Page 49 of The Shadows We Keep

Stubbing out the ignore button, the noise stops and the room quiets. I take in a deep breath. The ringing starts up again. I hold down the power button and slam it to the counter. Maybe that will get my point across.

I’m not shaken up over what just happened. I’m fucking livid. Attacked and evicted in five-minutes flat; a new world record.

I blow out a frustrated sigh and throw myself down on my bed, pounding my fists against the mattress, simultaneously screaming every curse that comes to mind.

“Why is there a knife in your front door?” The voice jolts me from my temper tantrum as I fly to a standing position.

“What the hell, Harkin!”

“Nu-uh.” He dismisses my question, stalking toward where I’m standing, chest heaving from his mysterious appearance. His fingers grip my chin, moving it to the side.

“He did this to you?” he growls, his fingers gripping tighter.

I’d forgotten about the slap, but I’m sure my pale skin showcases the assault nicely. His eyes drop to my neck, growing darker with fury.

Too bad for him.

Because I’ve had just about enough manhandling for today. I shove his hand away and crawl back into bed.

Lying back against the pillows, I throw my arm over my eyes, blocking out the bright light and any chance of taking in his trembling form hovering over me.

“Are you just going to continue ignoring me?” The mattress dips and my body rolls slightly toward the additional weight.

I still don’t answer.

“Why are you here?” I huff out from under my shield. “No, wait, how are you here?”

I know for a fact I double locked my front door.

“Your light was on; I saw that asshole storming out of your building and you sent me to voicemail twice.”

“And?” I wait for him to come clean on the second part of my questioning.

He doesn’t answer. Time passes slowly before he says, “I have a key.” Like it’s no big deal.

I throw myself upward and almost collide with his shoulder. “You what?”

His gaze is piercing, ignoring my exuberant outburst. “It doesn’t matter. Now tell me why there’s a knife embedded in your front door, or I swear to God Keira, I’m going to fucking lose it.”

My eyes roll of their own accord, knowing I’m not getting an accurate account of why he has a key to my place.

“Don’t worry about it,” I huff.

His hands shoot out, gripping my waist before hauling me into his lap. I’ve never wished for more weight and a bigger frame, more than I am today. Maybe then it wouldn’t be so easy for these abrasive men to get their way.

I try my best to shove away and onto my feet, but his grip is lethal, and I don’t move an inch from where he’s holding me to him.

“That’s the thing, sweetness, I am worrying about it. So, why don’t you tell me before I make you?”

I bristle at his crassness, my mind warring with my body’s wanton need to push him until he makes good on his promise. I shake away the dirty images filtering through my mind.

“If I tell you, it won’t change what happened, so why does it matter?” I deflate against him, relaxing into his warmth that settles my hyperawareness from earlier.

His fingers brush faintly across my chin before he pushes a lock of hair behind my ear. “It matters to me.” His tone is stern, quiet, direct.

I sigh, knowing once again I’m going to give in to his request. This man has a magical ability to convince me to do exactly as he asks, my body, mind, and soul useless against his requests.

“Marco, was here.”

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