Page 35 of Bad Influence
I was right. It does brighten up the place.
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me you were leaving?” Killian asks.
“I did.” I turn back to him. “I left you a note.”
He thrusts hand through his hair in frustration. “Why the fuck didn’t you just come up and tell me yourself? I could have gone with you.”
“I went with Lilith,” I say.
“I don’t care! You should have told me you were leaving,” he says.
Placing my hands on my hips, I turn to face him fully. I know him enough to understand he doesn’t get upset easily. Getting a reaction out of him is incredibly hard most of the time. Unless it’s me, apparently. Because lately he’s been acting more moody than I do when I’m about to get my period.
“Killian, were you scared?” I ask quietly.
He scoffs. “Why would I be scared that you were wandering around in an unknown city and the next time I’d probably have seen you would be on the 5 o’clock news because some psycho decided to make a scarf out of your skin?”
I roll my lips between my teeth, trying hard to control my laughter at his ridiculous train of thought. Doesn’t he realize that, as a woman, I’m always aware of my surroundings?
“According to Lilith, I’m living with the serial killer,” I say.
“More proof that you have zero sense of security.”
That may be true. But I also stabbed his brother in the ass, so it’s not like I don’t know how to defend myself. Not that he needs that information. A girl’s got to have some secrets.
“Wait, is that what’s happening here? Are you grinding your victims and mixing them into your paint?” I ask. “Is that why your music is so loud?”
The look of horror on Killian’s face makes it hard for me to not laugh.
“Where do you come up with these horrific things?”
“True crime.”
“I’m starting to think I need to be more worried about my safety than yours,” he says.
Turning around, he walks to the fridge and grabs the half empty bottle of wine from last night. He’s actually not a big drinker from what I’ve noticed. Last night was the first time we had a drink with dinner.
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to do anything to you,” I reply.
He looks at me from under his lashes as he pours wine into the glasses. “That’s exactly what a murderer would say before luring their victim into a false sense of security.”
“Come on, you’ve known me since we were kids. Have I ever done anything to make you suspicious of me?”
I grab the veggies from the fridge, deliberately ignoring the glaring reminder of my wedding on the door. I barely notice it anymore. If it were up to me, I’d rip it into pieces and throw it in the trash.
I should tell Killian the wedding isn’t happening. But every time I open my mouth, the words don’t come out. I know he won’t care if the wedding is off. If anything, he’ll be happy for me. Still, something stops me every time.
“There was that time you locked Beckett in a room,” he replies.
I turn to face him, closing the fridge door and putting the vegetables by the sink.
“He deserved it. He was annoying me.”
“He annoys everyone.”
Without needing to be told, Killian starts washing the vegetables, setting them aside to dry. I’ve noticed he’s very handy. If I’m ever in the kitchen, even if it’s to make myself coffee or a snack, he immediately comes and takes over. He’s either very particular about his space or he just wants to help.
I’m not sure which.
