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In those three years she had still helped him hone his first two novels until they were published. The things she’d taught him had made the second one much easier to write, but she had still been the first one to read it, he’d wanted her approval before sending it off to the editor. Though they were still in constant contact, this would be their first meeting for over a year, since she had somehow managed to get a teaching job back here at his old school. Victoria met him at the door. ‘Hello Dave. Long time, no see.’ She said, kissing him on the cheek. He responded by kissing her properly. She looked at him in surprise. ‘Sorry about that, but it’s been too long.’ He smiled. ‘Thanks for coming, everyone is so looking forward to meeting you.’ ‘How could I refuse my muse?’ ‘Will you be all right? With the talking I mean. You said you always hated talking in public.’ ‘I’ve got used to it on the signing tour. Now lead on Miss Henderson.’ She introduced him to her club. ‘Well people, I’d. The young man, without missing a beat, withdrew a throwing knife and flung it at the belt. Zzzzzziiiippp! The throwing knife impaled the belt and pinned it to the wooden stretcher rack. Both men stopped laughing and stared at this audacious man who had dared to interrupt their fun. He went over to the girl, who looked about to pass out, and took out another knife. He looked in her weary blue eyes, and saw a weary, pleading kind of relief, like she was saying, "Please. Just end it." He sliced the bonds off her wrists and ankles, and the girl collapsed into his arms. She was shivering, and the bruises were already forming on her body. He picked her up easily, carrying her light weight over to the door. She moaned, her eyelids fluttering. "Your disgusting. I cannot believe my father thought you were a decent man." His voice was contemptuous. "I'll take this one." Without another word, he turned on his heel and left. .
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