Page 46 of Cut Deeper

When she took a second bite, I realised it wasn’t me she was appreciating—it was my goods.

“I thought you were working today?”

There was no way forward but brutal honesty.

“I’ve been watching you work in your studio for two days,” I said, watching her cup pause midway to her mouth.“I missed you.”

The cup rose to her lips. I watched her swallow before she spoke.

“Watching me?” she asked, one eyebrow arched.

She wasn’t angry. No weapons on the countertops or table. I sat across from her and set my coffee down.

“Yes.”

“Huh,” she said to herself, taking another bite of the croissant. Flaky pastry left crumbs on her lower lip; her tongue swept out and licked them clean.“You’ve got control issues, Ethan.”

I reached for the paper bag, and she smacked my hand.

Her dainty hand left quite the sting.

“You forfeit your pastry for spying on me, but you can make some toast if you want,” she smirked.

My lips curled—the first smile since she’d left. I sipped my coffee, listening as she told me about her progress. The powerful dehydrator. Crushed testicles, dusted with fine glitter.

I zoned out at some point, breathing easier just knowing we could survive together.

Chapter 25

Anne

“How do you expect me not to kill anyone tonight?” he muttered for the third time that evening.

I’d never realised how emotionally fragile men truly were until Ethan. Sure, he was a hardened serial killer with zero remorse. Yet he couldn’t cope with my blood-red dress for my exhibition.

“Just dribble a little piss on me—I heard that can be a sensory deterrent,” I said, flipping the sun visor down to check my makeup.

His head snapped toward me. The car swerved, horns blared, and I reached for my lip gloss. I set my purse back on my lap and touched up my lips, listening to his long, deep, meditative breaths.

“You do realise that I am perfectly capable of killing anyone who oversteps the mark,” I said, screwing the lid back on the gloss.

“I suppose,” he grumbled.

I placed my hand over his. He mumbled something under his breath.

“This is my first date,” I said casually, squeezing his hand.

His brow smoothed, and when he glanced over, his eyes were deep and warm. I ignored the fluttering sensation in my belly and patted his hand.

“I’ll make sure that it’s an excellent night,” he said, straightening his back and tilting his head up.

“Such a gentleman.”

“We both know that’s a lie,” he chuckled.

I leaned on the headrest.

It was just as well because I sure as fuck was no lady.