Page 35 of Beautiful Killer

“Yeah.” I hated even admitting that to myself, let alone someone else.

He cleared his throat. “She’s fine.”

I stilled. “Yeah, and you know that how?”

“I’m looking at her,” he said.

I felt a growl crawling up my damn throat. Were they on a date or some shit? Because Cage had made it pretty fucking obvious he wanted to get in there.

“Zeke, brother, it’s not what you think. I was already at Alfonso’s when she walked in. There’s nothing going on.”

“Alfonso’s?”

Cage sighed. “See you soon?”

I disconnected. I liked Cage, he was a good guy, but he wasn’t touching Sunny, no fucking way. I didn’t allow myself to think about what I was doing, what it meant, what I’d say when I saw her. I just knew I had to get to her.

Sunny

Cage had been acting differently since he’d finished his phone call and came back to the bar. I sipped my wine and glanced at him over the rim of my glass. I always had a wine while I waited for my takeout orders at Alfonso’s. They made the most divine Chicken Parmesan here and I’d been craving it for the last week. I’d also realized where I saw Cage’s business name when I’d walked in and saw him here. His building was only a block from my shop. I was surprised I hadn’t seen him in here before, since I came in fairly regularly. He’d been with friends, but came to keep me company while I waited for my food.

“Is everything okay?” I asked him.

He grinned. “Yep.”

The man had a great smile.

His eyes slid to the door and he straightened. “Well, it was cool talking to you, Sunny, but my cue to leave just got here. Maybe we’ll bump into each other again sometime.” Then he winked and walked away.

I frowned after him then glanced at the door . . .

Zeke was standing there, eyes burning into me.

I shivered.

He started toward me.

My heart started to race.

He stopped in front of me and my breath, that I’d been holding, shook past my lips, his name with it. “Zeke?”

“Let’s go,” he said.

Um . . . what the heck was going on?“My food . . . It’s not . . .”

He reached out, grabbed something from in front of me. My dinner. I hadn’t even noticed it’d been put there because every part of me had locked onto Zeke and stayed there as soon as I saw him.

“Let’s go,” he said again, this time reaching out and curling his fingers around my wrist.

My belly dipped. “What? Where?”

“My place.”

The way he was looking at me, the stiffness of his shoulders—something wasn’t right. I mean, I hadn’t seen him in days and now he was standing in front of me demanding I go with him . . . to his place. “What’s going on, Zeke?”

His fingers flexed, then I felt his thumb swipe across the inside of my wrist. “I stopped by your house tonight. Someone was hanging around. He got away, but I broke in, wanted to make sure you were okay. Lock needs fixing and I want you safe.”

I tensed, my pulse racing now for a different reason. “What do you mean, someone was hanging around my house?”