Page 36 of Freckles

The girl who will soon be mine.

CHAPTERFOURTEEN

FRANCESCA

I spendthe morning worrying about the upcoming lunchbreak and what new horrors might be in store with Kincaid. A waste, because when the midday bell rings, he’s not even in the cafeteria.

Rather than relaxing, I switch to worrying about the appointment later today, to remove the freezer. The one I need to vacate the house for.

My car already has a few textbooks in the back seat. I plan to spend the evening at the central library before driving to a hilltop park where there’s unlikely to be any circulating patrol cars to move me along.

A fizzing sensation builds inside me, and it takes time to recognised it as hope. An emotion that’s been sorely missed.

The winter sun is already setting when I arrive home at four-thirty, wanting to shower and change. The appointment isn’t until six—there’s plenty of time—but my stomach is queasy like I’m running late.

An instant after I walk through the door, I know something is wrong.

I stand completely still, my hand resting on the handle, ready to reverse direction and flee. The house is neater than when I left this morning. Vacuum scuffs are on the rug. The air has a floral scent, warmer than normal.

“Mum?”

A splash comes from the bathroom, and my heart flutters.

“Mum!”

I slam the door shut and run to the bathroom, head spinning with the thousand things I want to say to her, arms aching for one of her tight bear hugs. The hollowness in my centre fills with anticipation. “I’m so—”

My words falter to a stop before my brain fully registers what’s in front of me.

A naked man is in the bath, most of his body obscured by bubbles.

I retreat a step. My cheeks burn with embarrassment for walking in on a stranger when they’re undressed. I must have come into the wrong house.

Logic overrides the instinctual answer. This is the right house. It’smyhouse. And the moment I clear that mental hurdle, another clicks into place.

It’s not a stranger. It’s someone far more dangerous.

What is Kincaid doing in my bathtub?

I step back into the bathroom and his amused smirk has my fists clenching.

“Don’t bother running.” He blows soapy bubbles off his fingers. “I already know all your secrets.”

My knees weaken and I grab the doorhandle for support. A glance along the hallway shows me the connecting door to the garage is still shut. “What s-secrets?”

“Close the door,” he says, ignoring my question. “Come join me in here.” He lifts his eyebrows, smiling broadly. “You didn’t really think you could threaten my cousin, then go about your business like nothing happened, did you?”

“No.” I drop my head, relieved that’s the secret he means, but he couldn’t have worse timing. “But we can talk about it at school tomorrow. You still need to leave.”

He raises another cupped handful of suds, blowing them towards me. “But I only just got comfortable.”

My chest pulls tight.

Yes, I gave Ezra an ultimatum, but this is like walking in midway through a movie. I have no idea of the plot or what should happen next.

“Get out of my bath and out of my house!”

He gives a dramatic sigh. “Fine. If that’s what you really want.”

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