“Y…you. Did. This.” I push on his chest. “You’re a killer.” My words are more statements than questions. Fear grips my neck, making it difficult to breathe as I stumble away from him.
Dom enters the boat house, checking for a pulse, but it’s clear he’s long gone with the stench like he’s emptied his insides, not to mention the colour. He’s almost grey in the dull space. “He wasn’t dead when I left him this morning.”
“This morning?” I gasp, covering my mouth before I throw up. Acid coats my throat. He crowds the doorway of the old boathouse, looking every bit deadly like the killer he is. Gasping for breath, I step backwards, but my foot trips on something. My bottom cushions the blow as I tumble backwards into the wet dirt.
He rushes to me, reaching out his hands to help me from the ground. “Don’t touch me.”
He ignores me, slipping an arm around my waist and hoisting me to my feet. “I locked him in here for you. To keep you safe.”
“You’ve been keeping him in here this whole time?” I stare at his face, hoping there’s some sort of explanation, but my instincts already told me he was keeping things from me. The blood on his shirt. Fucking liar. Doing all this for me, my arse.
“I was trying to find out more information. I didn’t want anyone else coming after you.”
“But yet you let me believe he was still out there while you had me locked up in your house.” Tears drip down my face as I assess my surroundings. “How can I ever trust you?”
“You have to trust me. I don’t know who did this. I need to get you back to the house. We need to go.” He moves closer, his arms open as if harnessing a protective shield over me.
“I’m not going anywhere with you.” I turn and run, my pumps slipping on the wet ground, but I keep moving. Everything is in slow motion, like I’m moving my legs but not actually getting anywhere. Not fast enough, anyway.
Cold hands clench my arm, but I hiss as though his touch burns. “Don’t fucking touch me.” I flail my arms at him, spinning on my toes. Thunder cracks in the sky, and it’s like my heart splitting in two.
“How many more secrets are you keeping, Dom? I had a feeling something was off in the beginning. Now I know it’s because you’ve been lying to me this whole time.” I gasp for oxygen, choking on a sob.
“Poppy, calm down. Look at me. Breathe, baby. I’ll tell you everything you want to know. Let’s just go home where it’s safe.”
“So you can lock me up again?” I push at his chest to gain some distance between us so I can breathe.
His solid chest doesn’t flinch. “I’m a private investigator. I work freelance. I was trying to get information before I handed him over to the police.”
My head shakes. I walk backwards in disbelief. “Who are you?”
“You don’t need to know all the details.” He follows each step I make until I’m backed against a large trunk. “You just need to know I love you.”
“This isn’t love, Dom. You manipulated me and deceived me. For what?” A dozen questions run through my head, along with a dozen scenarios. “Did you keep me safe so I would testify? Are you working with the police?”
“No. But I’d hoped you would speak out and put him behind bars.” He inches closer with a pained look on his face and eyes dull like the sky. “I also fell in love with you.”
“You’re not in love with me, Dom. You’re obsessed.” Tears sting my eyes. A strangled sob prickles the back of my throat before I let it go. Out with it come the words I’d been holding back. “You made me fall in love with you, Dom.”
Tattooed hands wrap around me, pulling me flush with his chest. “Poppy.” He deflates against me like I’ve knocked the wind out of him. “I wanted you to love me, but I never dared dream it. I would’ve made you mine, regardless.” He peppers my hair with delicate kisses, causing another bout of sickness to burn my throat.
Something digs into my hip, and it’s not his dick for once. It’s his knife in his sweats pocket. I let him cup my cheeks and continue his assault of kisses over my face while my hand reaches into his pocket.
“Let me take you home and take care of you.” He continues to say the sweetest things, all laced with deceit. I can’t tell what’s fact and fiction anymore.
I pop the blade from the knife and point it at his throat. “You’re insane if you think we can be together now. You lied to me over and over again. Our relationship is built on lies.”
“Poppy, trust me. All I’ve done is protect you.”
I press the knife against his flesh. “You’re the one I needed protecting from this whole time. I knew something was off with you. I just never imagined it was this.” I manage to slip free, my pumps squelch as I run on the soggy ground.
He’s hot on my tail, like the hound he is. A ray of light peeks through the thick foliage, creating patterns on the ground, illuminating the wild flowers thriving in the most unlikely of places.
I don’t get far before he’s on me. Using his self defence moves against him, I hold the knife at his throat. “You lay a hand on me, and I’ll cut you.”
His breath fans my cheek, his mouth inches from mine. The only thing between us is the silver blade at his throat. His warm body presses against mine, backing me into a large oak tree.
My limbs tremble, but I grip the knife, holding it steady. My knees, on the other hand, are weak, just like they always are in his presence. “I meant what I said.”
