Page 20 of Devil’s Candy

I’ve been watching Angel closely, which is how I knew he tossed her out. He set her up with a job at the bar of one of his friends, but no one is protecting her like Angel was before.

And despite my best attempt not to take on her care, I don’t like the fact that she’s been so vulnerable.

Which is why I’ve been finding myself following her more and more often.

“How come you were at my place last night?” she asks as she picks at one of her nails.

I tell the truth…mostly. “I’ve been thinking about you.”

“How did you know where I live?”

I sigh. There is little point in pretending I’m a better man than I am. She’s already watched me kill two people. “I followed you home from the bar.”

All right. I’m still pretending. This was not a one-time deal. I regularly follow her. Some might use the word stalking. I know her every habit, her every haunt.

And some things have become apparent.

That night with me in Vegas was an anomaly. Candy doesn’t date. She doesn’t hook up. She doesn’t even hang out. And I want to know why…

“Oh,” she says as she stops picking her nail to twist her fingers together. “You followed me.”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “If you’re mad, I’m sorry.” I’m not really. “I’m not a normal kind of guy.”

That makes her lips turn up. “I am pathologically repulsed by normal.”

I smile in return, easing back into my seat. Now we’re getting somewhere.

“What I’m trying to decide is if I’ve finally found the guy who is going to be my undoing.”

“No.” It comes out harsh and grating. I’m not trying to frighten her. But I’ve killed exactly one woman in my life, and I am haunted by the memory. I could kill a thousand men and not feel a thing. But a woman…

She turns to me, swallowing down a lump, her gaze still unsure. “Where are we going?”

“To see Angel.”

She gasps, the color draining from her face. “Why?”

“Because we’ve got a few facts to clean up.”

“I don’t want to.” She shakes her head.

“Why not?”

“Because”—her clasped hands come up to her chin—“Angel’s been nothing but good to me and I⁠—”

“Cutting you loose was not him being good to you,” I growl, knowing the part I played in her removal from Angel’s care.

“I deserved to be let go. I let Vinnie in first and then…” Her gaze flicks to me.

Some people never want to take accountability. That is not Candy’s problem. If anything, she hyperfixates on her mistakes.

I let go of the shifter, placing my hand on her thigh. These are the ways in which Candy draws me deeper into her care.

I want to say to her, you’ll never make a mistake again, I’ll make sure of it.

But that’s not the kind of promise assassins make. We don’t do pretty endings. My only reason for existing all these years is to make sure my daughters had a soft landing.

I’m hoping they have found exactly that with the Smiths. But I remain skeptical.