“Doesn’t mean shit. Give me back my cig.”
“Not until you stop pretending you didn’t like it.”
God, I hate him already, and I barely know this fucker.
“I had no choice,” I grit.
He dangles the cigarette in front of my face, just out of reach, and it pisses me off. “Doesn’t mean you didn’t love every second.”
My eye begins to twitch. “Fine. I loved it. Now put it back in my mouth.”
He bites his lip. “If only you had said those words in her room, I would’ve put it in your mouth any time.”
He winks. Actually fucking winks at me.
“I’m not fucking—”
He shoves the cig into my mouth, probably to shut me up, but we both know I’m only interested in fuckingher. I don’t swing that way. I barely swing anyway, except toward the law … until she came along and made her entire existence my sole obsession.
Fuck.
“Finally,” I mouth, taking another drag of the cig.
“I’m glad you finally admitted it,” he says.
“Under pressure.”
“The pressure of losing a cigarette?” he scoffs.
“You don’t know how much I fucking need it right now with you here all up in my face,” I say, rolling my eyes.
He taps my chest. “You’re just saying that because you miss her.”
Like that’s supposed to mean anything. “And so fucking what?”
“You just can’t admit you’re as crazy as she is.” He shrugs. “That’s fine, we’ve all been there.”
“I’m not a fucking murderer.”
“No. You just put the wrong people in jail,” he says.
I raise my brow. “Preposterous.”
“Is it? Do you even know who she’s killing and why she wants them dead? They’re not innocent people. They all had it coming for them.”
I take another drag and narrow my eyes at him without saying another word. I’m not going to spill my entire investigation to a drunk, let alone a drunk who does anything and everything that woman tells him to.
But I am intrigued by how he knows the men she kills aren’t innocent.
Orion bends over to look me directly in the eyes. “So you do know more … tell me.”
“Fuck that. It’s an active investigation.”
He rubs his hands together. “Are you investigating me?”
“Yes,” I hiss.
“Hot.”
