Page 298 of Phobia
One word sits on my tongue:yet.Naomi isn’t one of us yet.
Frank sighs, “Some people don’t belong in our world, Dom.”
“You don’t know she doesn’t.”
“That’s the point.Weknow nothing about her.”
Shaking my head, I exhale a deep breath and turn away. It may seem hasty, but it’s not like my plans will happen overnight.
Frank clears his throat and closes the distance. “You’re smarter than me, Dom and more tuned in to the sadistic beating heart of the world than I’ll ever be,” he says with respect. “If you see something, I won’t doubt you. All I ask is that you give it time. Let me dig deeper—for my sanity, if nothing else.”
Tipping my head back, I roll my shoulders, relieving the tension before clasping a hand firmly on his. I’m lucky to have this man, and I know he’s talking sense, but something inside isn’t letting me relent.
Resolved, I look him in the eyes. “You’ve got two weeks.”
Chapter 16
“Interesting choice of outfit.” Kelly eyes my high-neck top with a knowing grin.
I wave it off in defence. “It’s new.”
“Hmmm…” She scoops up her glass of wine, and I follow her into the kitchen, away from the eager ears of my aunt and uncle, who are busy setting up the dining room.
“You’re not getting away without sharing details. That man was hot as fuck, and I’m sorry, but making sureIgot home OK…” Her eyes widen, still in disbelief. “If you don’t claim him, I will.”
I ignore the foreign and unwelcome ache that screams disappointment. “It was just one night. He made that clear, and that’s fine with me.” That’s not entirely true, but I’m still getting my head around being held captive—almost—and meeting his mother.
Cheeky bitch.
I can’t explain to Kelly what I don’t understand myself.
She watches for the cracks in my shield that won’t appear, shrugs, and grins. “It was worth it, though, wasn’t it?”
I scoff. “Worth spending the next few days fretting about the arrival of my period?”
Was it?Is it ever? The memory of the orgasm fades when the vision of my bloodied corpse overpowers it. My throat may be sore from crying out my pleasure, but anyone who’s lived with me already knows I’m a screamer—and not in a good way.
“What are you two whispering about?” Uncle Jude walks in, a suspicious glint in his eyes.
“Nothing, Dad,” Kelly says at the same time as I reply with, “Nothing, Uncle Jude.”
I don’t miss the flicker of pain that my words cause, but it’s not my fault. I didn’t make the rules. When my aunt and uncle took me in, my aunt felt the best way to honour my mum—her sister’s memory—was to ensure I knew the difference.
When I called her “Mamma” as a toddler, it was met with a shake of the head. Aunt Sal would fetch a photo of the woman I never met and hold it to my face. “This is Mamma,” she’d say, “I’m Aunty Sal.”
They’re the only parents I’ve ever known, and I love them with everything I have for taking me in, but the barrier they accidentally created remains.
“Probably talking about what they got up to last night.”
Kelly and I both groan on hearing Ant’s disgruntled tone. I turn to the door, and my heart sinks even further when I see Max standing beside him, fuming.
It’s not unusual for Max to come over for Sunday dinner, but the expectation that I somehow owe him something just because we slept together for a bit grates me.
Thankfully, Kelly knows how to handle her brother. “We’ll share if you do,” she challenges, and with that, Ant goes to the fridge to grab a beer.
Uncle Jude holds his hands up in surrender. “Unless one of you now has a criminal record, I don’t want to know.”
“Time to cut the goose!” Aunt Sal calls from the living room, and we all breathe a sigh of relief at having avoided an interrogation.
