Page 106 of Knife For Hire

Countless faces flash behind my eyes.

Those words are all it takes to snap Kale out of his stupor.

He charges forward, his muscular hands find my hips and he forcefully yanks me off my feet, throws me onto the hood of his car.

He stares down at me, his eyes hooded in lust. “This is wrong.” He swallows thickly, ducking until his lips brush against mine. “Tell me to let you go.”

Warmth pools between my thighs. Since I met John—Kale—I knew I was balancing on a delicate tight rope. That he meant more to me than he should. That we had similar mindsets on our lives.

In life, there are some inevitabilities, and all at once, I realized…

Kale is one of mine.

Boiling Point

Kale

“No.” Cinnamon shakes her head, staring at me with wide eyes. Her breath rattles out of her chest as she appraises me.

Guilt sludges its way out of my lips. “The poison. That turns blood green. I made it. It’s my fault your mother died.”

There is genuine surprise, shock even, that flashes across Cinnamon’s face. Her eyes widening, her mouth opening.

And then she says the last thing I expect. “You saved my life. Thank you.”

A thousand pounds rolls off of my shoulders, collapses onto the ground below us.

My entire world twists and spins, and I recognize in this instance…

“Cinnamon, tell me to let you go,” I beg her.

The sun is at the top of the sky but I have parked us under the shade. Even still, patches of its rays break through the branches and paint Cinnamon’s skin.

In such a short time, my entire opinion of her has shifted.

She’s not a killer.