You subtly glance behind you again, but the men are still there. They’re definitely following you. You shift your feet, waiting for the crowd in the space between you thicken up enough that you can make a break for it. Once the crowd has you obscured, you make a 180 and charge out of there as fast as you can without outright running.

You slam into a firm chest and the air escapes from your lungs. A steadying hand is placed on your arm to prevent you from toppling over. The man you ran into towers over you, looking down at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Running from something, kitten?