you and I don’t know if he’s still out there.”
There’s no hesitation because the thought he might be back propels me as much as Lorelei’s commanding voice. I run straight at her, confident she won’t shoot me.
She nods at her car and says, “Get in the back with Amber.”
I don’t argue but do exactly as she says. When the door is closed, she slowly backs into the driver’s seat and shuts the door. With amazing efficiency, she sets the gun on the dashboard, reaches into her purse to grab her phone, and manages to start the car. Handing the phone to me, she says, “Call 911. Tell them what happened and the address. Tell them I’m leaving and going to drive the block until they get here.”
“Why?” I ask as I take the phone.
“Because I have no clue if there are others, possibly in the house or apartment,” she says as she shifts the car into reverse.
Brilliant. Would have never thought of that.
I turn to look at Amber sitting beside me in the car seat. Beautiful little girl with golden blonde hair pulled into a ponytail, clutching a teddy bear. I give her a tremulous smile. “Hi.”
She looks at me with solemn eyes, understanding that something scary is going on here.
Then I turn back to Lorelei’s phone to call the police.
“Can you remember anything else?” Detective Blanton asks as he sits beside me on the couch in Lorelei and Jake’s living room, typing notes on an iPad. He’s a nice-looking man… tall with dark hair peppered lightly with gray, which tells me he’s been a cop for a while.
“I think that’s it,” I say, my brain trying to sift through all the details, but I feel they’re all muddied from the fear and adrenaline. It took me no more than five minutes to recount to him what happened the first time, and that’s only because the entire thing couldn’t have lasted more than two minutes, although it felt like twenty.
He had me go through my story three more times, each time managing to pull out some other detail I had forgotten. It makes me wonder what else I’ve failed to tell him.
He doesn’t say anything, just continues to type in some notes.
The front door opens, but I don’t flinch as police officers have been coming in and out as they search for evidence, making sure that no one was inside the house. I turn my head, surprised to see Rand standing there, his face pale and his jaw locked. He sidesteps a cop, rounds the loveseat, and heads straight toward me. I stand up, shuffle to the side of the coffee table, and meet him at mid-room where his arms are around me and he’s pushing my face into his chest.
“Jesus,” he growls as he squeezes me breathlessly. “Thank fuck for Lorelei.”
I nod, because yes… thank fuck. As soon as we returned to the house, only after Lorelei saw the first cruiser pull into the driveway, she called Rand and Jake to let them know what happened. I had no idea what she said because I was immediately pulled into an interview to try to get my statement while details were fresh and untainted. Three other cars pulled up within moments, with two officers heading off into the darkness to see if they’d luck out and find the guy who attacked me. An ambulance arrived moments later.
But here Rand is now with his arms banded around me tightly and for the first time since the man grabbed me, I feel a measure of safety.
Rand pulls back slightly and looks down at me. “Are you okay? Do you need to go to the hospital?”
Hospital?
Hospital!
“How’s Tarryn?” I blurt out, my hand coming to his chest. “Is she alright?”
Rand rolls his eyes and glares at me, pulling me back to the couch where he pushes me down and then squats in front of me.
“Forget about her,” he says as his fingers come to flutter over the white bandage on my throat that the paramedic put on me. He said it wasn’t deep at all and should heal up fine, so I refused a trip to the hospital. “He cut you?”
“I’m fine,” I say, rather than confirm the obvious. It turns out he didn’t cut me all that bad. A thin slice… more a scratch really, that produced a single large bead of blood that trickled down my chest.
Lorelei walks out of the back hallway and smiles at Rand and me. “I just put Amber down. Can I get anyone coffee?”
The detective looks up from his iPad and says, “I’d actually like to get your statement, Mrs. Gearhart.”
Lorelei nods and sits down on the loveseat while Rand pushes up off the floor to pace while she tells her story. He mutters and curses to himself as he listens, and I’m thankful he wasn’t here when I told the cop what happened, as it was far more unpleasant than Lorelei valiantly chasing him off with a gun.