The sudden cold wash of panic.
But I’m sweating all the same, swallowing the sudden rush of bile in the back of my throat, burning as it bursts its way up my oesophagus.
“Who?” I ask calmly, my heart thrashing violently behind the walls of my chest cavity, knocking like a repeating death knell.
She laughs again, this time it’s real, a deep satisfied chuckle of knowing. “Who?”she echoes back to me, mocking in a high pitched voice, laughing again. She stalks forward, a slow seductive predatory prowl, circling around me, stopping just beside my ear, facing away from me, “The man you buried with One.”Dolly.“In the Douglas Fir trees.” She turns her face towards me, her nose in my hair, lips brushing my ear, but I don’t look at her, still staring forward unblinking. “I know you killed him,” she whispers, her breath slicing down my neck forcing goosebumps to smatter over my skin. “One’s never shy about her kills,” I can feel her smile touching my ear, but I still don’t move, even though I’m thinking about the blade in my pocket, how I want to slam it into her eye. “Oh,” she giggles, sickly sweet, as though she just remembered her next words, “but she doesn’t have to be because she’sactuallyimportant here.”
She straightens, smoothing down her apron and skirts, taking a large step away from me, my blurred vision still onthe bookshelves across from me. Too many scenarios rushing through my head.
“And you,Lady Penelope,are just,not.” I don’t move, but she’s undeterred, her next words coming easily, “But,” she sighs heavily like it’s a chore. “I do suppose I could keep this to myself.” I glance in her direction from the corner of my eye, not turning to face her, but we lock eyes all the same. “If you leave me and Billy alone, look the other way when we’re together, so to speak,” she purses her lips, lifting a hand to look down at her fingernails, “I’ll keep your little secret.”
I do nothing.
I say nothing.
I breathe normally.
In and out.
She raises her brows in a quick lift, a twitching movement like a silent ‘checkmate’ before turning away from me.
She gets two steps from me, pausing to glance back over her shoulder, “Hey, think of it as me doing you a favour,” she smiles with one side of her mouth, running her gaze up my body once more. “If I keep him satisfied, he won’t mind pretending to enjoy himself when he’s with you.”
And then she walks away.
And I, I let her.
Chapter 18
BILLY
“Where are you going?” Those are the first words out of my mouth when I get home after being out all day.
Tolly and I had to make a delivery to Briarmoor Sanatorium which is always an interesting experience. Our resident doctor seems to have developed a special interest in one of their patients, and for what he calls ‘research’ purposes, we’re dragging his tagged arse back and forth there three times a fucking week.
Heavy rain batters the huge gothic arch windows, tracery dissecting the glass into different shaped pieces, blustering wind attacking the thin panes, all of it loud, all of it violent. It soothes me, the heavenly crashing noise of it washing away memories of the day so I can relax and be fully present with my girl.
“Penelope?” I question, hanging my dry jacket on the coat rack, shoving a hand through my hair, pulling the tightly curled strands upward as I do.
Her back’s to me, facing the windows, luscious long dark hair down her back, a wave of it smothering her entire upper half, a pale pink wellington boot in each of her hands, arms down by her sides, her back stiff.
“What are you doing?” I snort a half-laugh, walking around the various chairs and side tables to get up behind her.
My hands curl over her shoulders, massaging the tight muscles in her neck, thumbs kneading her back. And I feel how hot she is, her skin burning beneath my touch despite the air in the cavernous room being icy cool, no fires burning behind their grates. Only a short sleeved black T-shirt on her upper body, thin black leggings on her lower, a Pair of my white ribbed socks slouched on her feet.
It makes me want to smile, that little detail, something of mine on her. Insignificant to anyone else, but important to me.
I smooth my hands up the sides of her neck, fingers curling over the front of her throat, thumbs digging into her nape. I drop my mouth to her ear, my breath stirring her hair, nose brushing her temple.
“What are you doing?” I whisper, kissing the top of her cheekbone as I turn to face forwards too, flexing my fingers on her throat, applying a little pressure, eliciting a shiver in her. “I missed you, Little Lamb,” I tell her quietly, watching as the rain tracks down the glass, blurring the outside world from our view, nothing existing except we two.
She snorts, this quick blow of air from her nose, a stiff singular shake of her head, and a click of her tongue. The welly boots drop to the floor with a thud, ends of her hair whipping me in the face as she breaks free of my loose hold, spinning around to face me, three-feet between us.
“Are you fucking her?” she seethes through gritted teeth, hands curled into fists at her sides, her entire body trembling like the ground beneath her is shaking.
I blink, saying nothing, just staring.
This incredulous creature.
