Page 19 of Run From Me

His words wokeme the hell up from whatever this new liquid courage was. I was attracted to the giant prick.

The breaths I took shuddered against a tightening in my chest.

Attracted? Yes. That was obvious. But something else I didn’t want to think about tried to cloud every rule I tried to live by.

Keep your head low.

Want nothing.

Piss off anything that walked.

Finally, my breathing was a bit easier for the next second.

What the hell had he just said?

“Take me home?”

He was confusing, and if I were smart, I’d be afraid of him and the gun that was pretty clear under his jacket.

Rule three coming right up. Not because it was ever a smart rule, it was just the one my brain seemed to like to hide all the pain through.

“No.” That was all I could muster. I didn’t want to go home.

I glared at him and threw a finger against those hard pecs that I’d pretend weren’t just one more perk of all that was Xander.

“I. Can’t. Go. Home.”

He didn’t seem to catch the waver in my stupid voice. Where was all that liquid courage? Other than just sitting in my stomach making me regret the cocktail of whatever had been in reach. I couldn’t go home. But why? What could I tell him that would hide all my shit.

I grabbed his shirt in my fist and fought the urge to pull him against me.

“I was supposed to go back to the morgue, but I can’t. Not like this.”

I didn’t actually know what to say. I’d call in sick if I had to. No one had called with a dead body anyway.

“But no one needs me there either. No one’s died. Yet.”

I threw that little dig in but couldn’t read his fucking blank face.

“Yet?”

I shrugged and folded my arms under my chest like showing more cleavage might get me what I wanted. And what the fuck did I want? Apparently, I really wanted to push buttons or, rather, just his.

“Yeah. Yet. Ever hear of a woman scorned? Want to test the theory out?”

I gasped when his fingers reached out and dug into my hip in a way that should have only brought pain, but instead the strength of those fingers and the edge of pain had me wet and getting more irritated that he didn’t seem to want me.

My shadows seemed to want to rear their ugly heads now. Did I really want him or was it just that I wanted what Rylee had? Is it that I was so starved of love and affection this just seemed convenient?

A little yes. A lot was that there was something about this guy that pushed my buttons more than I’d ever get to his. And I hated it.

The music, the lights? There was no reason I couldn’t look away from him, but a flash of weeks ago made something all too clear. I’d seen him even before I’d known Rylee’s dirty little secret. I’d been pulled to him before I’d ever seen Rylee’s luck. I needed to shake out of this.

It didn’t matter that something about him screamed home to me. Regardless of anything my broken soul screamed. I couldn’t have him.

I blew a curl out of my face. I guess I was as sober as I could be. A few more hours and my shift was over. Was it safer to go to the morgue? Would Ripple just be waiting? Did it matter if I was a few drinks in for either of those things?

My job was the one thing keeping me alive. Giving me a use to the Vipers. I could access a lot of bodies and official reports that they otherwise didn’t have the ability to get their dirty hands on.

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