Page 28 of Beautiful Killer

“You know Sunny?” Lulu said to Zeke, interrupting our bizarre and extremely awkward reunion.

“Shit,” Hunter, muttered. “I’m guessing Zeke was the person you thought was paying you a midnight visit?”

Zeke

When Hunter said one of Lulu’s friends had some trouble and needed our help, the last person I expected to see when I walked into his office was Sunny. An office I was currently striding across.

What I’d just heard? Jesus Christ. My motherfucking trigger finger was itching and I didn’t even have a goddamn target yet. I crowded her, unable to stop myself, sliding my fingers under her chin and tilted her head back, taking in the damage to her face. She blinked those big violet eyes up and me and another growl escaped before I could stop it. There was a fading bruise on her left cheek and a white bandage on her right. I slid my thumb just below it.

“He hit you?” My voice sounded like someone else’s, so damn deep, wrecked.

She nodded.

“What’s under the bandage, Sunshine?”

“Stitches,” she whispered, thick, long lashes blinking rapidly.

I instantly noticed that side of her face was less mobile. My gut twisted into a knot. “How?”

“He had a knife,” she said.

Hearing those words, it felt like someone had shoved their fist into my gut and tore out something vital. Some fucker had broken into her house, had touched her beautiful face, had cut her. I wanted to kill them. Slowly. A bullet would be too kind. I glanced up at Hunter and Van, ignoring the looks on their faces while they watched me and Sunny, and filled them in. “Get Jude to call in any markers he’s owed at the station. I want any info we can get.”

I looked back down at her face and sucked in a sharp breath. Jesus. She’d thought it was me. She thought whoever had broken in was me. She’d held off on making the call. I’d let myself into her place that night, and because of that, she’d been hurt. “I’m sorry,” I said. Useless fucking words, pointless fucking words. Too little, too late. But I didn’t know what else to say.

I heard people moving around us, then the office was empty, the door closing behind Van. I appreciated them giving us space, but being alone with her right now wasn’t a great idea.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” she said soft, husky.

“You thought it was me.”

Her cheeks got darker. “So you work here?” she said instead of answering me.

I nodded.

She offered a small smile. “That explains it.”

“What?”

“That edge you have, your . . . intensity.”

The smile was crooked. Just as beautiful as before, but seeing it sent rage through me. She was lucky to be alive. Then another thought fired through my mind that sent dread through me so fast my fucking knees felt weak. “He hit you, he cut you . . . did he do anything else, darlin’?”

Her eyes widened when she worked out what I was asking.

“No, he . . . he said if he had more time . . .” Her throat worked. “He didn’t touch me like that, though. He hurt me, then he got me to open my safe, then he left. He wasn’t working alone, at least I don’t think he was, I’m pretty sure someone was outside, I heard a car horn and then he left quickly.”

Thank fuck.

Her fingers curled around my wrist, sending zaps of awareness through me. I was still holding her chin, one hundred percent focused on her. She lowered my hand and I missed the feel of her skin instantly.

“I promise you, I didn’t know you worked here,” she said.

“I know.”

She shook her head, those gorgeous blond waves moving around her shoulders. “I’m not some stalker, following you around.”

Jesus.“I know.”