Page 16 of Carved Obsession
I don’t. And I don’t think he’s going to kill me.
“Fine.” Like a sudden summer storm, his gaze darkens with cold fury.
My eyes widen. The seconds stretch as his elbow rises higher. The blade against my throat shifts and turns. Slight, sweeping pressure trails across my throat, and like the fucking cry of angels themselves, the front doorbell tinkles.
He stiffens as two people cheerfully talk among themselves, walking into the shop. His full lips straighten, nostrils flaring as his arms drop. He allows one second longer before he steps away and to the side, tucking the blade away inside his waistcoat.
Saved by the bell.
I’m shocked I had to besaved. I thought that keeping quiet about his nightly affairs would earn me some brownie points. That we had a fucking connection.
I’m fucking hurt!
He speaks no words as he steps out of the alcove’s shadows and back into the sunlight washing over the store. He takes one final look at me, then moves to leave.
I walk out as well, but I don’t follow him. Watching him leave feels like the beginning of a story, not the end. And considering he just tried to kill me, I’m going to make this story entertaining as hell.
He pulls the door open, stops, then turns just enough for his gaze to snag on me. “See you soon, Miss Brasa-Glass.”
I grin, embers of fury igniting in my soul at his nerve. “Goodbye...Mr. Pierce.”
Chapter 4
Carter
Mr. Pierce.
Two little words that hold much more meaning than they should. They echo long after the jewelry store door shuts behind me. Long after I walk away.
All this time, she’s known who I am. Months of her having the upper hand.
I was all too aware of my failure before, but this piece of knowledge hits my ego dead center.
I could have been in jail now.
Yet, I’m not. Why?
I don’t understand this woman. Her drive comes from something unfamiliar. I can’t make sense of her. She’s a complex ribbon I can’t find the ends of, and I’m fucking yearning to unravel her.
She’s had my freedom in her delicate hands all this fucking time.
It’s unsettling.
Dangerously riveting.
Her expression as I walked away nudged me further down this perilous path; she was seething. The fury shined brightly in her espresso-colored, round eyes. It first appeared when I took her up on her challenge, but it embedded deeper once I slightly cut the side of her delicate throat with my dagger. I was ready to slash it from ear to ear.
Fuck, I didn’t even want to do it.
I should have, damn it. I still should. I’m convinced she has no proof. She probably can’t send me to jail, but it’s the fucking principle of it all. And after all her taunting, daring me to kill her, I craved to make her bleed.
It hasn’t gone away. Something about the look in her eyes, lacking in fear but drowned in defiance, compels me to slice her open just so I can see how she ticks beyond those high cheekbones and perfectly bowed lips. What goes on in that reckless mind of hers?
I must squash this need. It’s irrational. Pointless.
Utterly ridiculous.
Scarlet Brasa-Glass must die.
