Page 13 of Drowning in Darkness

“And not your sister,” Camryn says, showing her unusual ability to see beneath what I’m saying and, more importantly, not saying.

“I don’t like this.”

“You don’t have to. It’s our job to keep her safe.”

“What do you want from me?”

“Get closer to him. However you can manage it.”

“You just raided a syndicate event. Everyone is going to give me a wide berth for weeks, if not months. You know the deal.”

She hands Agent Thompson his phone back. “That would be true for all except this man, who believes himself untouchable. He’ll get off socializing with you, knowing you got away with it again. It will feed his belief that he’s untouchable, and that will make him sloppy.”

All true, apart from the last part. Christopher Burnside doesn’t get sloppy; he gets focused. And now the woman who haunts my dreams is his new obsession. Tough shit, I’ve already claimed her. Not in the traditional way, but one that means she’s protected from afar. I’ll become the one with a blade in the shadows, willing to spill his blood at her door before she ever knows how close she’s come to disappearing into his world.

I’ve spent my life surrounded by monsters. The difference between Christopher and me is that when he looks at Stephanie King, he sees a target.

When I look at her, I see something worth killing for.

SIX

STEPHANIE

A bouquet of flowers can mean many things. An apology. A celebration. A warning. Or worse, all three.

Samuel Davis is a golden retriever. Not in the truest sense, since he’s human, but he’s like a happy sunshine puppy with boundless energy and unending optimism, and he’s fast become a good friend in this small town in Texas.

He throws his head back and laughs at something Amalee whispers in his ear. She’s a little more prickly, but now that she’s decided I’m not here to steal her man, she’s warming up to me. Truth is, I’m not interested in any man. I’m settling into a life beyond the confines of an institution which gave me the space and the tools to heal but sheltered me far too much. So reentering the real world has been more difficult than I could have predicted. I’m not the same woman I once was, and while I grieve for the naive girl who saw the world through rose-tinted glasses, I don’t exactly miss her. That girl not only couldn’t sense danger, she didn’t even recognize it when it came knocking on her door.

My hand tightens around my glass, and I grit my teeth as a bunch of guys wolf-whistle at a stunning girl who saunters past with a coy smile and a wink. Now that is something I admire. The confidence to manage such attention and not want to crawl out of my skin when it’s given to me. The charity event was my first big test, and I did better than I predicted, staying until the end and only freaking out in the restroom three times, not thirty.

Small steps, little and often. That’s the motto. Exposure leads my overworked mind to reaffirm that everything is okay and nothing is out to hurt me.

I try and fail to stifle a yawn. Samuel raises a brow as Amalee tucks herself under his arm.

“I think I’m going to head home,” I say as my gaze tracks the shadowed parking lot. I feel watched, and that makes me feel like a self-absorbed walking victim. Nobody is watching me. Why would they be?

“We’ll drop you off,” Samuel answers, causing Amalee to scowl at him.

“I can just grab an Uber.”

They both laugh. Right. No Uber.

“Or call Honor,” I try.

“No need. We were heading out soon anyway. Also, if I let you make your own way home, Honor would have me strung up by my balls so fast.”

Fair point. No one messes with the newest Mrs. Alderidge.

I grab my purse and slide out of the booth we’ve been sitting at for the last hour. Earlier there were a few other people in their social circle with us, relaxing in each other’s company. It was nice listening to them poke at each other about their shared history, but I’ve never felt more untethered or lost among a group of people who’ve done nothing but be nice to me.

I think maybe I’m broken. I’m no longer teetering on the edge. I want to live; I just don’t know how. The institute gave me the will, but not the tools.

We slide into Samuel’s truck with Amalee in the center and me on the edge. How apt. Not that I have designs on another woman’s man. Even if I could open myself to loving again, I wouldn’t look at a taken man. I have enough complications without that in the mix.

Doesn’t stop my stomach from free-falling every time I see James. He’s off-limits for a whole other reason, the main one being that he’s the brother of my soon to be sister-in-law.

Soon as in when my idiot brother persuades her to say yes.