Page 120 of Unwrapping Deviance

Mira pouts. “But ... the Greek Islands...”

I laugh at her adorable sulk. “Will have you two enjoying them. Besides, it’ll be good for you to have something you enjoy doing together. I get to follow you around a bookstore for nine hours, holding your books.”

Her pout wrinkles up into a scowl. “I grab a basket.”

“Which you fill.”

“And you refuse to let me grab another one so ... where else do I put the rest?” She blinks at me like she doesn’t understand how her logic isn’t processing for me. “Anyway,” with a bratty tilt of her chin, she faces Christian. “I would love to go.”

Christian grins. “I guess this means I get to take you bathing suit shopping.”

Mira bursts out laughing.

She opens her mouth but her response is swallowed by the crashing bang of the front door flying open and the shattering of glass.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

MIRA

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Both men bolt to attention. Christian gets me to my feet as Daniel drops his forks with a noisy clatter inside the dish.

“Stay here,” Christian says to me, long legs already moving to the door, Daniel on his heels.

I consider listening. A normal person would, but if Daniel and Christian need my help, I can’t just hide in the kitchen, but I’m also not dumb enough to run out without a weapon, so I grab a knife from the block next to the sink and hurry out into the living room.

The front door hangs open, a rectangular frame against the inky black of the night. Jagged silhouettes shudder and weave violently under invisible hands. But the doorway is empty, save for Daniel poking his head out to check the front porch.

Christian stands just behind him, fingers bunched into fists in preparation.

“Looks like the wind shoved the door open. Must not have closed all the way.” Daniel steps back into the room and gives the door a hard shove, sealing it firmly before snapping the lock in place.

“We were pretty distracted,” Christian muses.

Daniel snorts as he pushes the curtains aside over the window to check the yard again. “Looks like it’s going to be a windy night.”

Christian moves to the broken picture frame lying in a heap of shredded glass just behind the door. His knees pop as hebends to gingerly scoop the pieces overtop of the torn photo half poking out.

“Should chuck these,” he mutters. “Bastard isn’t around anymore to bask in his own glory days.”

Daniel turns and spots me across the room. He blinks. His gaze drops from my face to the knife in my hand. “Baby?”

Christian glances over his shoulder. His eyebrow lifts. “Didn’t I tell you to stay in the kitchen?”

I frown at both of them. “Then what? Just wait for the attacker to find me?”

Christian opens his mouth, possibly to argue only to hiss and jerk his hand out of the shards he was still gathering.

“Shit!” he mutters, stuffing his finger between his lips.

My heart claps against my chest. Worry and panic have me hurrying over but Daniel catches me around the middle with both arms.

“You don’t have shoes.”

I’m ready to tell him I will be careful, but Christian unfurls from his crouch. “I’m okay, sweetheart. Barely a knick.”

He moves past me towards the kitchen, never slowing even as he brushes the fingers of his good hand across my cheek in passing.

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