Chapter 23
I managed to rouse myself and looked up in time to catch sight of the young guy I’d seen in the garage doorway, rushing back to me. “Wait, wait, are you okay?” he asked, stopping me from leaving by putting a hand on my arm. “Don’t move. Wait. Hold on. Hold on.” He ran to the kitchen and while he did, I bolted for the front door, still in the throes of panic, but then he grabbed my arm. “Wait, Sebastien, wait.”
The sound of my name struck me like a punch and I teetered, leaning back on the door, gulping for air.
“Oh, figlio de putana.” The young guy was wide-eyed. “I called the police. I called them.”
“Okay,” I said, my own voice sounding like it was coming from a distant place.
“You’re all right. You’re okay.” He stared at the scissors in his hand.
“Untie me,” I said, my mind clearing up a little.