A Deep and Dark December(40)

“Sit down, Keith.”

“When your girlfriend tells you to sit down with that look on her face, it can’t be good.” He sat on the sofa, his chuckle forced and off. “Next you’re going to tell me we need to talk.”

“We do.”

“What’s this about? I thought things were going great.”

She eased into the chair opposite him. “They were.”

“Were… Look, I don’t have to stay over tonight. If you’re not ready—”

“It’s not about that.”

“Then what’s going on? You’re making me nervous here.”

“I need to ask you something.”

“Oh, I get it.” He relaxed back, laughing a little, his cheeks pinkening. “We should have talked about this sooner. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

She blinked at him, thrown off. “It’s not?”

“You’re entitled to know about my past. I’d ask about yours, but a guy wants to imagine there was no one before him.”

“My past?”

“I want you to know I’m, uh…clean. And I brought protection. That’s the man’s duty, right?”

“No, Keith.” Oh, god. This conversation was quickly spinning out of her control. “That’s not it.”

“I should probably ask if you’re on, ah…birth control.”

“I am, but that’s not what I wanted to talk with you about.”

He tilted his head to one side, studying her as though she was the lock to the store safe and he’d forgotten the combination.

She decided she’d better just spit it out. “I know you had an affair with Deidre Lasiter.”

He jerked as though she’d slapped him. “I—”

“Were you the father of her baby?”

He surged to his feet, his fists flexing and unflexing. “Where’d you hear this?”

She stood too, needing to stay on even ground with him. There was something in his tone she didn’t trust. “Does it matter?”

“Hell yes, it matters.”

“Is it true?”

He paced away then back, his face flushed, his jaw rigid. She’d never seen this side of him. He was always so damn placid. She’d taken that calmness at face value, never imagining that it might be nothing more than a cover.

“Tell me where you heard this,” he demanded.

“Why aren’t you answering my question?” But she knew why.

He gripped her by the arms. Hard. “Who told you?”

She tried to break out of his hold, but he only dug his fingers in deeper, pulling her up against him. For the first time she was afraid of him. Gone was the amiable do-gooder she’d considered giving herself to. In his place was a desperate man. His panic was contagious, flowing from him into her. Her heart stuttered in her chest, her fight or flight instinct kicking in.

He gave her a shake, making her head bobble back and forth. “Who was it?”

“The sheriff,” she blurted out to protect Candy and possibly herself.

Releasing her, he stumbled back and scrubbed his hands over his face. “Shit.” It was the second time she’d ever heard him swear. Both in the last ten minutes. He headed for the door. “I have to go.”

“Keith?”

“What?” Impatience made his answer a curse.

She swallowed a sob. “I don’t want to see you anymore.”

He threw open the door, causing it to bang against the wall and slam closed behind him. Her watery knees gave out and she sank down, missing the chair and hitting the floor instead. Pain shot through her. Tears stinging the backs of her eyes, she covered her face with shaking hands. She let out a breath when she heard his car start and peel away from the curb. Until tonight she’d never considered Keith could be violent. She rubbed her arms where his fingers had dug into her flesh.

For a moment she’d thought he was going strike her. Telling him Graham was the one who’d told her about Deidre might not have been the smartest thing to do. But it was the only thing she could think of at the time. And it had worked. She’d seen the fear in Keith’s eyes. Her lie may have been the one thing that had saved her from Deidre’s fate. She shuddered, remembering Deidre’s body lying on the floor, blood pooled around her.

And then the vision struck, knocking her to the floor and flinging her out of her living room, into a darkened hotel room. Deidre laid in the bed, nude, the sheet barely covering her, exposing both her breasts and one leg. Dust motes danced in the thin beams of light that eeked through the threadbare drapes. Next to her, the large shape of a man rolled toward her, his hairy legs hanging off the end of the bed. He reached for Deidre, palming her large breast. His face shadowed, the man moved over Deidre, parting her thighs. One of his hands disappeared beneath the sheet.

Deidre shifted, raising her arms over her head and arching her back. She made a purring sound, widening her legs. The man lowered his dark head to her breast. Writhing beneath him, Deidre clutched his head to her.

“Oh, God,” Deidre panted.

Erin clapped her hands over her ears and turned her head. She didn’t want to see or hear this. Focusing her thoughts, she struggled to get out of the vision, but the rawness from Keith’s visit made it difficult to concentrate. She fixed her gaze on a red and blue sign she could just make out through the curtains. The shape of the letters triggered a familiar memory she tried to grab a hold of. As the grunts and slaps of flesh grew louder she jammed her fingers in her ears and squeezed her eyes closed, shutting off those senses entirely.