He held up his bandaged wrist. ‘I didn’t deserve that.’

‘You bloody well did! You should never have forced yourself on me.’ She knew she had to keep the argument about them and not let on that she knew he’d held Tiffany at knifepoint.

He rubbed his sweaty forehead and took a deep breath. ‘Look, Zara, you have to listen to me. I want you to come with me. Please, just come back to my house. I need to talk to you.’ He grabbed her arm so tightly it made her wince, and she was no fairy.

‘Get the fuck off me! Now!’ She tried to break free, but with no other hand, she was defenceless. She attempted to kick him, but she missed and instead slipped on the wooden floor. Nevertheless, he held her up.

‘Stop it, will you! For fuck’s sake, you’re coming with me. Now, stop struggling!’

She tried again to kick him hard. This time, she didn’t miss; she managed to strike him on the inside of his thigh. His leg buckled, forcing him to release his grip. She kicked him again, which made him holler in such pain that he needed to lean against the wall for support.

It was enough time for her to run back along the hallway to her father’s office. Her eyes searched the desk for her gun, but she suddenly panicked – it was under her pillow upstairs. All she could do was to grab her phone and call someone. But as soon as it was in her hand, he was there like a monster, trying to snatch it from her. She just managed to pull away from him, but in doing so, she dropped the phone, and now he had it.

He went to seize her again, but she sidestepped and missed his clutches. From the corner of her eye, she spotted her father’s heavy glass ashtray – it was the only weapon available. She ran around the opposite side of the desk to Eric, grabbed the heavy object, and went for him, ramming it into the side of his head.

She gasped as he fell back. She knew she’d hurt him; she’d felt the impact from the ashtray making contact with his bone. He staggered and tried to focus. The clump had disorientated him. She watched as he stumbled about, but she couldn’t move. Then a sudden feeling of guilt swept over her. His eyes looked so full and frightened. Yet she wasn’t going to be fooled; he was a devious bastard.

Slowly, she stepped backwards, walking away from him, before he could hurt her. As if he’d taken control of his senses, he straightened up. Zara’s heart beat faster; he was like the man who wouldn’t die. Yet, as she gritted her back teeth to stop them from chattering, he looked harshly at her.