Page 43 of The Spider & the Storm

She tried to shrug against my hold as she replied, “I tried knocking.”

I furrowed my brow at her cockiness, even with the blade of a knife pointed directly at her throat. One swift thrust, and she'd be dead. She should be scared. If she knew what I was capable of, she would be. But she didn’t, and I assumed that was why she maintained eye contact and a firm set of her jaw.

My nostrils flared, the adrenaline and irritation singeing against my veins. “You should've knocked harder.”

“Andyoushouldn't leave your front door wide open. There’re some crazy fuckin’ people out there, buddy. Just be glad I’m not one of them.”

“An oversight.” I tipped my head at the fair challenge while internally berating myself for being so careless. I knew better.

“A stupid one.” Her eyes dodged toward the knife, holding steady just above her head. “Are you still planning to stab me, or can you let me go now?”

“Why the hell are you here?” I asked, still maintaining my stance. Still putting pieces together. “Have you been following me?”

Her triple-pierced nose wrinkled as her single-pierced upper lip curled. “Followingyou? What the hell?”

“The rose!” I exclaimed, seeing its soft, perfect petals through my mind's eye. “Did you leave the fucking rose?!”

The woman blinked, startled by my tone, then shook her head. “Dude, I don't know what the hell you're talking about. I came by because it's my day off, and I wanted to thank you for saving my fucking life the other night—that's all. Okay? I'm sorry. If you let me go, I'll—”

I lowered the knife and released her from my hold, taking a step back and gesturing toward the open door. “Leave.”

She seemed taken aback as she lifted her hands to dust off her chest, as if wiping my touch away. “Um … okay … I just—”

“Go,” I stated more firmly, jabbing the knife toward the cloudy, dreary world outside.

“Jesus.” She blew out a breath and walked carefully toward the door, keeping her eyes on me all the way. “Um … thank you … for stopping that guy,” she said as she moved. “You didn't have to, so … thanks.”

I swallowed, hating that I could feel my resolve shifting, even as I struggled to hold on tightly. Hating that I felt such a desire to be soawful. “Great. You did what you came to do. Now, please,pleaseleave.”

“Oh, so he does have manners. That's good to know.” She smiled, the piercings through her bottom lip twinkling in the glow of a table lamp beside the door. Then, she turned and lifted her hand in a lackluster wave, wiggling her fingers. “See you around, Spider.”

Spider?

I narrowed my eyes at her back, then dropped my gaze to the webs tattooed on the backs of my hands. I couldn’t tell if the nickname was meant to be endearing or an insult, but it didn’t seem to matter. That nagging desperation for contact and companionship was back in an instant, flooding my chest and warming my frozen, forgotten heart.

“She’s kinda cute in a creepy way,”I could hear Luke saying, and I twisted my mouth, willing him to shut up as I hurried to stand in the open doorway, watching as she coollymade her way down the path. Strolling along as if the sun were shining and the birds were singing, completely oblivious to the ominous black clouds hanging overhead.

A black four-door sedan was parked not far from the cottage, one that hadn’t been there before, when I left through the front door to lay the lily on Annabel’s grave.

She couldn’t have left the rose.

Unless she had parked somewhere else … but …

No, that doesn’t make sense. She’d have had to walk too far. It wasn’t her.

“Hey,” I called after her, and when she stopped to look over her shoulder, I added, “You’re welcome.”

She flashed me that smile again. “Glad you were there to stop him.”

I pressed my lips together as I nodded curtly. “So am I.”

She continued to watch me as she walked backward, nearing the bottom of the hill and the gate. She would get into the car and drive away, and why did that make me feel so horribly …sad? I didn’t know her, nor did she know me—but why the hell was there a small, nearly insignificant part of my brain telling me to change that? She had entered my fucking house without permission! She had snooped through only God knew what before I caught her! A sane man wouldn’twantto know her. No, no, a sane man would call the fucking cops, maybe even insist on getting a restraining order. Yet there I was, wishing Luke were around to get her name and number because even as an almost-thirty-nine-year-old man with more than a little experience under my belt, I was no better at this shit than I had been at seventeen.

She turned out of the gate and headed to the driver’s side of the car.

Then, after opening the door, before climbing inside, she looked in my direction and called, “I’ll knock louder next time!”

I watched as she got in and drove away at the slow but required fifteen miles per hour, and one side of my mouth twitched until it lifted into a reluctant smile.

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