Page 7 of King of Shadows

I stare at him. “That is incredibly vague.”

“The less you know, the better.”

There it is again. That warning. Everything about this man reads danger. The gun. The men hunting him. The way he speaks like he’s used to giving orders and having people obey them.

And yet, somehow, the stupidest part of me keeps being pulled toward him. I don’t understand it.

I shouldn’t be curious about him. I shouldn’t notice the way his voice drops when he speaks. I shouldn’t be wondering what kind of life would make someone so comfortable with pain.

But I am. And that realization makes me want him out of my apartment even faster. I finish the final stitch and cut the thread.

“There.”

I clean the area one last time and cover it with fresh gauze.

“You’ll need to keep that clean. And you should get a stronger painkiller.”

He nods.

“You also need to rest.”

“Yeah.”

I give him the mild painkiller I have in my medicine cabinet and hold it out to him.

“This should help for now.”

“Yeah.” He swallows them dry. “Thank you. You saved my life.”

Then, before I can tell him he’s welcome to leave, he adds, “I know you want me gone. I still have to wait.”

I give him a look. “Wait for what now?”

“Trust me.” My brows draw together. “Those men are still hovering around the building. I’m not staying because I’m afraid they’ll catch me.” His expression hardens. “I’m staying because of you.”

“Me?”

“If they see me leaving your apartment, you’ll be in danger. You lied to them. If they realize that, they’ll know you helped me. They won’t care that you had no choice.”

A sigh slips from my lips. Of course this isn’t over yet. “Fine.”

I gather the supplies and put everything back where it belongs before walking to the kitchen.

My stomach growls as I place the container containing my dinner into the oven, while trying to pretend this is a completely normal evening.

Once it’s warm, I dish it onto a plate and glance over at him.

“I didn’t think I was going to have company, so I only ordered enough for myself. But you’re welcome to join me.”

That familiar smirk appears again. “Enjoy.”

I sigh and carry my plate into the living room. My apartment isn’t big. It’s a shoebox, as I like to call it.

The living room has two couches facing the television. A three-seater and a smaller two-seater. The three-seater is obviously the better choice for a man his size. So I sit on the two-seater and turn on the little TV. Kazimir walks into the living room, and instead of sitting on the larger couch, he comes to sit beside me.

The cushion dips under his weight. His arm almost brushes mine, and I can feel the heat coming off his bare skin, close enough that it’s making it hard for me to concentrate.

I try my best to focus on the television as it flickers through a few channels before I finally stop on a rerun of some reality TV show.