Breaking the Barricade

VALERIE

My hand was on the car door handle, the cool metal pressing into my palm, when the thought hit me like a slap across the face. Roman was in danger and here I was, about to drive away alone.

I turned around and ran back into the house, my heels slapping against the concrete, my breath coming in short sharp bursts. The sounds of moaning and flesh slapping against flesh were still drift