Page 96 of Hunting Pretty

With some space between us, I could finally breathe.

I could think again.

Sort of.

He still looked devastatingly sexy as he leaned his elbows against the counter where I’d been standing and watched me as I put some space between us.

Despite him not touching me anymore, I still felt captured by his stare.

I wanted to ask him his name, beg him for more details of our childhood together.

God, I wanted so many things from him that I barely knew where to start.

But right now,thatwasn’t the most important thing.

I snatched my knife out of the sink and held out the point at him, trying to look as threatening as possible. I had scared Cormac. I could scare him. Right?

I demanded, “I want my adoption records back.”

He straightened and faced me head-on. “No.”

“Why not?” I jabbed the tip of my knife against his firm chest, not enough to pierce him, just enough to make him know I meant business. “What’s in my adoption records that you don’t want me finding out?”

He scowled.

In a flash, his hands lashed out. I don’t know how he fucking did it, but he disarmed me, my knife clattering harmlessly to the floor.

I sucked in a breath, blinking mutely, still trying to recover from what just happened.

He pushed me up against the wall, crowding me in again. “Leave it alone. Leave Liath alone. You can’t do anything for her.”

My heart almost stopped. So hedidhave something to do with Liath.

Oh God. He basically admitted he killed Liath.

“Y-you killed her?” Grief welled up in me.

I’d been too late. I couldn’t save her.

No, this wasn’t my fault. I didn’t kill her.

He did.

Fury overtook my senses and I slammed my fists against his chest. Not that it seemed to affect him at all.

“Why, you fucking asshole?” I screamed. “Why? What did she ever do to you?”

He grabbed my wrists, holding them firmly against hischest to stop me from hitting him. “You thinkIhad something to do with Liath’s disappearance?”

I choked on a sob, glaring at him through tears. “You’re saying you didn’t?”

He held my gaze, as if willing me to believe him. “That’s what I’m saying.”

I studied him, trying to look behind the brutal mask he usually wore. But it didn’t seem like he was wearing one right now.

He looked sincere. Sounded sincere.

Or was that my stupid heart wanting him to be innocent because itlikedhim?

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