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I moved toward the door, the knife firmly clutched in my hand. My grip was so tight my knuckles were turning white.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, throwing me a bit. When I looked down at the screen, it was a number I didn’t recognize. The smart thing would be not to answer it and instead call the police to handle him, but I had made a string of bad decisions lately, and I answered the phone.
I pressed the phone to my ear and waited to hear who was on the other end.
“Open the door,” his voice was the last I had expected to hear.
“Daniel?”
“No, Santa Clause. Open the door. I’m outside.”
I walked over to the door and peered through the small peephole, and sure enough, he was standing in his coat and suit.
“What are you doing here?” I asked him over the phone.
“It seems you forget we live in the same building. Will you open the door?”
“We do, but this is the fifth floor; you live on the 21st. You have no business being here.”
He snapped his words to the peephole like he could see me from outside. “Open the damn door, Selena. Don’t make me break it down because I will.”
“Fine.”
I stepped away from the door and undid the hinges and the lock. I pulled it open to reveal the tall, brooding man who stood with a scowl.
“How can I help you, Mr. Sinclair?”
Chapter ten
Taco Fridays
Selena
Hestoodtherefora moment, not saying a single thing. He just stared at me in his normal brooding way. I shifted on my feet and looked up at him.
“Can I help you?”
The silence was growing annoying, and having him here set me off. Every time he was close, something inside me would spark to life in ways that I could not fully comprehend.
It was both exhilarating and maddening.
“Have you eaten?”
What a bizarre question for him to ask. “Why?”
“Grab your coat.”
I rested my hip on the side of the door, and that’s when his eyes fell to the hand that held the knife in its iron grip. I quickly placed it behind my back, but it was already too late. He had seen it.
“A knife?”
“I live alone, and it was the first thing I grabbed. But why am I even explaining myself to you? You came here unannounced. You didn’t even know what floor I live on, so you should be explaining yourself, not trying to interrogate me about protecting my home.”
“Protecting?” He cocked his eyebrow in a challenge and grabbed my wrist to show the knife. “How was a butter knife going to help you?”
“I did not bring a butter kni—oh fucking hell.” Sure enough, in my hand was a butter knife. “In my defense, I had thought it was a steak knife. And either way, what is it to you? You aren’t my father.” Not that he would have cared if I lived or died. The man had been out of my life since I was only five.
Daniel’s eyes turned hard. “Is someone bothering you? Did something happen?”
