Page 85 of Beautiful Killer

Miller spun toward my car then back and smiled.

A muscle in my jaw started jumping. “Drop the gun,” I said louder, the fear creeping in, coming through in my voice.

“That’s your car? She’s in there? The girl I cut?”

“Drop the gun,” I roared.

Miller backed up, until my car was between him and me, then he aimed and fired his gun into the driver’s side before I knew what was happening. The windows exploded, and he turned and started to sprint down the street.

I roared, aimed, and fired three shots.

He dropped to the ground, his gun clattering to the street beside him. I was already running toward my car, flinging the passenger side open, expecting the worst.

Nothing. Sunny wasn’t there. “Sunny!” Her name exploded from me.

That’s when I spotted her, curled up in the back seat, arms over her head.

I yanked the back door open and dragged her out, trying to search her for damage. She curled into me, wrapping around me tight. “Are you okay, Sunny? Talk to me, darlin’.”

She clung tighter.

I tried to lean back, to get a look at her, managing to slide my fingers under her chin and tilting her head back. “Are you hurt, Sunny?” I said again.

She shook her head and tucked her head under my chin and fucking clung to me, breathing heavily.

“Thank God,” I said into her hair. “I thought . . . shit.”

Neco came up beside us. “Is she okay?”

“Yeah, but I’m taking her to the hospital to get checked out.”

Sunny lifted her head from my neck, putting a little distance between us. “I’m . . . I’m okay, I promise. I don’t need a doctor . . .”

I tugged her back, needing her right there. “The baby . . .”

“The baby’s fine. I’m just shaken up.”

Despite what she said, I didn’t let her go while we dealt with the police. Ruby came and picked up Neco so I could use his car. It was late by the time I finally got Sunny home. She looked exhausted when I pulled up and shut off the engine. “Wait there,” I said and climbed out, walked around, opened her door, and lifted her out of the car.

“I can walk,” she said.

“I know. I’m still carrying you.” I rattled off the security code for her to enter when we reached the door, then pushed it open and carried her in, across the floor, and up to bed. I laid her down and went to pull the covers up.

“Hang on.” She started to climb back out.

“You need to rest,” I said.

“I need to pee first.”

I leaned down, about to pick her back up.

A small smile tilted up one side of her lips. “You’re not carrying me to the bathroom, Zeke.”

I didn’t want to let her do anything but rest, didn’t want her out of my damn sight. I reluctantly stood back and let her walk to the bathroom. She was in there a while, and when she came out she’d washed her face and her hair was up in that messy bun again. She was also in that cute nightie with the green hearts.

“Can I wear a pair of your socks?” she asked softly.

“Yeah.” Why was that so much of a gut punch? “Get into bed.” She did as I asked while I grabbed a pair and sat on the mattress beside her. We should probably talk about what happened tonight, but I didn’t know what else to say. She’d seen it with her own eyes, had watched me kill a man, or at least heard it, then listened to my recount when I spoke to the cops. We were both all talked out for the night, so instead, I lifted one of her feet into my lap and slid the sock on. Her breath come out in a rush. It was messed up after the night we’d just had, but knowing she was still affected by me, even just a little, felt better than it should. I took her other ankle and lifted it into my lap as well. Her skin was smooth, soft. She’d painted her toes purple at some point and they looked cute. I bunched up the other sock and dragged it over her foot, then looked up at her. “Better?”