Page 21 of Killer Kiss

“Will you excuse me for one moment, please?” Jez asked her customer. Without waiting for her to agree, she grabbed my arm and Riddick’s and shoved us toward the storeroom. “Stop staring at those girls like you’re going to eat them alive! Whatever you need to say to Ophelia, say it in there,” she hissed. “Away from my customers.”

“Jez!” I complained, but she pulled the door closed behind us anyway.

Great freaking friend she was. Though I couldn’t blame her. Riddick was more unpredictable than Scythe and twice as deadly because he truly didn’t give a shit about anyone or anything other than himself. Young or old. Innocent or guilty. Riddick killed for the pure pleasure of getting blood beneath his nails.

And I was stuck in a shoebox of a closet with him.

At least Scythe had Vincent to keep him a little bit in check. Riddick had lost all humanity a long time ago. If he’d ever had it in the first place.

He grinned in the dim light, his smile entirely too Joker-like to be comforting. “This feels familiar. Didn’t we play this game at a party once?”

I shifted back an inch, trying to put some distance between us. “Only in my nightmares.”

He chuckled and clucked his tongue. “Now, now. Play nicely.”

“Because you do?”

“Never, but we aren’t talking about me now, are we?”

I sighed. “What do you want? Can we just get whatever this is over with so I can go on with my day, please?”

Treating him like he was my friend’s annoying older brother was the only way I knew to keep him at bay.

He folded his arms over his chest and stared down at me. “Your mom tells me you have a job bag.”

I froze. “Why were you talking to my mom?”

He shrugged one of his broad shoulders. “We’re friends.”

“Friends?” What the hell did that mean? I wrinkled my nose. “You aren’t…”

He gave a deep chuckle. “Sleeping with your mom?”

I didn’t confirm, and he didn’t deny. Oh, vomit. It wouldn’t have surprised me. My parents’ relationship had always been more of a business arrangement than a romantic one. There was no love between them.

Now that I was about as uncomfortable as he could possibly make me, he continued, “Your mom wants me to help you with your job bag.”

I recoiled like he’d slapped me in the face. Which frankly, he might as well have. “What on earth for?”

His finger trailed down my arm. “To hold your hand, maybe?”

“Gag me with a spoon. No thank you.” The insult was out of my mouth before I could stop it. Internally, I cringed, waiting for Riddick to respond. Insulting a man like him wasn’t smart for anyone, and we were in a very small space. Before I even had a chance to shout for help he could have me bleeding out, if he wanted to.

I imagined Jez opening the door to her storage room and finding me dead in a pool of my own blood, all because I was mouthy and had dared to tell her brother I found him kinda repulsive.

Damn. That would suck.

I just wanted to meet up with her for coffee.

But for once, the insult rolled off Riddick’s back like he couldn’t have cared less. “Fine. No hand-holding. I’m not one for public displays of affection anyway. So what’s the job?”

I hadn’t even opened the bag yet. I’d been too busy worrying about my sister and trying to banish thoughts of her hot coworker that kept popping into my brain at inappropriate moments.

Like right now.

Being locked in a closet with Augie might not have been so bad. At least I didn’t have to worry about him slitting my throat.

Riddick snapped his fingers in front of my face. “Do you make a habit of zoning out like that? Is this why your mom thinks you can’t handle a simple job by yourself?”

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