Scared Yet? by Jaye Ford Page B

did with your keys andthe screaming, people should know that worked. It might save someone else.’
    Liv eyed her injured hand. She couldn’t stop him but maybe she could stop someone else being hurt. Another version of fighting back. ‘Can you make an appeal for witnesses to come forward?’
    Sheridan gave her arm a quick rub. ‘Absolutely. Anything you want.’
    Sheridan started the interview in the corridor outside Prescott and Weeks and as word spread that a news crew was on the premises, an audience grew. Most of the neighbours and a few people from the street gathered in the narrow space to watch, whispering about the attack in huddled groups between takes. Liv felt like a bad actor in a C-grade movie of her disastrous life.
    â€˜They probably won’t follow us up to the car park,’ Sheridan said quietly.
    â€˜How do you do this every day?’ Liv asked.
    â€˜Gotta have a few more show-off genes than you.’
    On the way out, Liv glanced at the end office on the right. Risk Control was Daniel’s office, the lettering on the door that she couldn’t remember last night said he was a specialist in workplace safety and security. She’d hoped to see him, to thank him properly now that she could actually form words but his reception area was empty and dark. Maybe she could buy him something. What do you get someone who drags you off the pavement and escorts you to safety? A bottle of Scotch? A gold pen? An IOU?
    Sheridan was right about the onlookers. Only Kelly followed.
    â€˜Do you want me to come and hold your idiot cards?’ she asked.
    â€˜I don’t think I need any prompting. I feel like a complete idiot already.’ Liv hitched the tiny microphone pinned to her shirt. ‘And I’ve held up the office enough today.’
    Liv and Sheridan followed the cameraman up the pedestrian ramp, the sound of their shoes absorbed by noise from the street. They moved to the side as two men in suits came down the incline. One was tall. Liv checked his face. No bruise.
    â€˜How’s your dad?’ Sheridan asked.
    Yesterday morning, he’d been weak and sleepy with the drugs but he’d still held her hand with an iron grip. ‘He’s hanging in there. He doesn’t know how to give in.’ She’d have to visit him this afternoon so he didn’t see her face on TV before she’d had a chance to talk to him. She’d have to tell Cameron, too.
    â€˜Is it okay if I mention your dad in the story?’
    Liv glanced at her. ‘What do you mean?’
    â€˜Just that Tony Wallace is your father. People still talk about him, you know. It’s pretty funny, when you think about it. Some arsehole lays into a woman in a car park and it turns out to be the daughter of a champion boxer.’
    â€˜Hope the bastard takes a lesson from that.’
    They stepped off at the third floor and Liv let her gaze wander across the garage. Lots of light, plenty of cars, a few people on foot. No bruised faces. They worked their way to Liv’s car, still parked where it had been last night.She saw a dent on the top edge of the boot, wondered what had hit it. As the cameraman set up, she eyed the support column two parking spaces away, a remnant of blue and white police tape still tied around it. Had the man in black hidden there, watching her all the way? Maybe he hadn’t  hidden at all. Maybe he’d leaned against it with his arms folded knowing he didn’t need to conceal himself in the blackness.
    â€˜Why don’t you talk me through it?’ Sheridan suggested.
    Liv paced it out, pointing, swinging an arm like a punch, Sheridan moving out of her way as she demonstrated the violent dance around the car.
    â€˜How did it make you feel?’
    â€˜I don’t know. It all happened so fast.’
    â€˜Were you scared?’
    She remembered the gasp of breath as he grabbed her, the surge of energy that followed.