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“Well, I don’t want to be killed. So don’t kill me, okay?”
“I make no promises.” She only smiles at Lucas.I wonder if she knows he would without hesitation.Piss him off, he would off her head, and he wouldn’t lose a wink of sleep over it.
“So, how long were you married to my sister?” Before I can answer, she cuts me off. “And is it even considered legal if she’s already married?”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Thought so. But, hey, if I have to marry you, you have to at least wine and dine me first.”
“You can’t drink here. You aren’t twenty-one.”
“But you can buy a gun?”
“Correct.”
“Damn, that’s some fucked-up shit.”
The car stops at my house, and I get out. Reaching for her bag, she follows, giving a wave to everyone in the car like this is just any other day. I hand her the door keys and nod to it. As soon as she’s up the stairs, I turn back to see Keir already with his window down.
“You should have killed her.” I assumed that’s why he was there—to kill Adora.
“We got what we wanted,” I reply with a sigh.
“No, we didn’t.” He turns away, and Piper drives off.
Scrubbing my hand down my face, I head inside. I find Abigail standing in front of the bookshelf.
“This was hers, wasn’t it? She always had a fascination with reading and an obsession with books.” She picks one up and starts flipping through it. “Especially romance.”
“It is.”
She holds the book in her hands as she turns to face me. “Will I have to marry you?”
“I hope not,” I answer her truthfully.
She doesn’t make a face at my words, simply looks at me, puzzled.
“Do you still love her?”
“I do,” I tell her. “But I also despise her.”
“How you finding that?” She smiles, and it’s unnerving. “Have you considered other avenues?”
“What avenues?” My eyes narrow as she bites her lip, trying to flirt with the wrong person. Again.
“Possibly fucking her out of your system.”
What the fuck am I going to do with this girl?
“No.”
“So you still want to fuck her.”
I shake my head at her words, changing the subject. “Abigail, it’s been a long flight, and I’m ready for bed.” I turn and head to the stairs. “You can take the spare room.”
“I want to sleep in your bed.”
“No.” I don’t bother saying anything else, heading to my bedroom, I shut the door and lock it—I don’t want any unexpected guests sneaking into my bed.
