Page 13 of Primal
What the fuck is she doing out by herself at this hour?
Her tight leggings and baggy athletic tank are a far cry from the very demure outfits she normally wears. Her curvy hips sway with each of her brisk steps, and I’m practically unable to pull my eyes from her ass.
She hasn’t just garnered the attention of my wandering eye but also of the three men behind her. They aren’t just following her. The three of them stalk closer with every few steps shetakes. Their eyes roam over her with a nefarious hunger. They’re huntingmyprey.
How the fuck doesn’t she realize they’re following her?
CHAPTER TEN
CATLIN
Walking home from the gym, the hair on the back of my neck stands on end when the black SUV driving past me slows to a crawl. My heart begins racing, and I pick up my pace to a brisk walk.
“Hey,” a slightly familiar voice calls from the window as it lowers. “Get in, Catlin. I’ll give you a ride home. Or wherever it is you’re going.”
Finnigan?
“I…I’m good,” I stammer, heeding Uncle Sean’s warning. Even without it, I know better than to climb into cars with strange men. Especially in the middle of the night. “It’s only a couple of blocks away.”
He abruptly stops the SUV in the middle of the street and storms toward me on the sidewalk. I am completely fixated on his black eye and bloody lower lip; by the time my brain registers the idea of running, he’s towering over me and reaching for my arm. As I recoil from him, he barks, “Get in the fucking truck, Catlin.”
“I’d rather not.” I vehemently shake my head.
“Trust me.” He gestures behind me. “I have way better intentions than those three fecking blokes following you.”
Suddenly spinning around, my heart leaps into my throat when I find three men not more than fifteen meters from me, hungrily eyeing me over. I might not know with certainty, but I can only imagine what their intentions were.
Or what would have happened if Finn didn’t stop.
“Please.” Finn softens his tone, outstretching his hand toward mine. “Get in the truck, Catlin.”
With a heavy breath to gather my courage, I let him take my hand. Firmly holding it in his, he walks me toward the SUV still running in the middle of the street and opens the door for me to get in.
“What the hell are you doing walking out here alone this late at night?” he gruffly asks as he slides behind the wheel.
“I… um… I’m walking back home from the gym.”
“And home is…”
“The church,” I answer, and his brows furrow in confusion.
“Didn’t anyone tell you it’s not safe?” he presses as he slips the SUV into drive.
“Yes,” I admit. “But it was only a few blocks.”
“The same bad shit can happen in one that can in ten,” he lectures.
Passing under a streetlight, the light illuminates the car enough that I notice the bloodied knuckles of his hand wrapped aroundthe steering wheel. “From your appearance, I’m going to assume I’m not the first damsel-in-distress you rescued tonight.”
“No, sweetheart.” He chuckles. “These are from work. Not counting my favorite cute little redhead, you are the only pretty girl I’ve had in my car this week.”
“Oh.” The exclamation falls over my lips before I can stop it.
“Oh?” He coyly smiles. “Is that ‘oh, the cute little redhead?’ or ‘oh, work’?”
“Both,” I softly answer honestly.
“You’ve met the redhead. She’s about three feet tall and absolutely adorable.” I can’t help but smile at his answer and how much he clearly adores his niece. “And I can only imagine Father O’Flaherty has told you plenty about what my family does for work.”