Page 120 of The House Swap

Jem smiled when he saw her, but it quickly dropped, his expression changing to one of concern, his green eyes narrowing.

‘Poppy, what’s going on? Didn’t you hear me⁠—?’

He broke off, his expression turning suspicious, and she realised her face had given the game away.

His eyes sharpened. His voice dropping. ‘Are you okay?’

Say something. Make him go. She willed herself to formulate the words.

‘Yeah,’ she managed, though even that one word stuck in her throat. ‘I’m fine. I was just in the shower.’

Even to her own ears, it sounded wrong.

Jem frowned, glancing past her into the villa. ‘Then what was that noise? It sounded like a scream?’

Fuck! Think, Poppy.

She managed a strained smile. ‘I just dropped a glass. It made me jump.’

Behind her was nothing but silence.

Where was Martin? Was he mad that she was taking so long?

Jem didn’t look convinced. ‘You’re sure that’s all it was?’ he asked, continuing to stare at her as if he was looking for answers.

The moment was slipping. He didn’t believe her. She couldn’t let him step inside. Everything would explode and it would all be her fault.

‘Yes, I’m sure,’ she said, more firmly this time. ‘I’m fine. In fact, I was actually about to go to⁠—’

A muffled cry cut through her words and her eyes widened.

Was it Keira? Had Martin hurt her?

Jem’s expression tightened. ‘Who’s that?’ he demanded, stepping forward.

Poppy reacted without thinking, reaching out, her hand catching his arm. ‘Wait!’

It was too late. He was already moving past her. The chance was gone.

‘No!’ Poppy started turning, still trying frantically to stop him.

Jem stopped dead as he took in the scene, his eyes widening at Keira, held rigid in Martin’s grip. The knife at her throat.

‘What the fuck!’

Martin’s dark eyes flipped between them and she could see the control he had been holding on to now slipping at the edges.

‘Stay where you are,’ he barked.

Jem looked too stunned to move, and although he didn’t speak at first, Poppy could see him calculating the best way forward.

‘Let her go, Martin,’ he said eventually. His voice was low and controlled.

Martin only laughed at the request. ‘You don’t get to make demands.’

As if to show he was in charge, he pressed the knife close to Keira’s throat.

Seeing her flinch, Poppy’s chest tightened.