Page 38 of Secret Love

Chapter 14

Dani

Now

Istare at my new hairstyle in the mirror. Damp and black, strands clawing downward to cup my face. I blot it with a towel to sop up the remaining extra dye, completely staining the off-white motel towels.

I’ve never gone black before. I’m not sure if I like it. I have naturally pale skin and this color just makes all my flaws stand out like a damn sore thumb. And I fucking hate it when it’s this short. Might as well just kill me right now, Mercer.

I turn away from the mirror and toss the empty dye box in the trash can.

“Fox?” I step out into the motel room. He’s lying on the bed with his arm draped across his eyes. His chest rises and falls. “Fox?” I walk over to him and shake his shoulder.

His arm jerks and he grabs my neck.

“Fox!”

He squeezes, hard. Fingers dig into my throat, too strong for me to pry off. I gasp and wheeze as I scratch at his wrist.

“F—ox.”

His eyes open. Fear, anger, pain — you name it, it crosses them. I tremble in terror as he recognizes me and releases me from his strong grip.

“Dani…” He looks at his hand, horrified at himself. “Oh, god. Dani. I’m sorry, I…”

I stumble away from him, coughing to catch my breath through blurred vision. I rest one hand on the dresser to hold myself up while I feel my neck for bruises.

“Dani, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I say, my voice scrapping through my throat.

“Let me see.”

I flinch again, suddenly feeling him hovering beside me. My back touches the dresser as I look up at him through my new black bangs.

“Dani…” His hand touches my wrist near my neck. “Let me see…”

My gut twinges through a bit of nostalgia. He’s looking at me now just like the old Fox used to during the rare times we were alone together. The horror has left his eyes, replaced with kind, somewhat gentle, affection. And attraction. Maybe even lust.

I lower my hand to reveal my throat. Fox moves forward to take a closer look.

“Can you breathe okay?” he asks, his fingers gently probing.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” I answer.

“Does it hurt to talk?”

“Not anymore.”

“Are you sure?”

“It doesn’t hurt,” I say, perhaps a little too forcefully, but if he keeps touching me like this, he’ll surely feel how much my heart is racing.

Fox lowers his hands, sensing my push. “How long have I been asleep?” he asks.

“Two hours, maybe,” I say. “What were you dreaming about?”

He steps away. “Nothing.”

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