Page 73 of Moments of Madness (The Hunters)

“You know who I am. Who my family is and what we do,” he says.

“Yes, you know I do.”

He stares out at the house—the house I grew up in—and sees the white shutters on the windows, the brown brick, and the wraparound porch. It’s an average-looking home. There’s nothing too fancy about it, but it’s somewhere I feel extremely comfortable. I can see him staring again, going quiet, probably thinking of what to say next.

Him and me both.

I was planning to tell him when I got home and worked out my plan of attack. You can’t just jump up and say to someone you slept with a few times, “Oh, and by the way, I’m pregnant with your baby, and I’m keeping it.” I suppose some people can, but my situation is somewhat different. The man I’m seeing is an assassin, a trained killer, not that I think for a second he would kill me, but the situation is definitely different.

“I didn’t have this kind of life,” he says, nodding to the house.

My parents in the living room, watching television, waiting for me to come back inside. They’ll want to know more about Kyson to see if he’s different from Tony.

He is…

In so many ways.

“Is this the life you want?” Kyson asks, and I see the worry in his eyes as the words leave his mouth. I get it. He’s worried that he won’t be able to give me this life.

“I like where my life is heading. I like my new place, your car that I get to drive, and I like having sex with you.” I smile at him. “Can we not just like the now?”

His eyes drop to my stomach. “It’s not the now I’m worried about.” Kyson gets out of the car and walks around to my side. I sit there, confused, before he reaches my door and opens it. “Introduce me to your parents.”

“What about your parents?” I ask.

“Dead. I couldn’t care less. It’s yours I’m concerned about.” I take his offered hand and step out with his help.

“I’ll give you three months to live by yourself before you are mine,” he states.

“My lease is for six months,” I reply.

“We will shorten it.” He shuts the door, not letting go of my hand as we walk to the house. I almost trip on the driveway, and he catches me. I look up at him and start laughing, and his eyes narrow like I’m a crazy person, and I lift my hand over my mouth.

“How times have changed. That one time you let me fall on my face.”

“You annoyed me,” he says like it was obvious.

“Yeah, and you’d just killed someone,” I whisper.

“Kalilah.” We both turn at the sound of my mother’s voice at the door—thankfully out of earshot—with my father standing behind her with his arms crossed over his chest, trying to be intimidating.

I wonder if Kyson is ever intimidated. I doubt it.

I approach with Kyson’s hand still in mine, and he gives it a little squeeze as we near them.

“This is Kyson,” I say and smile.

“Son.” My father nods his head and offers his hand.

Kyson takes and shakes it.

“It’s good to meet you. Kalilah has spoken of you both fondly,” Kyson says, and my heart warms at his words.

“She’s barely mentioned you. What do you do for work?” I tense at my father’s terse words, but Kyson simply squeezes my hand.

“I’m a contractor. I run my own business.”

My father nods in approval. “And your family? Your parents?”

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