Her head felt funny as soon as he’d said her name. It took a moment for it to clear. “How do you know my name?”
“Let’s get you to my car and then we can talk about it.”
“Oh sure,” she said, “I get into cars with strangers all the time.”
“Tonight, you’ll have to.”
“Do you know what those things were?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t mean the rats.”
“Not here,” he said. He slowed down when she almost tripped, not by much, but enough that she could keep up in her heels. “We can talk about it in the car,” he repeated. He looked down at her, somehow managing not to trip like she would have. Those eyes of his meant business; they held her prisoner. Then they began slowly to soften and he sighed. “I will tell you, that yes, I do believe you.”
She hadn’t even told him yet.
“Who are you?” she said again. “And how do you know my name?”
He didn’t answer her. They stopped at a green Jaguar.
“That’s your car?” she asked.
“Yes.” He opened the passenger side door to let her in.
“Nice car,” she managed.
She was feeling a little woozy. Her hands were shaking. Oh, wonderful, now she was going into shock.
“I might pass out,” she slurred.
Catherine took one step off the sidewalk, and then her vision dimmed and narrowed.
Darcy Branwyn 
Leave a comment