Page 36 of Beautiful Killer

The muscle in his jaw did some jumping. “We’ll sort it out. But tonight, you need to come with me.”

Why would someone be hanging around my house. Had the guy that broke in come back? Oh God. “Zeke . . .”

He gave my wrist another squeeze. “Let’s go, Sunshine.”

There was no “should I or shouldn’t I” decision to make here. If there were someone hanging around my house, I didn’t want to be there. I slipped off my stool, and let him lead me from the restaurant. Was someone targeting me? Why? What had I ever done? I didn’t understand what any of this meant, but for tonight I was glad I had Zeke. Just knowing that someone had gone to my house tonight, for God only knew what purpose, sent terror through me with such force I was trembling by the time we reached Zeke’s truck. He didn’t miss this. I’d learned pretty quickly he never missed anything.

He crowded me, backing me against the side of his truck, towering over me, surrounding me. If he were anyone else, it would have been intimidating, domineering. With Zeke, okay, yes, it was kind of those things, but mainly I felt safe. Safer than I had in weeks.

“You’re shaking,” he said a frown lowering his brows.

“I’m scared,” I admitted.

He shook his head. “Don’t need to be, Sunny. I won’t let anything happen to you, understand me?”

I swallowed, trying to get some moisture going in my mouth again. Zeke was the most masculine, raw, male—because man seemed too soft a word for him—that I’d ever been around, and having him this close was affecting me. Which should be impossible right now, but my body had different ideas. “Thank you, for looking out for me,” I said. “You don’t need to do this, but I appreciate it.”

The hard, intense expression on his face softened, then he lifted a hand and tucked my hair behind my ear. His fingers slid across, over my cheekbone then lower, below the scar on my cheek. “Sunny . . .” He shook his head.

The gentle, intimacy of that touch floored me. “Yes,” I whispered.

“I promise we’ll get whoever it was that cut your beautiful face, and I’ll make him pay.”

“Cut your beautiful face.”Out of all the things he’d just said, the last thing I should be focusing on was that. Or the way Zeke saw me now. But those thoughts reared up without my say-so. And for the first time in my life I felt ashamed of the way I looked. My face had been beautiful. I knew this because I’d been told that a lot in my life. Now it wasn’t. I had an ugly red scar. That side of my face didn’t work like it used to. Yes, it was vain, but suddenly, I wanted to hide.

I dropped my head forward, letting my hair cover my face. “Can we go please?”

Zeke immediately picked up on the change in me. He stilled for several beats, then moved closer, until he was plastered against me.

“Talk to me,” he rasped.

“Can we just leave?” I tried one more time.

“Why are you hiding from me?”

He also asked a lot of questions. If Zeke didn’t understand something, he asked a million questions until he did. Something else I’d learned about him pretty quickly. He was a man of few words, but he was also stubborn and persistent.

“Can you just drop it?” I said through my hair.

“No.”

Awesome.

“Look at me,” he said.

Crap.I lifted my head.

“You’re not shutting me out, not this time. Now talk to me,” he said.

I didn’t know what he meant by that, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. So I let out a shaky breath, and spilled. “It’s just . . . I have this scar, and my smile . . . it’s lopsided.” My voice was again a whisper. I don’t know why, maybe saying what I was out loud made it more real. When I wasn’t looking in the mirror, I tried not to think about it—well, until someone looked at me and I saw the sympathy in their eyes, or worse, pity. “I know that sounds vain, and there are people a whole lot worse off than me, but . . .” I trailed off, not sure what else to say.

More jaw clenching. “I’m so fucking sorry, Sunny. It’s my fault . . .”

I shook my head quickly. “I don’t blame you. I blame the person who did this.” I pointed to my face. “But that’s not what this is about.”

“No?” More frowning.

“I know I look . . . that I’m not . . .”

His fingers slid under my chin, tilting my face up to him. “Your beautiful,” he said, reading my mind. “On the inside and the outside. That hasn’t changed. Nothing could change that.”

I stared up at him, not sure how to respond. I didn’t get a chance, because he leaned in and pressed his mouth to mine, kissing me gently, in a way he never had before. I shivered against him.

“Climb in the truck,” he said against my lips, his ragged breath brushing my skin. “Fuck, I want you. I know I shouldn’t ask for it, but I want you in my bed tonight, darlin’.”

Another shiver. I was so damn weak. “I want you, too.”

He curled his arm around me, moved me to the side and opened the door to his truck. “Get in.”

One more night.

Just one.