Page 328 of Phobia
His hand slams over my mouth, his gaze trained on the door. “Not a word.” He pulls us both from the bed, hands me his dressing gown and wraps me in it.
Is this a new nightmare?
Cold metal presses against my palm, and when I stare at the knife in my hands, I’m suddenly very awake.
“Help is coming, Naomi. But you need to be prepared.”
My hand shakes, and Dom grips it, keeping the handle of the knife in place.
“What’s happening?”
“Naomi. Listen,” Dom says quietly but firmly. “There are people in this house that want to kill me. I don’t know if they know you’re here, but I need to act as if they don’t.”
Sliding the long sleeve of the robe over the blade, he grips my chin, capturing my full attention. “I’m going to face them.”
“No.” Bile rises, and I grip his arm with my spare hand.
“Yes. I can’t risk them finding me here with you. I need to attack before they do.”
“They?”
“Listen carefully, Naomi.” He swallows hard—afraid. “If someone comes through that door, you need them to think you’re unarmed. If they see the knife, they’ll act quickly, but if they think you’re unprotected, they’ll take their time.”
What? Killing me?
My wide eyes and rapid heartbeat speak the words I can’t, and Dom grips the back of my neck. “It’s like poker, Naomi. If you let them think they have the upper hand, they’ll fuck up.”
“I…”
“Naomi. You don’t show your cards until you’re ready to play them, and you don’t reveal that knife until you’re ready to use it.”
Fuck!
“Stay quiet, Treacle.” Pulling my face closer, his lips crash into mine before he quickly pulls away.
“What about you?”I need you too.
Dom says nothing, just points to the far corner of the room, gesturing for me to go there, and then slips out of the door. The lock turns, and then it’s silent, save for the blood rushing around my body, bashing against my ears.
A crashing sound from below has me backing against the wall, the room spinning as the panic rises. More noises follow, then what sounds like feet racing up the stairs, and I hold my breath, listening in the hope of identifying them.
It could be Dom or the promised help.
BANG!
The bedroom door cracks with the force of whatever just crashed into it, but the lock still holds.
BANG!
The wood in the middle splinters, all hope of help fading.
BANG!
The door flies open, I swallow my heart, and hope leaves the room as Connor strides in.
It’s just like poker.Except, I’ve never been scared when playing poker, trusting my instincts and abilities… I’ve never gambled with my life.
“Hello, Naomi,” Connor smiles eerily.
