Page 26 of The Devil We Know

“It’s a damn fucking shame, too, Kai. You’re in a position to do a lot of good in this world if you chose to.”

“Attempting to do good in the world is what gets us killed in our world.”

He’s not wrong. All too often, good intentions lead to pain, suffering, and death. All we can hope in those circumstances is that death comes swiftly, though in most cases, the person who thought they were going to do some good has to be an example to anyone else who ever thought they wanted to do the same.

I go to say something further, but Kai takes out his phone and says, “If you want that shower, you better make it quick.”

I groan, already stripping down as I head back to the bathroom, thoroughly annoyed that I now have time for the most basic military shower instead of the thorough lathering I more than need.

11

A Case of the Wrongs

Jessica

A noise draws myattention away from the door in front of me, and I glance to my right to see a woman leaving another room.

I quickly face forward, not wanting to draw attention to myself by gawking, and when I step into the doorway further, hoping to avoid attention, the door in front of me suddenly pops open, and I fall forward.

I yelp, my hands coming up to stop my forward momentum, and I run right into a body.

I attempt to step backward as solid arms wrap around me, preventing me from doing so.

My eyes move to the face, and I blink a few times as I realize this is not Matt.

Fuck my life.

“You’re not Matt.”

The words fall out of my mouth before I can get control of my response. I immediately press my lips together, cursing myself for saying something so stupid. I watch as dark eyes harden, dark eyebrows lifting as he says, “Were you expecting a different Matt?”

I laugh. It’s brittle and a little crazy, the perfect kind of crazy laugh that was taught to me by Antoinette, and his eyebrows raise even higher. He cocks his head at me as he says, “What could possibly be funny right now?”

I shrug, an exceedingly awkward endeavor given he’s still embracing me, and every instinct in me tells me to shake him off, run screaming, and never look back. I manage to squash it down, forcing myself to be just one step shy of stone, and laugh again.

His brows lower, and he narrows his eyes at me, his hands gripping my biceps as he pushes me away from him and gives me a little shake. “Fucking stop that.”

My breath hitches as my laughter immediately ceases, and I hold my breath, doing my best not to choke on the mania brewing inside me.

Perhaps I’m not cut out for this. Well, too fucking late, but I can’t help but think this as he stares down at me like I’m some disease that needs to be eradicated.

He steps back from me fully, his hands crossing over his chest as he looks me up and down and asks, “Are you going to fucking tell me who you are or not?”

I can’t move. I can’t breathe. The pressure in my chest is excruciating as I clear my throat a few times, and he continues to stare at me like I’m completely insane. Which I fucking am. I inhale deeply through my nose, shaking my head as I attempt to sort my jumbled thoughts.

He rolls his eyes, muttering to himself under his breath, and he reaches down and grips the bottom of his shirt, yanking it over his head as he says, “Well, if you’re not going to fucking talk, we may as well get it over with, then.”

I’m pretty sure my eyes are bugging right out of my head at his words.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He grabs for my arm, yanking me over to a table where he pushes me against it face-first, his hand on my back, pushing my upper body down flat on it.

I expel a breath forcefully and then choke out, “Wait! What the fuck are you doing?”

The metal from his belt buckle jingles, and he replies, “Should be pretty fucking obvious.”

I attempt to stand, but he pushes me back down, his hands on my hips, yanking my pants. I push back against him, but his hand keeps me anchored in place.

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