She broke into a run, tearing across the street to a Deco-style building where she pushed into the vestibule. In seconds she was pounding on the door of an upstairs apartment.
When he answered she shoved past him into the room and quickly locked the door, but she was so embarrassed by what she could recall of their last encounter that she couldn’t look him in the eye. “I need help.” She stared at the ground and tried to think over the thudding of her adrenaline-charged pulse. “Someone’s following me, and I don’t know why. Can I hide here?” She was breathing fast, alert to every sound, but he seemed completely unconcerned.
She looked up impatiently. “Who, what? Some quadrant marshal, but I don’t know his name or why…”
“Yeah, okay.” He smiled as he took a step toward her, put his hands at her waist and pulled her closer.
Against her will, the warm, comforting pink haze swam up to meet her again.
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