Page 14 of The Villain

I tried to swallow, but this time it was impossible. Blind. Almost blown-up. In danger.And I’d thought divorced, starving artist moving back into her mom’s house was rock bottom.

“Why would someone try to kill me? I’m not…I don’t have money.” My heartbeat turned erratic. Heavy thuds and low flutters. The pulse in my head became insistent, and suddenly, it felt like it was the sheer number of questions themselves that started swelling my brain.

“I just moved here. I know maybe three people in town. I’m an artist.” I rambled through the sad facts of my life, desperate to find even the semblance of one that could serve as an explanation.

“Athena.”Speed bump.“I’m going to find out who did this and why—I’m going to make sure you’re safe.”

It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t a request for permission. It was a promise. To protect me. To take care of me. My lips parted, and the unsteady beat in my chest started to calm. No one had promised me that in a very long time, and the last person who did had lied.

“But for me to do that, I need you to focus on resting and getting better. Do we have a deal?” His hand slid around mine as though we were going to shake on it. This time, it hit me how large his hand was and how small mine felt in his grasp.The man himself must be huge.

“A deal?” I murmured. “How can I make a deal with you when I don’t even know your name?”

Again, that pause. That canyon. That vast space filled with all the things he wasn’t telling me.

“My name…” He trailed off like he was waiting for something. “You can call me Dare.”

Dare.

My teeth bit into my bottom lip, tempted to ask if that was short for something else.Darren? Darrel? Dar—No. It wouldn’t be that—it couldn’t be. I refused to think that the man who’d saved my life had the same name as the one who’d first broken my heart. There were a lot of things I wished I could remember right now, but none of them had to do with Darius Keyes. There were enough hurts I had to revisit coming home, I refused to let him be one of them.

I released my lip and let the name be just that.Dare.

“It’s nice to meet you, Dare,” I murmured, my voice cracking again. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” he insisted, his voice taking on a different quality, the rough notes stretched taut like my gratitude physically hurt him.

And then his position changed. He’d been kneeling or sitting beside the bed, but now he stood, and the movement forced all the atoms of oxygen in the room to rearrange. I felt the tension of them between us—like I could sense his distance from me rather than see it.

“But you saved my life.” I wished I could see him—could see his face. I wished I could understand why he didn’t want to be thanked.

Cavernous silence.

“You should rest,” he replied. “I’ll be back in a little with food and your medications.” Something cold and hard pressed into my palm. “If you need anything just press this button, it will call right to my phone.”

I let out a sad laugh.Thirty-six, broke, and almost blown to bits, and I was now the less-than-proud owner of a Life Alert.

“Okay.” I nodded, listening for a moment to the indistinct shuffling amid footsteps as the two men went to leave the safe house.

Was it really a house? Or an apartment?Did it matter?I was stuck here until I was better—until I was safe. And it wasn’t like I could complain about the view.

“Dare?” I called when I heard the door open. At first, I didn’t even know if he had still heard me—if he was still here. I didn’t think about how unnerving that was because if I did, I would need some of the medications that the doctor had offered.

“Yeah.”

I shivered, his voice filling the space.

“Thank you.” I held my breath and released it when I heard his grunt, which was quickly punctuated by the door closing and a chill consuming me now that I was alone with my thoughts.

I was blind.

And someone had tried to kill me.

I closed my eyes and tried to do what he asked—rest—but the scent of him still lingered. The woodsy pine and the coarse warmth of his fingers along mine.Dare.The man who’d saved my life. The man whose voice was as husky and warm as hot coals.The man who promised to protect me.

And then the dark canvas of my mind took liberties with my memories, blending present with past, reality with imagination. It took the face of the boy I’d once loved and attached it to the musky scent, strong feel, and rough promise of the man who’d saved my life.

It was more than a fantasy. It was evidence of my brain injury.

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