His fists flew again, pounding my head and body Walking through the park, hand in hand, my heart soared.
‘Can I see you again?’ Chris, 37, asked, grinning.
It was last November, and we’d only met a few days before.
Chris Dwyer was a mate of an ex with whom I’d stayed friends.
‘I’d like that,’ I beamed.
I knew that Chris had been in prison before, but hoped it was behind him.
Besides, I’d always had a bit of a thing for bad boys.
It was a whirlwind romance and, within weeks, we were inseparable. But, early on, I saw flashes of his temper
He never directed it at me, though, and I felt safe, protected around him.
Until one day, he was rowing with a mate about money...…
