Page 53 of Queen Of WildCards

"Eyesforward,"Imuttered gruffly, nodding to the target. "Aimhigher.Leanagainst me, and don't flinch unlessIdo.Matchyour breathing to me, and pull the trigger when you breathe out."

Thistime,Ilaid my hands on her waist, holding her in place, trying desperately to remind myself to be professional.Hell, it wasn't likeIhad any interest in taking her to bed with me.Theaversion to touch that had plagued me sinceIwas a street urchin wouldn't let her get that close.ButIcould ignore it for now, ignore the faint buzzing beneath my skin asItouched her tiny waist, my hands spanning around it like she was nothing but a wisp of air.

Shetook my orders and steadied herself, relaxing against me like a bar of melting chocolate, her arms steady and raised perfectly in front of her.Witha slow breath in, she took aim, and on the release of that breath, she squeezed the trigger, putting a round neatly through the target's chest.

Fora split second, neither of us moved.Andthen she was turning in my arms and squealing like she'd won the lottery, the gun abandoned on the shelf as she threw her arms around my neck and smiled.

"Idid it!Didyouseethat shot?Ohmy god,Ihit the target, right in the chest!BlackJack—"

Myeyes flicked to her lips, parted as she realized she was rubbing against me like a fucking cat in heat.Istood stock-still, holding onto my self-control, as well as the urge to panic, hoping neither burst through at the present time.

"Goodshot,"Iwhispered, locked up from head to foot, paralyzed by her embrace.

Sheread the room wrong and leaned in to kiss me, her lips brushing against mine softer than a feather for no longer than a second, but it still rocked my world, a heady rush filling me as panic fought against her warmth.

Unfortunately, panic won out, andIdropped my hands and jerked away from her, the air in the room suddenly too heavy, too stifling, too hot.Igasped, fighting the urge to vomit as the panic finally forced me to my knees.

Ofcourse, she couldn't just leave well enough alone.Herknees hit the concrete in front of me as she lowered herself to my level, her hand extended in front of her, hesitating feet away from me as if she were afraidI'dbreak if she touched me.Inall fairness,Ijust might.

"BlackJack?"

"Getout of here,"Igrowled. "Goback toJoker, where you belong."

Sherecoiled as ifI'dslapped her, butIdidn't have time to focus on that.Thesooner she left me to my own solitude, the soonerIcould get a grip on myself and act like a human being again.

Slipon the cool mask of indifference.

She'dseen me vulnerable, somethingInever showed anyone else, andIcouldn't have her think she had the upper hand on me, not with two guns sitting just feet from us.

Nevermind the fact that she hadn't so much as moved to grab one since she set hers down.

"Go!"Ibarked out, standing again, towering over her with the height advantageIheld, trying my damndest not to shake whileIworked at intimidating her.

Whetheror not it worked,Igot my desired effect, and she turned on a heel and trotted back the way she'd come, her bare feet slapping noisily against the concrete steps until the door shut, silencing the sound.

Ibreathed a sigh of relief and leaned over against the wall, bile rising up my throat and splattering the floor at my feet as the panic wove through me, wave after wave of weakness showing meIwasn't good enough, would never be good enough.

Howfucked up was it that even a touchIwanted, a touch as innocent as the one she'd instigated in her excitement, still had the ability to bring me to my knees, twist my gut, and remind me of all the times grown men had tried to put their lecherous hands on my body as a child on the streets?

Ididn't want to taint her with that.

Thatwas my personal hell, and nobody should have to suffer that weight but me.

Icouldn't get that close to her again.MalloryStantonwas dangerous to my well-being and my mental health.

Andyet some sick part of me wanted more.

CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR

MALLORY

Ileft that basement and didn't look back, rushing back toJoker'sroom and the safety it represented without a second thought.Islept on the floor next to his bed, curled in a ball beneath a flannelIfound draped over his nearby doorknob.Icouldn't bring myself to crawl into the bed, even thoughIdidn't doubt he'd be asleep and in no shape to accost me when he woke.

Iwas more right thanIcared to admit, pleased to see him stumble from the bed and flail around his room in a state of haphazard disarray as he sought the magical remedy to his hangover.

Iwoke when he tripped over me on his way to rifle through the nearby dresser.

"Fuck!"Iyelped, flinching away from his body as he landed atop me, arms and legs akimbo, eyes squinted against the light filtering through the window.

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