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I released her and turned, going back to the sofa, tucking the contents of the box back in, and fastening the latch. I’d cleared some stuff out of my father’s house and brought it in for the driver to take to my apartment at Delcour tonight.

“I look like her.” I heard Rika say. “Don’t I? That’s why you’ve always hated me.”

I hesitated.

Like her. Like Winter.

Blonde hair, blue eyes, same age, same wild purity… Like the innocence of a tornado or a raging hurricane.

“I hate all of you,” I mumbled. I don’t even blink saying the words.

I hate all of you. Hate all of who? Their little group I was once a part of? Women? People, in general? Who knew, and she didn’t ask.

But part of me wanted her to understand.

Jesus Christ.

We needed to get back to business.

She reached for the door, but I called her back.

“Erika?”

I saw her stop out of the corner of my eye as I walked for the cabinet and pulled out one of the two handguns I had stored there. I ejected the magazine from the Glock and checked the chamber to make sure a bullet wasn’t loaded and then held the gun and clip out for her to take.

Her eyebrows shot up.

“It’s untraceable,” I said.

I wasn’t allowed to own firearms, being a felon and all, but oh well.

Her eyes shifted side to side, and she looked confused.

Impatient, I closed the distance between us and pushed the shit into her hands.

“Learn to use it.”

“Why do I need this?” she asked, still holding the handgun like she was debating on whether or not to drop it and run.

“Because my father is smarter than we are. He’ll be onto us eventually. You might need it.”

“So if your dad comes after me, you’re giving me a gun to kill him?” she asked, sounding sarcastic. “So he doesn’t kill me instead?”

I let out a sigh. “Fuck, you’re dumb,” I said. “Like he’d come after you himself. That’s for the guys he’ll send. If anyone kills him, it’ll be me. Now get out.” I jerked my chin toward the door, pulling another cigarette out of the pack. “I’ll call you when I have your shit.”

I lit the end and tossed the lighter onto the table in front of me. “Unless you want to stay,” I said, softening my voice and letting my eyes fall down her body. “Your fiancé is out of town, and it’s my wedding night. We could…play chess.”

And by chess, I meant…

But she just shook her head. “That’s how I know you’re not half as dangerous as you pretend to be,” she said. “You only ever threaten.”

I tapped the cigarette into the ashtray, my mood turning solemn as the smoke streamed into the air. “Sometimes,” I nearly whisper. “And sometimes I mean exactly what I say.” I looked up at her. “So trust me when I say you’ll never escape me. None of you will.”

I watched her, trying so hard to look defiant, but the barest hints of awareness, fear, and doubt still seeped through. She knew I wasn’t going anywhere.

Without a word, she turned and left, leaving the door wide open and letting the music pour in as she disappeared.

Fuck you. This won’t go how you think it will go.


Tags: Penelope Douglas Devil's Night Romance