She staggered onto the balcony but didn’t get more than a few steps before Del Vecchio caught her arm and roughly spun her around, slamming her back against the stone wall.
“Where the hell did you think you were going to go out here, bitch?”
She stared into Del Vecchio’s soulless eyes, wondering if he would take pity on her and kill her quickly. But from the evil grin he gave her as he pressed the knife to her throat, she knew he was going to make her death as painful as he had undoubtedly made Darla’s.
The image of her friend lying dead in a pool of blood fueled Presley’s determination and she raked her nails across his face before he could stop her. Del Vecchio cursed, lifting a hand to his eye even as blood ran down his face. Seizing the opportunity, Presley shoved him away from her as hard as she could. He stumbled back, arms windmilling as he tried to keep his balance, but he slipped anyway, and she watched in shock as he tumbled backward over the railing with a terrified yell.
Presley wanted to check to make sure Del Vecchio had fallen to his death and wasn’t hanging from the railing waiting to pull himself up so he could come after her again, but she didn’t trust her trembling legs anywhere near the edge. Weaker now than she’d been before, she turned and stumbled back into the apartment.
She barely made it inside the door before collapsing. She lay there, willing herself to move, but nothing on her body seemed to work. It was all she could do to breathe. Even that seemed to be more trouble than it was worth. She thought about simply closing her eyes and giving up, but then she caught sight of Darla’s body and knew she didn’t want to die. She forced herself to take one more breath, then another one after that.
And another.
And another.
The next thing she knew, two paramedics were at her side.
“She’s coming to,” one of them said. He leaned closer, his voice reassuring. “You’re going to be okay. Just hang on.”
She opened her mouth to reply but couldn’t speak. Suddenly, she couldn’t seem to get enough air. The more she struggled, the harder it was to breathe.
“Shit, we’re losing her,” the paramedic said. “Stay with me. Just stay with me.”
Presley tried, but the darkness that threatened to engulf her earlier was too strong to fight anymore and she finally gave in and let it take her.
CHAPTER ONE
Five Weeks Later
PRESLEY BOLTED UPRIGHT in bed, her screams echoing in the small room. She sat there trembling, her breath coming in huge gasps. She swallowed hard, wincing at how her throat felt. Damn nightmares. The psychiatrist at the hospital assured her they were normal after an event as traumatic as the one she’d gone through and that they’d go away with time. She wasn’t so sure. Not when she saw Carson Del Vecchio’s face every time she closed her eyes. A shiver ran down her back at the memory of that asshole and what he’d done to Darla—and to her.
Blinking back tears, she glanced at the clock on the bedside table and saw that it was a little after five A.M. She considered trying to go back to sleep but decided not to bother. She’d only end up staring at the ceiling and thinking about Darla and what her deranged ex-boyfriend had done to her. Or start looking over her shoulder for things that couldn’t possibly be there. Things she shouldn’t possibly be able to see.
Shuddering, Presley pushed back the blanket and got out of bed, then padded barefoot into the adjoining bathroom. She stared at her reflection in the mirror above the vanity with a frown. Her long, blond hair was a wild tangle and there were dark circles under her blue eyes. In a word, she looked like crap.
She debated whether to do some yoga or not, but then decided to skip her usual morning workout and, head straight for the shower instead. While she loved yoga, there was something about water that never failed to relax her. Besides, liked to do yoga to music and she didn’t want to wake her sister up.
Taking off her tank top and shorts, she twisted her hair up and secured it with a clip, then stepped into the tub and turned on the shower. The warm water immediately relaxed her and she stood under the spray, letting it wash over her shoulders and down her back for a long time, refusing to let her mind go where it always wanted to lately, instead focusing on all the things she needed to when she finally went back to work. If she should ever get her crap together. She was a school counselor. How could she help her high school students when she couldn’t even help herself?
Sighing, she turned off the water and grabbed a towel off the rack. As she dried off on the bathmat in front of the tub, she deliberately avoided looking at the scar on her chest in the mirror. She was glad to see the dark circles under her eyes had almost completely disappeared. With the help of some beauty products, a little makeup, and a straight iron, no one would ever know she’d spent the night tossing and turning.
Throwing on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, she walked into the kitchen a little while later to find a note waiting for her on the table.
Presley,
One of the flight attendants on the London route called in sick, so I’m going to fill in. I’ll be gone for a few days, maybe more. I would have woken you before I left, but you looked like you were finally getting some sleep. I’ll call you later. If you don’t like being in the apartment alone, go stay with Mom and Dad, okay?
Jennifer
Presley cringed. While she loved her parents, if she stayed with them, her mom would give new meaning to the word hover. She could handle staying by herself until her sister got back.
Dropping the note back on the table, she dumped oatmeal in a bowl, then added sweetener and cinnamon and stuck it in the microwave. While she waited for it to heat, she opened her laptop and checked her email. Even though she’d talked to her parents on the phone last night, there was one from her mom, saying she knew Jennifer was working and asking if Presley wanted to come stay with them. Presley smiled despite herself. If her parents had their way, she’d have moved back home after Del Vecchio nearly killed her. She sent a reply, letting her mom and dad, thanking them for the offer and saying she was fine. She loved them for their concern, but she’d moved out when she left for college twelve years ago and was too set in her ways to ever consider moving back in. She might be a little traumatized after what Del Vecchio did to her, but that a-hole hadn’t succeeded in taking her life from her that night and she wasn’t going to let him take it from her now.
That all sounded well and good, but while Del Vecchio might not have succeeded in murdering her, he’d definitely screwed her up so much she wasn't sure she'd ever be the same. Regardless of what the psychiatrist at the hospital thought, she was pretty sure her brush with death had driven her insane.
She started to think there was something wrong with her when she’d woken up in the hospital to find Darla sitting in a chair by the window. Presley had tried to jump out of bed and run over to her best friend, but she had so many wires and tubes coming out of her that she could barely push herself into a sitting position. Then there had been the pain in her chest so severe she thought she might pass out again. By the time she’d looked over at her friend, Darla was gone.
Presley had been wondering if Darla left to get the nurse as her family rushed in. When she asked where Darla was, they told her she was dead.