Page 24 of The Meaning Of You

Holy shit.I froze, my heart jumping in my throat.

In the quiet, I could hear someone speaking, but it was soft and indistinct. I looked up and realised it was coming from a partially open window on the first floor. It could’ve been Nick, but I wasn’t sure. The voice faded, like the speaker had walked into another room, and I returned to staring at the open door.

It was a simple decision.

Leave and call the police from the safety of my car. Sensible and very tempting. Or take a look inside in case Nick was in trouble and needed immediate help. Stupid and scary.

Door number one or door number two?

Dammit.

I blew out the breath I’d been holding and stepped into the laundry. If I’d ever done a sillier thing in my life, I couldn’t think of it right then. What the hell I thought I was going to do if I actually ran into someone, who knew? Hit them over the head with my first-edition Arthur Conan Doyle? Sherlock Holmes to the rescue inThe Curious Incident of the Open Door.

Jesus fucking Christ.

I was losing my damn mind.

Two more steps and I was standing in the doorway of a hall that led off to my right. I paused again. The house remained quiet, ominously so. I glanced over my shoulder to the back door and sighed.

It wasn’t too late to change my mind.

I was still deciding when a blow to my stomach slammed me back against the wall, knocking the breath from my lungs. Bile surged up the back of my throat and I doubled over, hacking amouthful onto the tiled floor. I was still gasping for air when a hand fisted the front of my shirt and pinned me to the wall. A clenched fist whistled toward me. I scrunched my eyes and braced for impact.

But the explosion of pain never came. Instead, a gasp of surprise was followed by a deafening crunch beside my left ear.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

CHAPTER SIX

Nick

I droppedMadigan’s shirt and he crumbled to his knees, coughing and gasping for air. “I’m so sorry.” I slung an arm around his waist and helped him to his feet. “What the hell were you doing creeping around my house?”

Madigan threw me a blistering look before dissolving into another fit of coughing. He shoved me aside as he tried to catch his breath. “I wasn’t creeping, you jerk,” he choked out in between thumping his chest.

I raised a sceptical brow, but it was hard to tell if the flush that crept up his neck in response was embarrassment or lack of oxygen.

“Fine,” he managed once he regained his composure. “So, there might’ve been a little creeping involved but Ithought you were being robbed, dammit.” He thumbed toward the broken door to make his point. “And I didn’t know if they were still here.” He spun and hawked a load of spittle through the open door. As he turned back, his gaze caught on the length of framing wood I’d abandoned on the laundry floor.

“You hit me withthat?” He drilled me with a glare. “You arsehole.” He gave me a two-handed shove back into the hall. “You do realise you could’ve killed me.”

I steadied myself and snorted. “I didn’t hit you that har?—”

He shoved me again and I hit the wall.

“Ow! For fuck’s sake.”

He arched a brow and my hands shot up.

“Okay, okay,” I relented. “I’m sorry. Forgive me for being a little proactive, but as you succinctly pointed out, I have just been robbed. For all I knew, you could’ve been them coming back for more. I was hardly going to introduce myself first, was I?”

Madigan almost growled and I had to fight a smile. Prickly Madigan was kind of cute.

“Then you should fix the damn door,” he grumbled.

“I was about to do that, not that it’s any of your business, but the detectives have only just left. Luckily, they knew me from my police work and were quick about things.” I swept my hand around the room to make a point.

Madigan frowned at the fingerprint dust like he was seeing it for the first time. “Oh.” Colour rose in his cheeks. “Still, you could’ve—” The rest was lost to a fit of coughing as his complexion turned a sickly reddish green and he leaned forward with his hands on his knees, chest heaving.

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