His jaw tightens. “Do you want me to handle it?”
“Not here.” I shake my head once, though curiosity about his question crackles through my nerves. “Let him think we didn’t notice. Let him believe he’s clever.”
Kieran doesn’t like that. I feel it in the way his posture changes, the way his hands flex before he rolls his shoulders to loosen them.
“Daniel already knows you’re staying with us,” he says.
I smile faintly, though I figured as much with the idiot showing up here. “Good.”
He looks at me with obvious confusion on his face. “That will make him more dangerous.”
“No,” I say softly. “It’ll make him impatient.”
Kieran considers that as he takes the cold brew from my hand and sets it in our cart, like we’re just another couple arguing over caffeine.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks, those green eyes boring into me as he steers us further down the aisle.
He sees everything.
I don’t lie.
“No,” I tell Kieran, my tone flat even though the corner of my mouth lifts in a crooked grin. “But I’m ready.”
I glance toward the window one more time, and across the street, Daniel shifts his weight from foot to foot, as if he can feel the charge in the air.
Like he senses my malevolence without being in my presence.
I’ll simmer in this feeling for a little longer while I plan out his murder. It should be as simple as picking out my favorite ice cream.
