Page 70 of The Keeper

Of course, I was alone.

Dane had taken to spending his evenings in the makeshift command center he’d set up in the kitchen, poring over surveillance footage from businesses in the area while I wrestled with tangled sheets and nightmares.

With a shuddered breath, I reached over to flip on the lamp, wincing at the sudden brightness. A book Ivy brought over about the effect of trauma on the body lay untouched on the nightstand along with a prescription bottle of anxiety meds. I didn’t want any of it.

I just wanted things to go back to normal.

Knowing there wasn’t a chance in hell of falling back asleep, I reached for my phone to find it was close to two, almost time for my alarm to go off anyway.

My two-week-long reprieve from the bakery was over, and my first day back loomed ahead of me like a mountain I wasn’t sure I could climb.

But I couldn’t endure another second of being cooped up in this house, a prisoner of my own fear.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed, my bare feet hitting the cold hardwood floor. The chill sent a shiver up my spine, but I welcomed the sensation. Anything to ground me in reality and shake off the nervous energy churning in my gut.

With trembling hands, I pulled on my black chef pants, sports bra, and tank top. Part of me was terrified to return to the scene of the crime, while another was eager to escape the suffocating atmosphere of my own home. I longed for my familiar routine, to feel like myself, even if it was only for a few hours.

My hopes of slipping out unnoticed were dashed as soon as I entered the hallway and heard low voices coming from the kitchen. I crept closer, straining to hear over the blood rushing in my ears.

Dane paced the kitchen like a lion in a cage, his muscular form tautwith tension. His dark hair stood on end from running his hands through it, and dark circles shadowed his eyes.

But it was his eyes that stopped me cold. They were dark, almost black, filled with the same nothingness as the version of him I saw in my nightmare.

“Please don’t do this,”a voice cried out from his laptop.

My voice.

“Shhh… Be a good girl, and I’ll let you go after.”

I clamped my hand over my mouth, resisting the urge to puke. Or cry. My cheeks flooded with heat, knowing there was video evidence of me at my most vulnerable. I didn’t want anyone seeing me like that, least of all him.

A floorboard creaked beneath my foot, giving me away. Dane’s head snapped up, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made me shiver. In an instant, he slammed the laptop shut, cutting off the haunting echo of my terror-filled voice.

“Christ, Piper,” he said, his jaw tightening as he took in my work clothes. “I forgot to tell you Derek’s putting you on paid leave until this is resolved.”

While thrilled they weren’t at each other’s throats and seemed to have come to some truce, I didn’t appreciate anyone making decisions on my behalf. I snagged my purse and keys off the counter, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from starting a fight.

“Did you not fucking hear me?”

I gritted my teeth. “I heard you just fine, but I’m going anyway. I need to get out of this house.”

In two long strides, he was in front of me. “You’re not going anywhere but back to bed.”

“No.” I planted my feet, refusing to give up what little independence I had left. “I’m going to work, Dane.”

“Wasn’t a request. Get your ass back in bed. Now.”

Anger flared in my chest, hot and bright, my voice deadly as I hissed, “I’m not a child you can order around.”

“Yeah? Well, you’re fucking acting like one right now.”

“And you’re acting like a dick!” I planted my hands on his chest, trying to shove him back, but it was like trying to move a building. Astupid, pig-headed building. “I’m done with you thinking you call all the shots around here. Now move.”

The tension radiating off him was palpable. Like a rubber band stretched to its breaking point. “Not doing this with you right now,” he stated flatly, the muscle beneath his eye twitching wildly.

Having had enough of being pushed around by men to last a lifetime, I ducked under his arm and made a beeline for the front door. “Cool. Have fun being an asshole. I’m going to work.”

I made it three steps before his hand clamped around my wrist, yanking me back. “Like hell you are,” Dane growled, the muscles in his neck straining as he fought me for control. “I swear to Christ, Piper, I’ll handcuff you to the fucking bed if you don’t stop being such a brat.”

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