Page 23 of Intent to Kill
His car was hidden behind a row of trees across the road, and when they reached the hood, she branched off to the passenger side—the wrong side, in his opinion—tugging at the locked door.
“Open the doors, Adam,” she sighed as she ran a frustrated hand over her face before death-glaring him.
“You can’t be serious.” He frowned, resting his hands on the hood of the car.
“What?” She flicked the words off her tongue.
“Get in the fucking driver’s seat.” He tossed the keys across to her and she caught them with a hesitant frown.
It took her longer to get into the car than it did him, but once inside she stroked the steering wheel like it was the first time she’d touched it. She obviously hadn’t been behind the wheel in a long time.
They had barely driven five minutes before Adam picked up the conversation, itching to get inside her head.
“So, Dorian Blake,” Adam began. “Is he packing? Seems to me like he’d have atinydick.”
“For fuck’s sake.” The car cruised cautiously through the back streets of the city, like any normal, law-abiding citizens, as Adam directed her toward his hotel along the beach.
“The dude gives off serious small dick energy, is all I’m saying.” He smiled at her. “You don’t really fuck this guy, do you?”
“We’re engaged, so what do you think.”
Ouch. Why did he ask? The idea of anyone else’s arms holding her made him want to tear down concrete walls with his bare hands, and he definitely had the fiery anger to do so.
Adam rolled his hair in hands, looking over at her like a nervous kid with a crush. Which, he supposed, he was.
“A guy like that? No way he could satisfy you.”
Her voice raised. “Oh really, what do you know?”
“I know you don’t love him.”
That shut both of them up. Adam paused to gauge her reaction. It could have gone either way. Why after all that had happened would she willingly climb into bed next to Dorian Blake?
There were only two options that he could possibly conceive. Either Blake had swept her off her feet and she was maddeningly in love with him, or, she had no choice.
She kept her stare toward the road, the clicking of the turn signal amplifying the silence.
Adam could guess exactly which one it was when she chose not to answer. “I know what love looks like on you. You’re not wearing it right now.”
After a few seconds of silence, she spoke up. “You’re my past, Adam. Dorian Blake is my future. I don’t think you know me well enough anymore to have any idea what I’m feeling.”
He turned to her with wide eyes. Sure, she shared a bed with Dorian Blake (for now), but she shared all her secrets with him. He knew her heart better than he knew his own.
But what if hewaswrong?
He flicked his tongue against the back of his teeth as they drove in silence. If she was right, if he really didn’t know her anymore, and if she really did think that Dorian Blake was her future, she wouldnotbe happy with what he was about to say.
* * *
Adam opened the door to his room at the Tropics Hotel. Dan, Carlos, Paul, and Mercedes all stepped inside, their eyes catching on the walls strewn with newspaper clippings and mad ramblings.
“It looks like a serial killer hideout in here, man. You might need psychiatric help,” said Dan.
“I can recommend someone good.” Carlos clapped Adam on the back.
“You weren’t kidding about the five-year revenge plan,” Paul said.
Adam shrugged, not bothered by the mess he had already created. Though he did have to admit, it didn’t make him look sane.
