Page 13 of The Sinners Gambit

“Look! It’s like we’re already family,” Killian laughs.

“Ugh.” I grab the smoothie and say, “Let's get this show on the road. I’m ready to kick both of your asses.”

“I guess Mommy and Daddy really spent a pretty penny to raise a killer.” The training room is massive, to say the least. It looks straight out of any dystopian story. This would put the Hunger Games training room to shame.

Killian’s jaw ticks. “They were pretty normal actually . . . and are very much dead. My uncle, not so much of either. He’s not normal or dead. He’s the one who raised me.” I bite my lip, which draws his attention.

“I-I’m sorry. No one should lose their parents at a young age,” I say with fake empathy, trying to pry.

Instead of continuing to stare at my lips, he goes to caress the arrows at his side.Why do I want him to be caressing something else right now?I need to do something to get him out of my system.

“I’m sure you know better than anyone how hard it is to grow up without your parents.” Now it’s my turn to be taken over by emotion. I lost the only parent I knew, but he lost both. I never knew my dad, he died before I was born. But it’s still not the same, a brutal attack versus a tragic accident.

“Yeah. Some asshole decided to kill my mom for no good reason. I don’t think it’s the same thing.”

While this does make him turn around, it doesn’t spark anything else from him. “I know a thing or two about untimely and violent deaths. I assure you I get it.”

“Well, I’m sorry if your assurances mean jack shit to me,” I say, grabbing the closest throwing knife and aiming it at him.

He moves to the side, narrowly missing it. “That was cute,” he says, before charging toward me.

I block his right and left arm by swatting them away from me.That’s it. I know I can take him when I’m ready to really try.

I try to kick him in the side, but he blocks it with his hands and pushes down.Fuck.This dance continues for a few more movements until he grabs me by the wrist and twists me around so I’m holding my own body like a straight jacket. Yet a-fucking-gain.

I’m sweating and pissed the fuck off at this point, but I try to get out. Before I can move my other arm, he has that one in a death grip too. “Like I said, little firecracker, that was cute.”

“I fucking hate you!” I scream out as I thrash in his warm arms. None of the tricks I’ve learned over the years are helping, which makes me realize that I’m in over my head.Well, shit.

Not to mention, something about the fighting and being this close to him has my heart racing. And unfortunately, it’s not in a deathly fear kind of way, but more like a clamp-my-legs-shut kind of way.

“In time you won’t, ‘cause this fire you have—that you try to suppress—mirrors my own perfectly. You’ll see.”

“Whyfuckingme?” I ask.

“Because there’s something that draws me to you. It’s been that way since the moment I laid eyes on you,” he whispers into my ear, making shivers run down my spine.

I’m in so over my head here, in so many ways. He’d look so good holding my hands over my head in one hand, while his other hand—fucking hell,stop.

This isn’t how this is supposed to go. I really need to get laid, that’s all this is . . .

“That’s not enough!”

“Maybe not, but then I got to know you—the darkness you hide from the world but explore in private. Through the movies you watch, the books you read, the things you love to do for fun. You have notebooks and secret blogs full of your darkest desires that you think make you evil.” He loosens his grip and lets me go by spinning me to face him. “But they’re all the things that make you unique and perfect. And everything I want in a queen.”

“That’s insane,” I whisper out, my breathing ragged.

“No, what may be insane are my methods. I’m showing you my crazy, so let me see yours. Let it free. Grow your spitfire into a full-blown blaze, because you’re the only bright thing that lights up my world of darkness.”

“I-I . . .” I’m at a loss for words. That was unhinged, but also the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard in my life. I’m failing to tell my heart that it’s not something worth skipping a beat over. The only other people who saw and accepted my crazy were Quinnly and Paps, but this . . . this feels different.

I shake my head. This feels wrong . . . I can’t have feelings for someone as horrible as him. Even if I’m the pot calling the kettle black.

Realizing that all of this has made my usually controlled emotions go into overdrive, he changes the subject. “You did a pretty great job holding me off. Maybe we can work on some strategies you can use to fend someone off for longer, and even put them down.”

I nod my head in response. That’s exactly what we do for the next hour and a half. Killian is a surprisingly great teacher, validating but giving helpful constructive feedback to improve. By the time we’re done we’re both dripping with sweat.

“Wow,” I say, taking a sip of water.

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