Page 39 of Pretty Threats

For a moment, he clenches his teeth. “Listen, I’m gonna make a lot of money in my lifetime.” He licks his lips and leans closer, so our ragged breath mixes together. “If you don’t want to take the necklace as a gift, take it as reparations for the things I’ve done that have made you sad.”

I close my eyes and shiver.

His mouth moves close to my ear. “And don’t feel guilty for a second. I’ve brought you a million nightmares and heartaches, right? So, take it.”

When I continue to stare at the necklace until each twinkle off the gemstones blurs into one massive glare, he shoves my latte at me.

“Here.” Killian pushes it into my hands, and my fingers close around it mechanically. Then he pulls the necklace from the box, and it dangles like a glittering serpent ready to coil around my throat. One more thing to bind us together.

When he moves to put it on me, my hand shoots out to stop him.

His expression hardens, but his hands pause. “I didn’t think I’d have to force it on you, Raine. That’s not… how I want this to go.”

After a beat, the necklace drops back into the box with a clink. My eyes study his face, watching for signs his dark side is about to emerge.

Instead, when he speaks my name, his voice is smooth and mellow, as though aggression is the last thing on his mind. From him, it’s strange and eerie. Is he resigned to the fact that I’m never coming back to him? And what will that cause him to do?

“In the past, things went too far for you to be able to handle them, Raine.”

His thumb rubs the skin on the back of my hand, sending secret messages into the heart of me. My brain knows he’s dangerous. My body remembers other things, too.

“I understand that now.” He licks his lips. “What if I swore I wouldn’t hurt anyone around you unless you agreed they had it coming?”

My eyes widen. It’s more than he’s ever offered, but it might just be a lie to get what he wants.

“How could I believe you’d keep that promise? What would you swear on? You don’t believe in anything.” I swallow a building tightness in my throat. “You’ve proven yourself untrustworthy, Killian.” My whispered words cause his jaw muscles to clench. Exactly, I think. The rage is always there, ready to rise to the surface whenever I refuse to bend to his will.

In the blossoming silence, my mind returns to the night I was supposed to go to a dance at a nearby high school with the son of one of my dad’s colleagues. It was just a friendly date, nothing serious. Killian warned me that, if I went, the night would end badly. I’d already promised I would go, and I told Killian he needed to leave things alone. I promised him there would be no flirting, nothing physical. I told him he could trust me.

He either didn’t believe me, or it didn’t matter to him that it was platonic. His jealousy, his all-consuming possessiveness, exploded out of him like a bomb. He followed me that night and emerged from the darkness dressed in a black ski mask and black clothes. He hit the boy in the back of the head, and while my new friend was on the ground unconscious, Killian continued to beat him.

Death was in Killian’s eyes.

I couldn’t breathe, but I jerked into action, trying to drag Killian away from the boy. I tore Killian’s pocket while trying to stop him, and a knife fell out. A dreaded thought came immediately to mind. Did he plan to use it after he got done with his fists?

Because it seemed like the only way to save the other boy’s life, I stabbed Killian in the arm. I’ll never forget his eyes turning from malicious to vacant. His hand shot out and squeezed my arm so hard, the knife fell from my grasp.

When he retrieved the weapon from the ground, Killian said, “Blood for blood.”

Before I had time to react, he flicked the blade against my skin and cut a thin line and a sideways V into my chest. While I gasped for breath, he bent and licked the cut, like a fucking vampire, and swallowed my blood.

An instant later, he was suddenly calm and switched into the next phase of his attack plan. The part where he covered his tracks. He grabbed my purse and the boy’s wallet to make it look like a random robbery.

To me, he said, “If you accuse me, Raine, I’ll kill Peter.” His voice was eerily calm when he threatened to murder my dad.

Even now, it’s scary to think about that night. I barely stopped him from killing an innocent guy. And the threat that forced me to keep the horror a secret was the second wave of trauma. Sometimes, when I’m near him, I remember other times, better ones. It creates such dissonance that I almost can’t hold on to what happened last fall. But anytime I lose the thread, I remind myself of the truth. Killian Callahan is a fucking menace.

His hand strokes the back of my head, and I lean away from the touch even as gooseflesh erupts over my arms. Always the dissonance. This unbelievably beautiful man can make me feel like nothing in the universe matters to him except me. And that’s where the danger lies. For each of us.

For him, because if nothing matters but me, he will destroy anyone who tries to get close. For me, because in the buried depths of my corrupted soul, there’s a little piece of me that loves his obsession.

And yeah, that’s the worst part of all.

18

RAINE

“Ineed air.” My fingers fumble with the door handle, and I practically tumble from Killian’s car. Sticky matcha latte spills over my fingers as I stalk a few feet from the Corvette. Stopping to stand in an empty parking spot, I shake my head.

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