I’m not out of danger yet.
Fourteen
Fox
Fury rockets through me, an unruly fire in my veins that draws on every violent tendency I have. I need to punch something, but first I had to deal with the fucking tail. People are starting to take notice of my digging. I expected it at some point, but I thought it would be later, when I had more proof gathered.
It doesn’t bode well that they found me so quickly, whoever they are. Security for the Landrys, maybe. Or if I’m really unlucky, they could’ve been cops in the chief’s pocket, as dirty as he is with a goddamn license to act under the guise of the law. It’s possible the cook didn’t follow the route I mapped for her exactly, or she’s being watched. The specifics aren’t important right now. I have a bigger problem in my lap.
I throw another furious look at Maisy in my back seat through the reflection in the mirror.
“I think you finally lost them,” she murmurs, craning her neck to peer out the rear window like this is an afternoon joyride.
The urge to lock my fingers around her throat and squeeze for her goddamn actions has me damn near ripping my steering wheel off in a death grip. How dare she hide out in my car. Another surge of rage thunders through me, swallowing the long-dormant feelings that have been nagging me since our detention.
My lying daisy couldn’t resist sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong and now I’m screwed. The plan to get in their house to go through their personal computer for their secrets is a bust. I paid off the cook for nothing, because now Maisy will warn her parents of what I was going to do. It’s what she did before when she broke her promise.
I drive for several minutes in silence, leaving the center of town and heading toward the shipping district where my warehouse is. I won’t take her there, but I can’t do this downtown where there are witnesses.
Once I find an empty parking lot near a hiking trail, I pull in. Maisy doesn’t move while I cut the engine. The energy buzzing beneath my skin becomes too much. I explode from the car, yank open the back door, and grab her, ignoring the little yelp she makes as I drag her out.
“Hey—”
“No,” I bark, slamming her back against the frame of the car. “No.”
Maisy has gotten too comfortable. Ever since I let her on my bike and gave her a ride home, she’s becoming an insolent challenge, forgetting what I’ve promised to do to her. I shouldn’t be that surprised, since promises mean nothing to her. My lip curls. I’ll make sure she doesn’t forget who I really am, just like I won’t forget who she is—a liar.
“I’m sorry,” she says in a rush, eyes wide and hands up in a defensive gesture. I want to rip that goddamn bracelet from her slim wrist. It’s as much of a liar as she is, making me want things I can’t have. “I just…”
My teeth grind and I pin her with my whole body. “You just what? Thought it would be cute to sneak around with me? Think again. I told you, little daisy.” My fingers flex on her upper arms, digging in. “Playtime is fucking over.”
She tips her chin up, her favorite defiant move. “Why do you have a gun?”
I drag in a sharp breath. She never acts like I expect her to. Every fucking time.
“I told you. The rumors about me aren’t wrong. I’m dangerous.”
Run. I want to scream it in her face. But if she did, I’d chase her, hold onto her with every ounce of strength. I can’t let her go.
How can I hate her so much but need her within reach at the same time? Is it the echo of the deep connection we once shared, or something more that twines us together?
“What made you think you had a right to get in my car?”
Maisy frowns and squirms against my immovable body. “I’m glad I did. You’ve gone too far,” she accuses. “You can’t get to me by going through Lana. Leave her out of this and just come at me.”
A hollow bark of laughter punches out of me and I shake my head. It annoys me when Maisy acts like she doesn’t know anything.
“I don’t need your damn cook to get to you.”
“Then why did you pay her for information on the security system on my house?” Her eyes narrow. “And you shouldn’t have stiffed her, either. It sounds like she really needs the money for her daughter.”
Now she pretends to care about others and wants to lecture me on bribing ethics. My brain can’t even process the ludicrousness of it. The version of her that’s kind and caring is another lie.
“I’m not telling you that,” I force out gruffly.
There’s a mutinous little pinch to her mouth that snags my attention to the shape of her lips. A harsh breath leaves me as a new need pushes at my senses. It takes more effort than I want to admit to tear my gaze up, fighting back the ridiculous desire to crash my mouth over hers.
What the fuck is wrong with me? I will not kiss her. I should be shaking her lithe body and demanding she never pull a stunt like this again.