Page 84 of Executing Malice
“What did we do?” I ask, searching the endless voids peering back at me from the shadows of my bedroom.
His grin is sinister. It’s the slow uncurling of pure, unadulterated glee in the darkest form. It’s evil. And I find myself grinning back.
“That you are going to have to wait and see,” he says lazily. “Just because you got to see my face early does not mean you’re free of my gifts.”
I do like his gifts.
I raise a teasing eyebrow. “Do I get a hint?”
His fingers tighten just enough to prickle the back of my brain with hints of pleasure. “No. I want you scared and unsure when I make you scream.”
Despite the whirlwind of the morning, I bite my lip and give a little squeal of excitement.
“Scared,” he mutters, brows furrowing, contradicting the quirk in his lips. “That is not a scared sound.”
I laugh and he kisses me.
The haunting familiarity strikes me the way it had in the butcher’s basement. The world stills, not just around me, but deep in my soul. It’s so achingly sweet, so vulnerable. Like he’s trying to feed me parts of his own heart to complete mine and I sink into it. I chase that awareness. I try to hold the pieces fluttering just out of reach. It’s right there, at my fingertips and still miles away.
“I promise to be adequately terrified on the day,” I vow when he releases me.
He hums softly, with a hint of amused disbelief. “See that you are or I’ll be upset after all the effort I put into your surprise.”
I open my mouth to respond when a third voice joins our conversation.
“Leila?”
We both stiffen as Reed’s voice fills the house.
I stare up into my biker’s face ... Dante’s face and see the annoyance, but I’m already scrambling out of his arms and over his naked frame. With only my T-shirt covering my bare ass, I hurry out of the bedroom and shut the door behind me just as my brother rounds the corner, expression unamused as he holds up Dante’s pants and the knife we’d left on the kitchen floor.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
DANTE
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Who does that?
Who just walks into another person’s house without knocking? It’s so rude. This small town hospitality bullshit isn’t going to work once Leila and I get our own place. The door stays locked and we’re going to have cameras everywhere. I am not risking my family’s safety over a false sense of security.
This is proof.
I stay reclined on the bed. My hope is that Leila will get rid of the non-brother and we’ll resume where we left off, but the non-brother seems to be having issues that may take a while.
“What the hell is this?”he’s snapping, in a tone I am not appreciating him using on Leila.
“Why are you here?”Leila is demanding back, rightfully.
“It’s ten o’clock! You were supposed to be at work. I came to check on you.”
My gaze pivots to the clock on the nightstand and I grimace.
Shit.
“What are you talking about?”Leila snaps, understandably given she doesn’t have a watch on.
I throw my legs over the edge of the mattress and push to my feet. I move to the dresser and pull out clothes for her. She’s going to realize she’s late and she’ll panic. At least her clothes will be ready for her to pull on.
