Page 50 of Look at Her and Die

What the fuck was she thinking running this late at night on a dead-end road looking like that?

Didn’t she know that she was sexy as fuck?

Didn’t she know that her ass and thighs could start wars?

Didn’t she know that I wanted her worse than I wanted my next breath?

She had to know what she did to me.

It would be utterly impossible not to see the way that I was affected by her nearness.

And suddenly, I just snapped.

I ran at her, caught her around the shoulders, and came to a stop in the middle of the road.

Our sweaty bodies slid against each other’s when I pressed my lips up to her ear and said, “You’re so fucking stupid sometimes.”

Did this woman not realize how fucking shitty this world was? How awful some men—and even women—were? Did she think she was invincible?

She shuddered. “Posy, let me go.”

I probably should let her go.

But I couldn’t.

Literally, my hands wouldn’t let go.

“No,” I growled. “Because how stupid can you be to be out here after you just literally wounded a teenage boy’s ego? Do you think that he’s just going to forget the humiliation? You broke the kid’s hand and arm.”

That’d been the literal highlight of my day, watching her work.

Despite the anger that had raced through my blood at her obvious inability to see reason, I’d thoroughly enjoyed watching as she took that bat to that motherfucker.

The kid had to be every bit of six foot four or five and had muscles stacked on top of muscles.

Too bad for the kid, and I truly say the term ‘kid’ loosely because there was no way that you would mistake him for a kid in a dark alley, he hadn’t had the skill or the know-how to back up his muscles.

The kid had taken a bat to the arm, and even from the distance that I’d been standing, I’d heard the snap of the bone breaking.

The tink of the bat bouncing off something hard had been another highlight.

But the best part of the night had been when that kid had made a fist with his good hand and aimed it at her.

She’d swung on his fist like a baseball coming toward her, making solid contact.

I’d watched as the kid’s hand immediately unfisted and his arm went swinging with the momentum of her swing.

The solid thunk of his hand making contact with the bat, paired with the tink, would be forever embedded into my memories.

Oh, and I’d have to get Apollo to tap into the neighbor’s security camera, because a thing like that needed to be memorialized and relived for years to come.

Searcy stiffened. “Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.”

I was breathing hard, but at this point I couldn’t figure out if it was her nearness, the way she felt against my body, or the fatigue from running so far.

Whatever the reason, we were both panting, and my body was starting to react to her nearness.

Hell, who was I kidding? My body had reacted the moment that I had her in sight, no nearness necessary.

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