Page 50 of Kiss of Deceit
The black ski masks. The guy’s cruel eyes. The screams from my dying friends. His partner telling him to kill me when he muttered those two words.Finish it.Those images spun around in my mind as terror clawed at my chest.
The bar spun around me, and I closed my eyes, attempting to keep a hold on reality. My chest heaved, my breathing quickly spiraling out of control. My carefully put together demeanor was shattering because of two fucking words.
My ears rang, the noises in the bar becoming nonexistent as I was dragged back to that night. Phantom pain tore through my stomach where I’d been stabbed, and I sagged against the wall, sucking in quick breaths.This wasn’t real.I knew that, yet I still couldn’t pull myself from the nightmare.
“It’s not him,” I muttered to myself. “He’s not here.”
I staggered away from the wall, pushing through the thick crowd. Someone backed into me, and I barely reacted when my drink spilled down my sweater. I set the glass down on the closest table before searching for the exit.
I couldn’t afford to lose it here in front of all these people. I blew out a shaky breath, failing to pull myself from the horror of my past. My chest was tight, my body suddenly so hot I could barely take it. Sweat covered my back, and I choked out breaths, feeling suffocated.
I finally made it to the door, and slammed it open, stumbling outside. The frigid air hit my skin, doing nothing to calm me.
“I’m okay. I’m okay,” I repeated. “It’s not real.”
All the therapy and work I’d done to fix myself over the years still couldn’t touch the deep-rooted horror of that night. Two little words put me in such a panic that I had no control of.
I ran my hands down my face. But it wasn’t just those words. It was being chased in the woods. The people in ski masks I’d seen outside my window. The murder.
The things happening in this town were going to ruin me if I let them.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
kole
I jabbedmy finger on the keypad of the door, unlocking it in a hurry. I left the bar right after Dani had fled. She’d left in such a rush that she forgot her jacket and purse on the bar, and I’d grabbed them before I left. By the time I’d gotten outside, she was nowhere to be found, so I hoped she was back home.
I quietly opened the door, going still when I spotted her. Every single light in the house was on, making me squint until my eyes adjusted to the brightness. She was in the kitchen, her elbows on the counter, her hands covering her face. Either she hadn’t heard me come in or she was ignoring me. I still had no idea what freaked her out at my bar. No one was talking to her when she suddenly panicked.
Before I could announce my presence, she lowered her hands from her face to glance down at her wet sweater as she mumbled something under her breath. Then she grabbed the hem, pulling it over her head, revealing a black bra. My pulse thudded as she headed toward the laundry room.
As if finally sensing that she wasn’t alone, she whirled around, her eyes gleaming with so much raw pain and fear that my heart dipped. What the hell had happened for her to looklike that? My gaze dropped, my teeth clenching together when I caught sight of wicked scars covering one side of her stomach. A moment later, she covered them with her sweater as she backed up a step. Her bra was on full display, proving she only cared about hiding her scars.
“Get out,” she hissed, her voice nearly cracking. “Go back to your bar, Kole. I’m not in the mood to deal with you or anyone else.”
I ignored her demand, stepping inside and kicking the door shut behind me. “That’s what you’ve been hiding? Who hurt you?”
“It’s a surgical scar.”
“Don’t bullshit me. That is not from surgery.”
“Go away,” she bit out.
There was no way in hell I was leaving her alone. Her hands were shaking slightly, the wild look in her eyes still present. Whatever had her spooked was still in her head.
“I won’t ask questions,” I said firmly. “But I’m not leaving.”
She glared at me. “Then I’ll go. We might have to share a house, but at least I have my own room.”
I stepped to the side, blocking the stairs. “No.”
“No?” she repeated. “Please try and stop me.”
Just like that, her fear was gone. Her anger was slowly building as I crossed my arms, planting my feet. I’d much rather see her rage than that terror even if it was aimed at me.
“I just want to make sure you’re okay,” I said quietly. “Because the way you ran out of the bar?—”
“Is none of your business,” she interrupted. “Get out of my way.”
