Page 59 of Executing Malice
She’s already at the bank when I pull up in my usual spot. The lights are on and I can see her moving around behind the desk with quick efficiency. Her head comes up with the growl of my engine and I watch her eyes narrow and her jaw tense.
I did consider not letting her see me. Let her continue thinking she’s won, but she hasn’t and she won’t. Hiding will only solidify her fears that she was right in all her accusations.
So, I make sure she can see me. See that I’m not fucking hiding. Hell, I don’t even care if she calls the non-brother. Let him try and keep me from her.
I cut the engine and get comfortable. Knowing Leila, she will either confront me or ignore me. I’m fine with either. We have nine whole hours to figure this out.
But Leila already seems to have when she snatches up a beige tote and marches straight for me. Her strides are anger fueled, mirroring the inferno snapping behind those piercing green eyes.
I don’t dismount. I remain casually in my seat, posture as relaxed as I can when my stomach is in turmoil.
What if she tells me to leave?
What if she didn’t like my gift?
There are so many outcomes to her charged approach.
“Are you out of your fucking mind?”
Uh oh...
The tote slams into my chest with the weight of a small bowling ball. It nearly knocks the wind from my lungs and me off my bike. I barely manage to grab it before the contents spill free.
“This needs to stop,” she snaps, poking the spot she’d struck with a finger. “No more weird shit on my porch. I swear to God...” she breaks off to take what she probably thoughtwould be a calming breath, but she still looks pissed when she fixes her eyes back on me. “What the fuck is this?”
I glance down at the gold lid peeking out of the bag. Then back at her.
“A jar.”
Her lips mash together like she’s fighting back her temper. “What’s in the jar?”
I thought it was pretty obvious, but I can see how it would be confusing.
“Condoms.”
“Used!” She winces at the ringing amplification of her snarl. Her gaze darts around us to make sure no one else heard her outburst. “Used condoms,” she hisses. “Why the fuck are you leaving a jar of used condoms on my porch?”
Okay, maybe I should have left a note. Clearly, my motives weren’t clear.
“Because I thought of you every time I filled one.”
Her lashes flutter. “There’s like hundreds in there.”
I nod. “I think about you a lot.”
A sweet, warm pink fills her cheeks that remind me of when she laughs too hard, or when she cums. It brightens her eyes. Gives them a soft glow that makes me think she finally sees it.
I get excited when she takes a step closer. It bubbles in my chest as she leans in.
“Stop it. This isn’t normal behavior.”
She can’t see it, but I frown. “Who gives a fuck about normal?”
“Me! I do. These things you keep leaving me, make no sense. They’re weird and ... terrifying. I don’t understand them.”
For a long moment, I can only stare at her.
Hurt.
