Page 6 of Slaying for Santa
Sighing, I rake my hand through my hair knowing this won’t go down well with Rhonda, but since she’s just been carted to lockup for the night, and this ismyfucking house, not Rhonda’s, I guess we can get the tree that started all of this.
“Sure, Libs. We’ll go first thing in the morning and get it.”
Libi goes still, and for a moment, I think my little dark angel has stopped breathing, but then she bursts up from the floor, climbing over the couch like it’s Mount Everest, and throws herself into my arms.
“Thank you, Daddy! Thank you!”
I wrap my arms around my little girl, squeezing her tight as she clings to me like I’m her whole world, and my eyes meet Bell’s as she stands.
‘Thank you,’I mouth, and I expect a nod or something. But instead, Bell’s dark eyes remain locked on mine as she rounds the couch and saunters past me, her voice low.
“You can thank me later.”
Fuck… why does that sound like an invitation?
CHAPTER 3
BELL
I spendthe first couple of hours at Kit’s helping him and Libi clean up the mess Rhonda made. I didn’t want to ask any more about what happened with Libi around, but now that she’s finally sound asleep, I’m about to find out what in Satan’s fiery hell I walked into here.
Stepping into the lush kitchen with the same warm rustic vibe as the living room, I find Kit at the sink, washing a few dishes, this time wearing shorts and a tank like he’s about to hit the gym.
My eyes flick briefly to the muted TV on the wall with more headlines about The Seduction Slayer flashing across the screen.
They make it sound like a bloody vampire slayer or something. Like what’s wrong with the Siren Stalker, or the Goth Widow? Or even the Kiss of Death Killer?
I roll my eyes at myself for even caring about that shit, and drag my attention back to Kit, and the red belly black snake ink winding from under the strap of his tank to coil up the back of his neck.
Shit. I didn’t notice that earlier.
Hell’s bells, get your head out of the gutter, woman!
“I’ve come to collect my thank you.” I force myself to speak as I approach the black stone island bench between us.
Kit’s head whips over his shoulder like I scared him, some of the water sloshing over the sink to trickle to the floor.
“Fucking hell, Bell. I know you don’t have a fucking soul, but could you not walk around here like a fucking ghost? Make some damn noise when you enter a room.”
I hitch a brow. “Sure, Kitty. I can do that.”
He rolls his eyes and turns his attention back to the soapy water, reaching in and pulling the plug out before shaking the suds off his hands and drying them with a hand towel.
“Don’t you have staff for that?” I nod my head towards the sink as he turns, and he shrugs.
“Gave them the night off since Satan was going to be here. They don’t get paid enough to deal with her shit too.” He leans back against the sink, crossing his arms over his chest. “So, how exactly do you want me to thank you?”
The way his brow quirks has me chewing the inside of my mouth to stop the smile that wants to appear.
I’ve already smiled twice since arriving. That’s enough for one day.
“Tell me what the hell happened with Rhonda. Why was she even here?”
His auburn brow lowers, and he pushes off the bench. “Not really your business, Belladonna.”
“Of course. I should’ve known you were too much of a pussy to be honest with me.” I roll my eyes and spin on my heel, heading for the door.
I only make it a few steps before a firm hand grips my arm and spins me around to come face to face with the top of Kit’s heaving chest.
