Page 36 of Callous Shot

“Night, Tils.” I leaned down to hug her. Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, I whispered, “Your hair looks pretty. Make sure your dad takes some photos, okay?”

She nodded, releasing her tight grip on me. “Dad, bring my tablet upstairs.”

“Say please.”

“Pleeease.”

“That’s better.” Mike grabbed the tablet from the sofa. “Race you upstairs.”

Tilly immediately raced out of the lounge, and Mike followed behind at a slower pace, shooting me a warning look as he did so.

Then I was left alone with my rival.

“What was that face for?” The words spilled from me unchecked.

Daniel lifted his head. “What face?”

“When Tilly thanked you. You looked…unhappy.”

“I wasn’t unhappy.”

It took me a few steps to cross the room to the sofa. I dropped down next to him. “Liar.”

His nostrils flared. “I’m not fucking lying. It wasn’t that. It was— Oh, fuck you. I don’t owe you an explanation. I don’t owe you anything. You pulled a knife on me, then you blocked me.”

Shit, there was actual hurt in his tone. I blew out a heavy breath. “Hoyton.”

“Don’t. This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have come here.” He began to rise, and I panicked, knowing this could be the only chance for Mike and me to get some answers. Grabbing his wrist, I yanked him back down again, keeping a tight hold in case he decided to make a run for it.

“Hoyton.”

“Let. Fucking. Go of me.”

“Answer the question.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you more.” He was so infuriating.

“Fine. It was the thing she said about me not being a baddie and saying she liked me.”

“What?” I stared at him. He shook his head stubbornly, tugging his lip between his teeth. Reaching out with my free hand, I curled it around his throat in warning. His skin was so warm beneath my palm, his Adam’s apple moving as he swallowed roughly. I tightened my grip. “Explain. Now.”

His eyes flashed with fire. “Let go. Or I’ll⁠—”

When I dipped my head to his ear, I felt him shiver against me, and the throb of his pulse became faster, more insistent. “You wouldn’t dare to try anything. Not with Sergeant Bellingham right upstairs. Explain. Now.”

“Every second you threaten me or dare to lay your hands on me, the worse you’ll make life for future you,” he gritted out. “So fuck you. And I thought you were supposed to be clever. Isn’t it obvious? She said I wasn’t a baddie. I am. And she shouldn’t like me, because I’m bad fucking news. You, of all people, should know that.”

There was a dull ache in my chest. “I do know that.” The second the words came out, I regretted saying them.

He inhaled sharply, ripping himself away from me and springing to his feet. “Yeah, so I shouldn’t be here. Tell your uncle— Shit, I don’t know. Sorry for trespassing or whatever.” Turning on his heel, he strode towards the door.

He was almost out when I reached him, wrapping my arms around him from behind and trapping his own arms at his sides. Knowing I wouldn’t be able to keep the hold for long, I wasted no time in placing my mouth at his ear. “Stay.”

He stilled at my command. “Why?”

“Hmm…” My lips skimmed over his skin, and we both jumped at the unexpected contact. Drawing back slightly, I rasped, “Because for one, my uncle won’t be happy if he comes down and finds out that I let you leave. And let’s not forget the fact that you came looking for me for a reason. I still haven’t heard that reason.”