Page 27 of Devious Knight

“Thank you,” Alek replies, proving me right—he’s not an ass. At least not to me.

He takes a cocktail from the tray and even acknowledges me with a small smile. The others, however, seem to loom before me with a dark presence like Harry Potter dementors waiting to suck my soul from my body.

They’re each more than a foot taller than me but their sheer intensity makes me feel like a gnat next to them.

With hardened stares Dmitri and Logan each take a drink. Kade hangs back and just stares at me, his eyes displaying the wealth of his dislike for me.

But there’s something else I notice lurking in the corners of his blue irises. I can’t put my finger on it, but it looks like interest or fascination. It’s the kind of look you’d give something you’re certain you won’t like, but something about it makes you curious.

It’s an odd thought to associate with a person—me.

After far too many seconds float by and the uncomfortable staring continues, I assume Kade doesn’t want a drink. I’m about to move away but then he steps forward and extends one large hand to grab the glass closest to my chest.

He doesn’t touch me but it feels like he does. The ghostly sensation feels like he reached through my skin and into my chest to rip out my heart.

I can’t believe I ever had any feelings for him or that I spent hours on end for years obsessing over him.

I was so stupid. Can I call myself young and dumb if I was only like that a handful of months ago? Probably not.

Thankfully I know better now, but being this close to him is jarring. I haven’t been this close since that night at the party when he was horrid to me.

Once again I want to ask him what the hell I did to him but it’s not the right time or place. And I don’t know when any time or place will feel right.

Without taking his eyes off me he takes a sip of the drink.

I turn to go, wanting to get away as quickly as I can.

“Don’t go too far, Lolita.” His command stops me and I look over my shoulder at him.

It’s the first he’s spoken to me since that night. I almost forgot what his voice sounds like.

And Lolita?

I hate that nickname because it’s never said with any good intentions. I earned it in high school because of my obsession.

It sounds worse tonight, and more hurtful because he’s never called me that.

Taking a measured breath I look away and walk over to the corner near them. It’s the designated space for the waiters to stand. There I stay on display.

Kade and the guys quickly become the center of attention when a man I recognize as a sports newscaster for ESPN starts talking to them.

They talk and talk and talk, but the whole time Kade’s gaze never strays too far from me.

Chapter Seven

Isabelle

The wind rustles against the studio windows, making the glass rattle. It sounds like someone trying to force their way in.

My hands still and I allow the chisel to dangle between my fingers while I gaze out the window, out into the night, trying to see whether I’m right.

Is someone—Kade—trying to get in here?

He could be watching me again. Why wouldn’t he? Apart from football, creeping me the fuck out seems to be his new favorite sport.

Seeing him the other night at the fundraiser was horrible. I stood in that corner holding the tray of drinks like an idiot for almost an hour before he left with the group.

God, I would never want to be alone in here with him. In here where no one would hear me scream if he decided to do something to me.

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