Page 170 of A Vicious Love

Sienna’s mouth twitched. “It probably won’t kill anyone,”

“You don’t know that.”

“No,” she admitted. “I don’t.”

“Exactly.” I looked down at her. “Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“Did anyone touch you during the evacuation?”

Her brow creased. “No.”

“Did anyone push you?”

“No.”

“Did anyone speak to you in a way I would dislike?”

She paused. That pause nearly ruined several lives. I scanned the area memorising possible targets before they scattered like rats. Then looked back at my baby.

“Sienna.”

“No,” she said quickly. “No one did.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You hesitated.”

“I was thinking.”

“About?”

“Well you dislike most ways people speak.”

Then, against my will, something in my chest shifted. A dry little spark of the girl who used to talk to me without measuring every syllable.

I looked at her mouth.

Do not stare at her mouth on a public street while pretending to conduct a safety inspection.

I looked at the building instead.

“Most people speak badly.”

“That seems harsh.”

“Most people are badly made.”

Her mouth did it again. The tiny twitch.

Jesus Christ.

I was going to start rewarding entire neighborhoods for amusing her.

I glanced toward Reeves, who had arrived in a second car and was already speaking to one of the fire marshals. Good. Someone needed to find me a responsible adult to blame.

“Who is in charge here?” I asked.

Sienna’s eyes widened slightly. “Jamison.”