Chapter 18
Eighteen
Poppy
I hadn’t just had sex with Patrick—he’d fucked me senseless. Or at least that was what I used as my excuse when I looked down at my phone and found a handful of new text messages, though I hadn’t heard an alert for them.
I opened my phone and frowned at the unknown number, wondering what kind of solicitation it was this time. I had suspected it was about them trying to reach me to discuss my extended car warranty, but my stomach soured when I read the first one.
UNKNOWN: I know what you did.
UNKNOWN: Did you really think you’d get away with it?
UNKNOWN: You should know by now that there are cameras everywhere.
UNKNOWN: Here’s a secret: Dale wasn’t who you thought he was, and neither am I.
UNKNOWN: I’ll be waiting.
I covered my mouth and stared at the screen, processing each message as my hand trembled. Patrick had gone downstairs to let Travis out while I cleaned up, but I hadn’t heard him come back. When he suddenly appeared in the bedroom, I gasped and dropped the phone.
“Poppy? What’s wrong?” he asked, his brows furrowing in concern.
I shook my head and looked around the room as if that would somehow tell me who had sent those text messages.
“Poppy, you’re starting to freak me out. What happened?”
My lip trembled as I tried to gather the strength I needed to tell him.
“Someone knows that I killed Dale.”