Air rushed from her chest. Because she believed him. He wouldn’t—
“I killed one person. A man. In my home.”
She flinched. “You…you killed someone? In your house?”
“It was self-defense. And if you put the knife down, I’ll tell you everything.” He took another step toward her.
She stepped around the island, her hip hitting the counter. “What about the woman? It said you were holding the murder weapon. Is that part true?”
“What said that?”
“Is it true, Zane?”
A muscle clicked in his jaw. “Yes.”
Oh, Jesus.
“I’m not a cold-blooded murderer, Bonnie.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me any of this? Why keep it all a secret? We hadsexlast night, and now all of this stuff comes out? I feel like I don’t know you at all!”
Pain cut across his features. “I should have told you. I was trying to protect you. I’m sorry.”
Tears pressed at her eyes. She lowered the knife, but she didn’t move toward him. “I need you to go.”
“Bonnie—”
“I know there’s more to the story, but right now I’m hurt and angry and I need some space.”
For a second, he just stood there, and she was sure he wasn’t going to leave. But then he gave a small nod. “Okay. I’ll go. But before I do, I need you to know one thing.”
“What?” Her voice was almost a whisper.
“I’m not the bad guy here. You don’t have to be afraid of me.”
Then he stepped out of the kitchen, and she heard him pull on his clothes before leaving her apartment.
Air rushed from her chest, and for a moment, she didn’t move. All she could do was breathe.
Twenty minutes ago, she’d been on top of the world. Now? Now she had no idea who she’d slept with. Or who she’d fallen for.
That fucking reporter.
Zane pressed his foot to the floor of the car, far exceeding the speed limit but not giving a single fuck. All he could think about, all that consumed him, was finding the asshole and murdering him.
Bonnie knew. Only she didn’t. Because the reporter hadn’t printed the entire story. He’d only printed enough to make Zane look like a cold-blooded murderer. And he was going to pay for that.
It wasn’t just Bonnie who knew, though. The whole of Amber Ridge would have read the article. And if they hadn’t, someone would tell them. Nothing stayed secret in small towns for long.
He’d come here to get away from the stories and the gossip and the stares. He’d come here for a scrap of anonymity. The reporter had stolen that from him.
He pulled up outside the apartment block and climbed from the car. Just as he reached the building, an older woman stepped outside. Zane took the opportunity and stepped in before the door closed behind her.
He knew exactly what floor the jerk was on. And unlike last time, he wasn’t waiting around for him to come outside.
When he reached the second floor, he stormed down the hall and was just approaching the apartment when the door opened and Abe stepped out, suitcase in hand.
Abe met his gaze. The weasel gasped before rushing back into the apartment. But it was too late. Zane grabbed him before he could close the door, pushing him inside and slamming the door closed after them.
