Vicki went shopping. Her entire wardrobe consisted of two pairs of jeans, two t-shirts, two sweaters, functional underwear and a thick coat borrowed from a friend. Nothing that would do for this. Her insurance company had already assured her that the payo...
“…traumatised.” Vicki flinched as he said it. Yes, that’s what I am. Traumatised. A silly girl responding to my Knight because I’m ‘traumatised’. She pushed back from him, waiting until he’d finished talking on his radio. “I’m not traumatised,” she said,...
His radio crackled. “Gerry, I swear to god, if you don’t get your ass down here pronto I’m leaving you up there all night. Do you have any idea what time it is? Becki will have my skin!” Gerry sighed. It had been a long shift, and it wasn’t his fault that...
