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One by one, I draw the heavy fabric of the curtains closed, plunging each room into dimness. It feels like a symbolic gesture – cutting off Ciarán’s access to my world, even if it’s just on a visual level.
Next, I should call the police, but that means letting them into my home and asking questions about where I know him from. My empowerment drops several hundred levels at the thought of that humiliating experience.
But it has to be done. Reaching for my phone again, I dial 999 and calmly explain my situation.
The operator, a woman, is sympathetic, “We’ll have someone right over.”
“Thanks.” Hanging up, I re-pocket my phone and wait.
Hearing the siren not two minutes later, I jump. That was fucking fast. Maybe they had someone in the area. It’s not the worst, but it’s not the best, either.
A heavy knocking on the front door makes me jump, even though I was expecting it.
“Ma’am?” A loud voice booms.
Walking slowly and steadily to the door, I look through the peephole and see an officer standing there. “Can I see your badge, please?” My voice cracks slightly.
He shows it to me, and I open the door.
“Thank you for coming so quickly,” I say, stepping aside to allow him in.
The officer nods, taking in my disheveled appearance and the shaken look on my face as his partner joins him. “You’ve had a break in, ma’am?”
Nodding, I lead him into the kitchen, gesturing to the bloodstained message on the countertop. “There’s a disturbance in my bedroom, and I just discovered this.”
The officer’s eyes widen as he takes in the message. “Ciarán,” he murmurs, his eyes swiveling back to me. “You got a last name?”
“Gannon,” I mutter, recalling when he introduced himself.
“You know him?”
“It’s complicated.”
The officer nods, pulling out his notepad and pen. “Tell me what you know.”
Taking a deep breath, I tell him everything. About Ciarán, how we met, our one-nighter, and how he’s tracked me down at work and then this.
By the time I’m finished, the officer’s face is grim.
Not a good sign, at all.
9
CIARÁN
Watching the police leave Summer’s house, I smile to myself. She is defiant, and I love that. She is showing me she isn’t afraid, even though I know she must be terrified. She ran from me yesterday. If she were stronger, she’d have stayed and fought. It just makes me even more protective of her.
My phone rings on cue, and I answer it, my eyes never leaving PC Dunsten as he climbs in his squad car.
“Oliver,” I murmur.
“Ciarán. You’re a real piece of work.”
“Nothing she can’t handle.”
“You owe me big for this one. You left your fucking name in blood. Your own as well, I presume.”
“Ah well, it made a statement, no?”
