Page 16 of Conflicted Lies

“Thank you?” I roll my eyes. “I can see why you’re so popular with the ladies now.” He smirks and clasps his hands together on top of the table, studying me in a way that pisses me off.

“Did you miss me?” he asks.

“No.” Not to say that I didn’t expect him to show up at any moment. A part of me was relieved when he never did, while the other part was wondering when he would. Because one thing I’m coming to learn about Braxton Hero is that he’s equally as beautiful and persistent as he is stupid and arrogant.

“I would really like to know how you got into my apartment,” he says.

I sigh, frustrated. “Whatever are you talking about?”

“I think you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

We sit here in a stare-off, and I shake my head in disbelief.

“Whether you want to believe it or not, Detective Hero, you’re the only one of the two of us who is fixated on the other. I don’t have the time or mental space to devote to you. It comes with the territory of running a successful career,” I jab. “I’m certain there are plenty of criminals out there who want to break into your apartment. You aren’t exactly the type to make friends.”

“I seemed friendly enough to entice you into my bed once upon a time,” he says. Heat flushes my cheeks, but I don’t look away, holding my ground.

“To be frank, it was more your appearance that enticed me. And you didn’t talk much that night. You speaking is what ruins it all for me now.”

He smirks, leaning in to study me closer. “You think you’re untouchable, don’t you?”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m sure you’re Daddy’s little girl, and you think no one can touch you.”

I scoff. “Are you done? You’re really grasping at straws if all you can do is antagonize a woman minding her own business, reading a book in a diner, wouldn’t you say?”

“Where were you before this?” he questions.

“Is this an interrogation?” I bite back.

“Just a simple question.”

I don’t want to answer the asshole. And, technically, I don’t have to. But it’s not hard for anyone to piece together my whereabouts at these hours. “I was in my studio, working on that sculpture you broke. Should I be sending a bill to your supervisor and mentioning how you invaded my space unwarranted?”

He should know better than to underestimate someone, especially in his profession.

I’m more than happy to play his game. In fact, I hope when I actually kill him, the experience will be humbling for him.Killing him.It’s not as unsettling as I thought it might be, especially even when sitting across from him. If anything, it makes me feel powerful, almost superior, as if I’m in it for the long game, stalking my prey. Is this how my father and cousins feel when they choose a victim? Or do they just do it without a care for who the person even is?

“Does everyone see this side of you?” he asks. “Or am I the only lucky one?”

I sigh, realizing any type of enjoyment is long forgotten, as I stand and grab my book, tucking it into my bag.

“I have places to be,” I tell him, throwing a twenty on the table.

He stands and blocks my path. I release a furious sigh.

“Where are you going?” he asks.

I glare up at him. Why is this fucker so tall? I seriously need to start wearing heels more often. But unless it’s for an event, I just couldn’t be bothered.

“Is that a police question?” I ask, resting my hand on my hip.

“No, just a general one,” he replies casually but makes no move to clear out of my path.

Fine. If he wants to play, we’ll play.

“I have a meeting with my cousin, actually. He’s teaching me how to shoot a gun,” I inform him with a sweet smile, letting my eyes scream how much I can’t wait to fucking kill him. He’s like a pesky bug that won’t go away. I can’t help but grin at the idea of it and how offended he might be if he could see the same visual.