Page 20 of Holy Sinner

Grant rolls his eyes and settles down onto the opposite end of the couch. “I knew you were going to fucking say that. Bitch, bitch, bitch, with you.”

“Did you?” I press.

He narrows his eyes at my question. “If you must know, mother, no. I didn’t fucking kill him, even though I wanted to.”

That surprises me. Grant doesn’t have the restraint I do. We might be killers but we kill for different reasons. I’ve always been drawn to the monsters, the bottom feeders. I like watching them when they realize they were never the real predators. I take my time with my targets, plan it out and let it last if I can. But Grant?

Grant is unpredictable at best. He gets away with murder because no one thinks he’s the one they should be scared of. The light from the fireplace plays over his face and softens his features, even though he’s looking at me like he wants to start a war. Grant is handsome, easily beautiful in a way that disarms normal people into thinking they can trust him. He’s the kind of All-American pretty this country gives a fast pass to in life. Which is a godsend because if he wasn’t, Grant would easily be serving life somewhere and not starring in blockbuster hits.

“Why the fuck are you looking at me like that?” he snaps and I flick the license at his head.

“Just thinking God knew what he was doing when he made you pretty.”

Grant tosses the license onto the coffee table and raises an eyebrow. “So you think I’m pretty. I knew it.”

“Of course that’s the part you heard, you fucking sociopath.”

“Takes one to know one.”

I shrug. “Whatever. I’m just proud you didn’t kill him. What are you going to do with that, though?”

“Kill him. Obviously.”

I rub my temples and look up at the ceiling. “Grant…”

“If I don’t kill him he’s going to keep coming for Kit. He’s a dead end but I might be able to get something out of him on the way to taking his head off.”

“What do you mean?”

“He didn’t know who hired him when I roughed him up. Said it was a woman but he couldn’t see her face.”

I cross my arms and shift on the couch to face him. When I move so does he, until we’re mirroring each other, which is bold. Grant only mirrors body language when he’s trying to get someone to trust him. Why does he want that from me now? I trust him enough to share a bed with him and Kit. He’s angling for something else.

“Did anyone see you?” I ask.

“Gentry and his wife.”

“Roland? The music guy?”

Grant nods. “Yeah, that’s the one.”

“What the fuck was he doing at The Cellar?”

“I dunno, taking his wife out on the town to get laid. What else do people do at a sex ballet?”

I smirk. I never figured Gentry to be one for taboo but it’s not bad that they saw Grant. “They’ll be good witnesses that you were the same old golden boy and caught a pap.”

I expect Grant to flip me off but he doesn’t. Instead he nods at me and shifts closer. “Yeah, I thought so too. I asked him if he was the one taking photos of Kit on the lot but he said no. I’m not convinced, though. Not when he said that shit about not knowing who hired him.”

I don’t move, not even when our thighs touch. Grant is close enough that I feel his body warmth. There’s no reason for him to be this close to me. But when Grant’s thigh presses against mine I remember this afternoon when we were both on the floor. He swallows and the slight movement of his Adam's apple pulls my attention from his handsome face to his throat. He’s not wearing a shirt and the shadows play along his collarbone and over his muscled chest and abs.

As much as I want to kill him, I want to fuck him, too.

“I don’t have to be on set, it’s just you.”

“You’ll find him tomorrow then,” I tell him and Grant nods.

“You’ll keep Kit with you. Keep her safe,” he says and when he holds his hand out to touch me, I let him. His touch is light, just a skim of his fingers against my arm, so I reach for him. I wrap my hand around the back of his neck and pull him to me. I card my fingers through his hair with my other hand and smile at the look of bliss that flits over Grant’s features. There’s something about the way he looks with my hand in his hair that sets me off.

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