That’d changed.
Now I had more wariness than hope. More discomfort than familiarity. “Let me go.”
His hands swept from my shoulders to my cheeks, his touch raw and violent. “Do you understand? I need you to lie. Stare into their goddamn faces and lie.”
I braced myself in his imprisonment. “I’m not lying. That bastard needs to be in prison.”
His forehead crashed against mine, bruising me all over again. I winced as he rolled his head on mine, our eyes so close, our breaths shared. There was something dangerously intimate and shockingly threatening about the way he had me trapped. “Lie.”
“No.”
His fingers dug into my cheeks. “Lie.”
“I’m not letting him beat you senseless again.”
“It’s not your choice.”
“It is if you won’t help yourself!”
“Goddamn you, Olin.” His eyes snapped shut, his aggression slid from his fingers and he let me go. Stroking my hair with utmost softness, he murmured, “You’re so good. So kind. You’ve always fought for those who needed to be fought for. I understand why you did what you did. I get that you called the police for my sake.” His lips twitched in an agonising smile. “You did it to protect me. But, O...” Any sign of softness vanished under another avalanche of suffocating snow. “I need you to lie.” The glisten of something heart-breaking flickered in his gaze. “Lie and you save my life. I beg you.”
I sniffed back more trembles, more tears. “What on earth are you involved in?” I wanted to cry for him, to hug away his hurt. But I was afraid. Terrified to my bones. “What’s going on?”
Another fist pounded. “Police! Open this door immediately!”
Gil shuddered. With a heavy shake of his head, he collapsed to his knees before me. He flinched as his own pain from the previous beating drained him of his reserves, but his face was open, imploring, desperate. “You have to trust me on this. I can’t say why, but I can say it’s a matter of life and death.”
“Tell me.”
“I can’t.”
Another pounding on the door. “Last warning!”
Gil made a sound of a man knowing he was about to suffer, his gaze flying over his shoulder to the door. The door that would any minute now be broken down by law enforcement.
I reached for him, unable to see him on his knees.
He grabbed my hands, soared to his feet, and once again trapped my cheeks with calloused palms.
My breath caught as his fingertips branded me. Our eyes locked, and I forgot how to speak, how to think, how to argue. Deep within him, I saw a war that’d been raging for years. A war he’d kept hidden. A war that didn’t make sense.
He was losing.
He was almost defeated.
I sucked in a painful breath as he nudged his nose with mine, once again the master at breaking me. “I’m begging you, otter.”
My knees buckled. Tears pooled faster. I tried to get away, but he only held me tighter. “Don’t do that. Don’t you dare use old nicknames now.”
Those nicknames were sacred from a happier time.
They were not his to use.
Not anymore.
“I need you to trust me.” His breath was a vicious kiss on my lips.
“You broke that trust years ago.”
“I know.” His eyes squeezed shut. He wobbled against me, revealing just how much this crippled him. “Just give them a false description and wrong number. That’s all I ask.” His fingers fell away as his shoulders slouched with despair. Bone deep, soul ripping, end of the world despair.
I backed up, studying him through my tears as the police knocked one last time. “Open this door or we’ll break it down!”
With a grimace that tore out my heart, Gil marched through the office and into the warehouse. He didn’t know if I’d do as he asked. He didn’t try to force me into obeying. He merely left his life in my hands, his plea still echoing around me.
Lie.
I beg you.
I gave into a sob, clamping a hand over my mouth to stifle more.
I’d called the police to protect him.
I’d thought I’d done the right thing.
But what if...what if I’d condemned him to something worse than I could ever imagine?
Help him.
Sucking in a deep breath, I shoved away my tears. I swallowed my sobs. I locked down my pain and confusion.
Defend him.
I curled my hands against the pounding in my head and put one step in front of the other. I left his small apartment, cut through his office, and entered the permanently chilly warehouse.
Lie for him.
Gil stood frozen by the door, one hand outstretched to open the handle, the other opening and closing by his side. His entire aura rippled with agitated entrapment. Blood decorated his jeans and T-shirt from his fight. His hair tangled and as wild as his current frame of mind.
He stiffened as I stepped quietly toward him. My cheeks still slicked with wetness, but I kept wiping, kept hiding what I could.
“Police!” The knocking turned vicious. “Open this goddamn door!”
Our eyes once again found each other.
Time stood still; I managed to find a steadier breath. His stare glowed with gratefulness. He bowed his head in reverence, his lips moving wordlessly. “Thank you.”
I nodded, straightening my spine and looking past him at the door.
He owed me.
He’ll tell me why...he will.
With a deep breath, he pressed the handle and opened it wide.
We weren’t in any state to be seen by police. I had no ability to lie. Gil was obviously not of rational mind. Yet, he painted himself in a perfect camouflage as he stepped to the side and opened his arm in invitation. “Sorry for the delay. Big place.” His voice was steady and cool—a direct contrast to the manic moments of before. “Come in.”
I smoothed my skirt and blouse, feeling guilty for no reason as two police officers stepped into Gil’s workspace.
A young man with slicked back black hair and an older woman with a short red bob wore matching uniforms and scowls, inspecting the studio as if we’d hidden body parts in the paint bottles.
The woman’s stare landed on my whitewashed face. “You okay, ma’am?”
I tried to see it from her point of view. The delay in answering the door. The woman shell-shocked behind it. The man barricading entry into his establishment.
If I were her, I’d ask me if everything was all right, too.
The problem was, things weren’t all right.
But I’d committed to protecting Gil.
From things I don’t understand.
I smiled weakly, not having to fake the discomfort in my voice. “Sorry, I’m a little in shock. It’s my fault we didn’t open the door sooner.”
Gil never took his eyes off me, granting silent support, watching my every move.
The woman flicked him a suspicious look before coming closer to me without an invitation. She looked me up and down. “Were you hurt in the altercation?”
I nodded, the key to lying was to take the truth and embellish, just a little. “Yes. I’m okay though. Nothing serious.”
She didn’t look as if she believed me, her gaze travelling over my gravel-dusty office outfit. “Were you the one who called about the attempted kidnapping?”