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Slowly, I gain control of my thoughts. Silence surrounds me. Opening my eyes, I come face to face with a pair of brown ones. Although dark circles make them look tired, her eyes turn upwards at the end giving her a feline-like look. Her irises aren’t as dark this close up, I can see the lighter hues of brown. Her eyes are beautiful.
I frown as that thought runs through my head.
“You good?” she asks.
“Yes.”
She steps back, looking in every direction but at me. She hugs her body, hunching her shoulders. I scan through my rolodex of memorized emotions. Embarrassment. This is peculiar. Why is she embarrassed?
“So, what’s next?” she asks, pulling my attention away from her odd behavior.
“We eat,” I turn toward the door and head out. Her soft footfalls follow behind me. I don’t grab her arm until we are on the other side of the door.
We head out of the club. I have only nine hours to finish my menus, and then I have to kill Summer.
chapter Six
Beast
Summer
Two train rides and a bus later, we’re in the Bronx at a diner.
Staring down at my French fries and chicken sandwich, my stomach turns over. My appetite is somewhere between Gregory’s loft and the politician at the sex club. It also doesn’t help that my body is craving something else.
However, it seems Gabriel does not have the same issues. One arm protectively wraps around his plate, his back is hunched over the table. He’s shoveling mashed potatoes in his mouth with his fork as if someone will come and snatch his food away.
As focused as you would think he is on his food, his eyes have not stopped scanning the restaurant. Every sound draws his gaze. Every time the bell over the door dings, his focus shifts.
“Do you ever take a break?”
He stops stuffing food into his mouth, his attention landing on me. One dark blonde brow raises in confusion.
“We’re in a diner in the Bronx, no one is going to attack you. Besides, I’m pretty sure you’re the most dangerous person in this room.”
I hate that I notice the minute smile that lifts his lips.
Gabriel leans up from his plate pushing it away. Using a napkin, he wipes his mouth before placing it back down on the table.
“No,” he says.
It takes me a moment to figure out what he’s replying to. When I do, I find it hard to believe. Clearly, he isn’t scanning the room for intruders while he’s getting his dick sucked.
“So even when you’re…” I make a circle with one hand and use the pointer finger of the other to imitate the deed. “You don’t stop being alert?”
He doesn’t speak at first, just stares at me. I grow uncomfortable for a minute waiting for him to answer. Maybe that was too personal. I doubt most people ask their potential murderer about their sex life.
After the longest most uncomfortable second passes, I realize he’s not going to answer my question. Rolling my eyes, I ask another one.
“What are you scanning for anyway? Threats? You think someone’s going to pull a knife out and stab you over your smothered porkchop?”
He narrows his gaze slightly. “Beside us, the man in the tie. He’s married, but the woman with him isn’t his wife.”
I look to my left to the dark-haired man with the goatee.
“How do you know that?” I ask, looking back at Gabriel.
His eyes close mid-way as if he’s determining if he should give away his secrets to me.
