Page 74 of Mayhem and Minnie

I lean back and shrug.

“A neighbor.”

A fucking asshole who deserved what was coming to him.

She blinks rapidly. Her breathing accelerates and as she picks up the spoon, I fear she may break it in two.

For some reason, this amuses me. Not her anger in particular. But the object of her anger. Don’t tell me she’s…jealous?

“Marlowe!” she cries in a scandalized tone.

“Jealous?” I wiggle my brows in question.

“Y-you…” Her lips are set in a mutinous line. She glares at me some more before she suddenly takes her bowl of stew and turns her back to me.

I shake my head at her behavior. As much as it annoys me that I don’t understand where this is coming from, it’s rather amusing. And if it is jealousy, then what about that soulmate of hers? Has she forgotten about him already?

“You’re being absurd, Minnie. Why are you fixated on my body count? It’s not as if it has any effect on you.”

At this point, I’ve already started the game, so I can’t back out and tell her it was all a lie—a misunderstanding, rather. Then, she’d want to know the truth, and while she might agree to keep staying with me while thinking I’m a hoe, I doubt she’d have the same opinion if she knew I’m a killer.

She might not have reacted that badly to me beating the creep from the diner to a pulp, but he’d tried to hurt her. It’s different. I don’t think she’d offer me the same grace if she saw my jar collection containing the ashes of my victims in the basement.

She glances at me. Barely.

“I don’t agree with your morals.” She shakes her head. This time, however, her expression morphs from one of anger to one of disappointment. And somehow that hits the mark because my chest tightens with discomfort.

“It’s the twenty-first century, pet. Welcome to modernity.” I wink at her in an attempt to make light of the situation.

She scrunches her nose in disgust.

“Convenient excuse.” She bristles. “You said you’ve never been in love. So why?”

I raise a brow at her question.

“If you didn’t care about them, then why would you…” She clamps her mouth shut, tipping her chin down and glaring at me aggressively.

“Right. I forgot you’re waiting for that soulmate of yours.”

She grinds her teeth at the mention. “Maybe I should forget about him, too, and get my body count up. Twenty-first century, right?” She sneers. “It wouldn’t be much trouble to find volunteers anyway.”

The words are barely out of her mouth and I’m out of my seat, planting myself in front of her and caging her with my arms.

“I’d like to see you try,” I grit out.

She slowly raises her eyes to look at me, and the sheer sadness I note in them strikes me. There’s moisture on her lashes as if she’s one moment away from crying.

“Remember my conditions, pet. There will be no nudity in front of any man.”

She tilts her head to the side.

“I’m sure it can be managed without nudity, no? I’ve seen people in parking lots, you know. They didn’t have to take their clothes off to get down to work.”

Business. I’m pretty sure she means to get down to business. But the moment is too tense for me to correct her, especially since she looks as if she’s on the verge of jumping on me—literally.

The little feral cat. Somehow, I’d like to see her try that.

“Well, then I’m adding another condition to our agreement. You will not see or entertain any men. You will not go out without me, and you’ll keep your face covered at all times when we’re in public so you don’t attract any attention.”

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