Chapter 43
Nancy’s heart pounded as the footsteps grew closer. She had no intention of opening the door, but dying in her new home in the suburbs was not on her to–do list, either. After all, she had gone through hell and high water to escape her life in Cyrus, a small, suffocating town where everyone knew each other’s business.
With no time to hesitate, Nancy flung open the door. The moment she did, a figure burst through, enveloping her in a firm embrace. Judson, a man with the arms one would expect to see on a lumberjack, scooped Nancy up and kicked the door shut with a resounding thud.
Suspended in the air, Nancy found herself almost entirely supported by Judson. The back of her head rested against his chest, and she could feel the solid press of his muscles even through his shirt.
Startled, Nancy was about to protest when the footsteps outside made her swallow her words. It felt like an eternity before the footsteps faded. Finally, Nancy and Judson exhaled, and the next moment, Nancy was prying Judson’s hands from her waist. “Put me down!”
Judson obliged, setting her gently on the ground. Nancy backed away immediately, creating a safe distance between them.
“I don’t care who you are. Please leave,” Nancy said, her voice firm.
Judson didn’t say a word. He just cracked open the door and peeked outside. Something out there made him spin around to talk to Nancy, but before he could get a word out, she grabbed a vase and whacked it over his head. Quick and clean, no second thoughts.
“You…” Judson’s eyes widened in shock before he slumped to the ground, unconscious.
Looking down at the man lying on her floor, Nancy felt frustrated. She had left Cyrus to avoid being bullied, only to face this ordeal abroad. Was she that easy a target?
With a clenched fist, Nancy was about to drag Judson outside when footsteps approached again.
“Is that blood?”
Nancy’s heart raced. She held her breath, listening as the voices moved away, convinced the villa was empty. With the immediate danger gone, Nancy faced a dilemma. She couldn’t just leave Judson there, especially not with a head wound. After some hesitation, she fetched a first aid kit and began to tend to his injuries.
As she dressed the wound, Nancy couldn’t help but notice Judson’s striking features. She had seen handsome men before, Cyrus included, but Judson was different–youthful, with flawless features and a lean, muscular build. However, his looks were the least of her concerns. She only hoped he wouldn’t die in her house.
About to leave, Nancy stumbled upon a silver handgun. It was compact and felt perfect in her hand. Considering Judson owed her for saving his life, taking the gun for self–defense seemed fair, especially in a foreign country where she felt unprotected.
Having dealt with that, Nancy, worn out from the night’s events, headed to the bathroom to take a shower. She had thought her first night in this new country would be sleepless, but looking after Judson had worn her out. She fell asleep when her head hit the pillow, not even dreaming of Cyrus.
The following morning, Nancy woke up feeling refreshed. Stretching contentedly, she remembered the man still lying in her hallway.
