Page 222 of Bitter’s Sweet

Yesterday she walked toward me with food after I betrayed her because some part of her still believed I could fix what I broke.

This morning I taught her better.

Razor shakes her once. “You embarrassed me.”

Sweet lifts her chin. “I'm starting to think that's pretty easy.”

Gravel shifts beneath my boot.

Too loud.

Razor's head snaps toward the trees.

Shit.

His arm goes around Sweet's chest and jerks her back against him. One hand climbs toward her throat.

I step into the open with my gun aimed at his face.

“Take your hand off her.”

Sweet's eyes find mine.

Relief hits first, clear and sharp.

Then recognition.

Then hurt.

That second one nearly puts me on my knees.

Razor smiles. “Bitter Adams.”

“Hand. Off.”

His fingers tighten just enough to catch Sweet's breath.

I stop.

“Look at that.” Razor laughs. “Big bad Grave Prowler finally found something he can't punch without thinking.”

“Keep talking and we'll test it.”

Sweet keeps looking at me.

Reading.

She always fucking reads me.

The difference is now she does not believe what she sees because I made sure she wouldn't.

Razor notices.

Of course he does.

“Oh, that's painful.”

My trigger finger stays steady.