Page 118 of Killer Kiss

His eyes burned with rage, but his voice was deep and deliberate. He got in my face, making sure I saw every dark threat that spilled from his mouth. “You will, Ophelia. Because once I take lover boy out, you’ll have no reason not to.” He grinned. “You want me to do it nice and quick? Or should I take my time, slowly gutting him, watching his blood drain out while he screams in agony?”

My muscles locked in fear at the picture he painted. I shook my head hard, unable to keep the terror at bay when his malice wasn’t directed at me but at the man I loved. I opened my mouth to argue, to agree, to say anything that would get him to change his mind.

But he pressed one thick finger to my lips with a smile so evil I knew I would remember it until the day I died.

“Shh, Little Ophelia. Let your husband take care of everything. I’ll kill him in just the way you were supposed to.”

He whipped the pistol into the side of my head, and everything went black.

33

OPHELIA

When I came to, it was dark. The apartment was silent, nothing but the steady hum of the refrigerator to make a sound, but even that felt too much for my aching head.

I groaned as I sat up and gingerly pushed at the sorest spot, wincing at the egg-shaped lump. My entire body hurt, not helped by the hard kitchen floor beneath me.

It took me a good thirty seconds to remember what had happened, panic spearing through the fog.

Riddick. Augie.

No.

I scrambled to my feet, ignoring the way the room spun in dizzying circles around me. My phone had disappeared from the kitchen counter. As had my gun. Shit.

I needed to warn Augie. There would be no fighting back against Riddick. His chilling threats replayed over and over in my head, adding to the building pressure behind my eyes that felt so thick it could explode at any minute. Through bleary eyes, I yanked open the door to my apartment and stumbled out onto the staircase. Down them, clutching at the rail for support, until fresh air hit me in the face.

That helped a little, and by the time I made it halfway down the road to where I’d left my car, my brain had cleared enough for me to remember Augie had been on his way to the club to tell the others about Fawn.

That was good. That wouldn’t be the first place Riddick went, and even Riddick wasn’t stupid enough to try to kill a man with a club full of witnesses.

Except a nagging voice inside me said he might just kill them all, no fucks given to whether he took one life or a dozen.

I’d worried about being like him. That I liked killing just for the sake of it.

Sometime over the past few weeks, I’d realized it wasn’t true.

I didn’t want to be like him.

I wasn’t like him.

I sped through the streets of Saint View, driving erratically, knowing deep in my heart if I didn’t get there in time, Augie didn’t stand a chance.

The car bumped up the curb outside the strip club. The engine was barely off before I was out, running across the sidewalk to the front door, banging my fist against it and shouting his name desperately.

The door opened, and I practically fell through, Eve catching me before I could hit the floor.

“Holy shit, Ophelia? Are you okay?”

I shook my head and instantly regretted it. My headache more painful than any I’d ever experienced. But I pushed past her, into the club, desperately searching the empty building for him. “Augie!”

A man at the bar turned around, and I did a double take. “Vincent?”

My brother grinned at me, a spoon halfway to his mouth filled with a thick, rich stew. “Scythe. Hey, sis.”

I couldn’t work out why he was here. My muddled brain tried to put it all together and only came to the conclusion that I had concussion and was seeing things.

Eve hurried over; her eyebrows knit together in worry. She winced when she noticed my head. “What happened there?”

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