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My mom had been lying on the couch, passed out with an empty bag near her. A spoon and needle on the floor next to her. The band still loosely around her arm.
That hadn’t alarmed me. I’d walked in on my mom in that exact state since before I could remember.
It was the moving curtains.
Momma would’ve lost her mind if she’d known the window was open, which is why it always stayed firmly shut unless I was airing out the trailer. And since her other addict friends would’ve just gone through the door, I had a hunch on who it might be . . . considering our run-in the night before and what he would know was missing.
I’d only taken three steps into my room before I felt him. My body tensed with awareness but my stomach curled in anticipation.
And I hated him for that.
Hated the feeling.
I sighed and let my knife slip down so the handle was in the tips of my fingers.
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this, Nightshade.”
As soon as I heard him shift, I whirled around, throwing the knife in that direction blindly.
My eyes landed on his a second before my knife embedded itself in the wall a few inches from his head. He never flinched.
His arms were folded over his chest, a blade peeking out beneath one.
I lifted a brow. “Getting slow, Nightshade.”
“Kieran.”
I shrugged. “Nightshade.” I walked to him and forced my outward appearance to remain normal though everything inside had just shifted into madness.
I hated him for that too.
Keeping my eyes locked on his, I grabbed the handle of my knife and yanked it out of the wall. “You didn’t even flinch.”
“Your aim is off.”
“Considering I didn’t aim, I would say that was a damn good throw.” I grinned widely and ran the tip of the blade over one of his arms before folding it and tossing it on my bed. “So, are you going to tell me why I have the pleasure of finding you in my bedroom, or am I going to have to guess?”
“You know why I’m here.” Those cold eyes narrowed on the curl of my lip before darting up to meet mine, a question hidden behind the ever-present hatred. “No laughing tonight?”
“Depends on whether I start finding you amusing. Right now, I only want to hate you.” I felt myself swaying toward him. Felt myself wanting to know what his chest and arms felt like beneath my fingertips.
And I had no idea why.
I shouldn’t feel that way. He was the enemy. A man who was disgusted by me. One I needed to hate. Yet, it was there. A slow burning in my veins that made me feel unbalanced and unhinged and weak. So weak. Because for the first time in my life, I wanted a man’s touch. A man’s lips against my own.
And that man was an assassin.
I took a step closer.
Idiot.
“If you planned on hurting my mom, you missed your chance. So you can leave now, because I won’t let you near her.”
A grin touched his face. It was challenging and taunting, menacing and threatening. And it made me tremble in a way that nearly brought me to my knees.
My fingers ached to reach out and touch those full, perfectly slanted lips.
What the hell is wrong with me?
