Page 126 of Killer Kiss

Of course, that’s probably exactly what Riddick liked about it. If he was even here. I didn’t see his car anywhere, but then he wouldn’t be dumb enough to park it in view of the street where people would notice it.

Neither was I.

I rounded the back, and my heart hammered at the sight of Riddick’s truck.

I’d thank Jez later for knowing her brother better than I did.

I got out, not bothering to shut the door quietly because my car engine would have given away my arrival anyway. With determined steps, I strode across the gravel and the knee-high weeds to the arena’s back door.

The handle turned beneath my fingers, allowing me in.

Fucking cocky son of a bitch. He hadn’t even bothered to lock it.

“Riddick!” I shouted into the darkness. My voice echoed around the old rink, bouncing off the high ceilings.

There was no reply. I moved farther in, running my finger along dust-covered bleacher-style seats and eyed the circular shape in the middle of the space that had once held ice. At one end, a tunnel mouth led to a deeper darkness I couldn’t see beyond.

The cry of pain that came a second later came from that direction.

The sound speared through me, but it also brought hope.

He was alive.

“Banjo!” I shouted, running down the last few stairs and pushing up and over the banister that would have once stopped new skaters from completely hitting the decks. I headed for the tunnel, trying to work out what this would have been used for. The machine that smoothed the ice, maybe? The opening seemed too big to lead to the player locker rooms.

Another scream of pain had me both wincing and doubling down on speed. “Banjo!”

A light flickered on in front of me, bringing me to a screeching halt.

“Took you long enough.” Riddick swung a camping lantern from his fingers. “Your boyfriend and I have been waiting for you for ages.”

My gaze flickered to Banjo.

I had to bite down on my lip.

He was on a chair behind a desk. His dirty-blond hair stained red with blood that seeped down his temples and onto his cheeks. His hands were flat on the table, but I gasped at the sight of a knife embedded in each, pinning him in place, though neither seemed to be bleeding too profusely.

I shuddered at the thought his legs could be pinned in the same way.

Riddick chuckled. “You and lover boy are reunited! Say hello!”

Banjo didn’t say anything.

I stared at Riddick, not wanting to give him more information about the truth of the situation but not wanting to make it worse either. He was a loose cannon. An explosion waiting to happen at any minute if I cut the wrong wire.

“Banjo was your target?” I needed to know if my assumption was right.

“Would you have been able to kill him if your mother had given him to you?” he scoffed at me. “We both know you couldn’t kill someone you had feelings for.”

I shook my head. And this right here was why I took my time with a target. Why I did my research. Watched. Put some goddamn fucking thought into my kills.

So I didn’t royally fuck up like Riddick just had, in assuming Banjo was the brother I was in love with.

But Riddick was cocky. Lazy. He thought he was so good he didn’t need to put in the effort.

It was that very lack of preparation that had led us here.

It gave me the upper hand because he had gotten it so. Damn. Wrong.

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