He Gave Her My Eyes A Story of Final Sight novel Chapter 231

The three guys hanging around made it obvious they were up to no good. Their excuse about needing a lighter was just that, an excuse. They were only here to cause trouble.

“I don’t smoke,” Teresa said, her tone flat with annoyance.

She'd only stepped out to get a bit of fresh air while waiting for her driver, but now the air felt thick and dirty.

Turning back toward her car, she reached for the door, but the guy who’d asked for a light slammed his hand on it, blocking her way. His smile was oily and smug. “Hey, beautiful, must be fate we met tonight. If you don’t have a lighter, I’ve got a ‘spark’ of my own you can use.”

His two buddies burst out laughing. One of them chimed in, “Yeah, Neal’s spark really packs a punch, man.”

Gross. Just a bunch of creeps who only knew how to talk dirty.

Teresa smirked, lips curling. “Really? Does he? You must know from experience, then.”

Tom, the one she’d insulted, stopped laughing. He jabbed a finger at her, face turning red. “You bitch, who do you think you are?”

He was practically shaking with fury as he raised his hand, ready to slap her.

Teresa had been drinking, her senses buzzing and her emotions dialed up. Before he could even swing at her face, she heard him howl in pain.

She’d grabbed his hand and snapped his finger back, hard.

The other two dropped their fake friendliness in a flash.

Neal’s eyes narrowed, his face twisted. “No wonder someone wants to take you down, bitch.”

That stopped Teresa cold.

Wait. Was this not just a random mugging?

Someone had sent these guys after her?

Her expression went ice cold. “Was it Oliver?”

Neal clearly realized he’d said too much and ignored her.

Instead, he pulled out a knife, the blade catching the streetlight. “You’re pretty, you know, so we weren’t gonna get rough at first. But you wasted your chance, so don’t blame me for what happens next.”

Teresa’s jaw clenched, her whole body tensed.

Teresa wanted to scream.

She shot a glare at Neal, then spotted Tom, the one whose hand she’d just hurt. His injury made him slower, distracted.

Without warning, Teresa kicked him hard right where he was hurt. Tom doubled over, cursing in pain.

That gave her the split second she needed.

She bolted, running as fast as she could, heart pounding so loud it drowned out the shouts and curses behind her.

Her lungs ached, the taste of blood rising in her throat. Her purse was still in the car, along with her pepper spray and her phone. If she kept running like this, she’d get caught.

But waiting to be grabbed wasn’t an option.

At some point, her shoes slipped off, but she didn’t stop. Desperate, she ran straight into the middle of the road, waving her arms, forcing a car to screech to a stop.

She rushed to the door, ready to beg for help, but before she could even speak, the back door swung open.