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Deadly Obsession

Page 22

by April Hunt


  “You think you’re something special, don’t you?”

  Francine’s question turned her back around. “Excuse me?”

  “I suppose it’s not entirely your fault. You’ve been doted on your entire life.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, and honestly, I don’t care to. So if you don’t mind, I’m leaving.”

  “I get it,” Francine’s tone altered. With no sign of her usual snarl, she actually looked human.

  “You get what?”

  “Knox. On the outside, he’s a real tempting package. He’s got enough alpha to make a woman swoon, and bad boy to fulfill her wildest dreams. But trust me, honey, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”

  “And why should I listen to you?”

  Francine’s mouth twisted into a sardonic smile. “Because I saw that look on your face out on the dance floor. Hell, I wore that look. So I’m going to do you a favor, woman to woman.”

  “Other than leave?” Zoey summoned her inner fire.

  Francine coated her lips in another layer of vivid red and dropped the tube in her purse. “And that little spark…the one wishing you could disintegrate me with a bat of those pretty blue eyes? That’s why you and Knox will never work.

  “Knox is a fixer,” Fran added. “He’s the hero. Put someone in front of him that needs to be protected, and he’d walk through bullets to keep them safe. But once that woman shows she’s not without a little bit of Kevlar in her spine? It’s party over. At least for the woman. Knox, however, will pick up where he left off…with someone else who needs a little saving.”

  Zoey forced her gaze to hold Francine’s, wanting to blame her words on catty jealously, but there was a grain of truth emanating from her tone. Even if it wasn’t true, Fran believed that it was.

  Zoey summoned her brother’s mask of indifference. “Is that all?”

  “That’s all.” Francine brushed past her on her way to the door. “I felt it was my duty to warn you. Now it’s up to you what you do with the information.”

  Zoey stood alone in the bathroom and fought through the round of nausea turning her stomach. Despite her desire to shrug off Francine’s words, she couldn’t. Not entirely. She’d seen Knox’s protective streak more times than she could count.

  Was his interest in her that simple?

  When they were alone, and naked, he didn’t treat her as a breakable object, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t how he viewed her. That was the risk she took in getting involved with someone who’d seen her past firsthand. Two weeks was hardly enough time to shed a stigma that’d followed you around for your entire life.

  The longer Zoey tried making sense of it all, the fiercer the pounding headache behind her eyes became.

  No longer in the mood to deal with anyone, much less a room full of pretentious strangers, she called for a Lyft, and once she was waiting at the hotel’s entrance, fired off a quick text to Grace, and an even shorter one to Knox telling them she didn’t feel well and was going home.

  She needed time alone. With no distractions. With no one’s thoughts and opinions other than her own. Thankfully, her ride came quickly. No sooner was the driver pulling away from the curb than the hotel’s front door swung open.

  Knox stepped onto the sidewalk, his head swiveling as if looking for someone.

  For her.

  His gaze locked on to the car pulling away, and despite the dark hour and the tint of the back window, it felt as if he stared straight into her soul. Tears welled in Zoey’s eyes as she mourned the loss of something that had never been hers for the taking.

  Standing in the shadows, oblivious to the activity around him, he drew in a deep breath and shivered as Her flowery scent wrapped around him like a warm hug.

  So close.

  It had taken every ounce of restraint he owned not to act impulsively…and he’d reaped the reward.

  It was happening.

  He’d witnessed the signs with his own two eyes.

  It was only a matter of time now.

  There was just the small matter of his current distraction…

  He couldn’t lump this one with the others. From first glance, he’d known that this one was nothing more than a means to bring Her back. He’d proven it with the foul creature before. The second he disposed of the body, She would be called. His Heart would return, and he’d be there to watch.

  He opened the door to his home, returning the woman’s hopeful smile with one of his own, and gestured inside. “This is me.”

  “It’s gorgeous.” Her greedy eyes flickered from the professionally hung artwork to the elaborately decorated library. “I have to admit something. I didn’t run into you by accident. I made sure it happened.”

  “And why would you do that?”

  “Because I always go after what I want. No sense in waiting for something to happen when you can speed the process along. Am I right?”

  “I couldn’t agree more.”

  Chapter

  Twenty-Two

  Sweat superglued Zoey’s back to the gym mat. Moving meant losing the first layer of skin. Not that she could move. She’d lost feeling in all her extremities about ten minutes ago and couldn’t push herself to her feet, much less remain standing.

  “When I die, make sure I’m buried with all seven seasons of Buffy.” Her lungs worked overtime to haul in fresh doses of oxygen.

  Grace’s chuckle ended with a breathless pant. “What about your Angel collection?”

  “Donate them—except for the Angel-Buffy crossover episodes. Tuck those by my feet. Just make sure my shoes don’t smudge the covers.”

  “Anything else before I read you your last rites?”

  “Yeah. Don’t let my brother dress me in that horrific cherry-print dress he bought me for my last birthday. I will not spend eternity dressed as a fruit salad.” They laughed as Zoey struggled into a sitting position. “I’d hate to think how I’d feel right now if I hadn’t taken a nap earlier.”

  “It doesn’t constitute as a nap when it’s over two hours.” Grace tossed Zoey her water bottle and threw a critical glare to the other side of the room. “That class was punishment because he’s not getting any.”

  Zoey choked on her water and coughed. “What?”

  Grace’s mouth lifted in a coy smirk. “I’m a walking people-reader, and I can spot sexual frustration from miles away. It resembles drug withdrawal.”

  “Sex withdrawal? Seriously?”

  “It’s a thing. Which brings us to the question Why is Knox withdrawing? And from whom?”

  Zoey took a large drink to avoid answering. Grace chuckled and threw a towel at her head. “Keep your secrets. Lord knows you deserve to have a few skeletons in your closet. Just know that they have a habit of popping out when you least expect.”

  “I’m not so sure the skeleton’s big enough to pop out.”

  Grace’s smirk widened. “So there is a skeleton.”

  “I don’t know what there is,” Zoey muttered under her breath. “Or if it’s going to continue.”

  Which was why she hadn’t wanted to go to self-defense tonight. She needed time to get her thoughts in order. But Grace had shown up on her doorstep, gym bag in hand, and strong-armed her off her couch and out the door. And why not? It was a Cade-free zone.

  Zoey wasn’t as lucky.

  She’d spent the better part of the last three days avoiding Knox because seeing him confused her more. She couldn’t quite meld Francine’s words at the gala with the man who looked at her as if he couldn’t wait to strip away her clothes.

  “Is the sex that bad?” Grace’s question pulled Zoey away from her internal struggle. Immediately contemplating her words, her friend held out a hand. “Never mind. Don’t tell me. Hearing about my cousin’s sex life has way too high of an ick factor. Just tell me the important details.”

  “I don’t want to be that woman, Gracie. I’ve spent my entire life trying not to be that woman.”

  “You’re going to have
to be a little more specific.”

  “Someone to be fixed. Someone to be stuffed in a box and marked up with red fragile tape.”

  “Who the hell is stuffing you in a box?” Grace looked about ready to knock heads together.

  “You know what I mean. My past makes me an obvious target for hero types.” Zoey’s gaze automatically drifted to where Knox stood across the room talking to Dottie. “And there are no bigger Mr. Fix-Its than your cousins. Especially Knox.”

  Realization dawned all over Grace’s face. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that whoever gave you that ridiculous idea likes talking out of their ass. And now I’m going to go exactly where I said I didn’t want to go.”

  Face contorted into a look of pain, Grace released a long breath. “With as few details as possible, please, on a scale of one to ten…one being something you could sleep through and ten being something people in the neighboring county couldn’t sleep through…how would you rate your sexual experiences with Knox?”

  “Grace!” Zoey threw her towel back in her friend’s face.

  “Trust me, this topic of conversation is not bringing me any joy. But seriously, Zo. When you’re together, has he taken off your clothes and broken out the bubble wrap?”

  “You’re being ridiculous.”

  “One of us is, but it’s not me, my friend. Men don’t usually visually and physically devour women they think are fragile little daylilies.”

  “So you’re saying Knox isn’t protective?”

  Grace snort-chuckled. “That’s not what I’m saying at all. Of course he is. All my cousins are. But there’s a huge difference between someone who thrives on the adrenaline associated with saving the world, and one who simply wants to keep the people they care about safe. And just so there’s no misunderstanding, Knox is the latter.”

  A shadow fell over Zoey, pulling her attention up.

  The man himself, his shirt dampened with sweat, stopped inches shy of her sneakers. His gaze bounced between his cousin and her, lingering over Zoey. “Looks like an intense conversation over here. You two aren’t plotting to overthrow the teacher, are you?”

  “It would serve you right if we were.” Grace got to her feet, wincing. “This is self-defense class. I’m not supposed to feel like I’m training for the Olympics.”

  “If you don’t like it, the front door’s right behind you, cuz,” Knox challenged.

  “And leave your sadistic self alone with my best friend? No freakin’ way.”

  Zoey got to her feet. The second she stood, someone—or something—stole the breath from her lungs. She sucked in a gasp and felt Knox’s arm immediately at her elbow. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Just…got a little winded there for a second. I’m fine now.” And it was the truth—mostly. She took a deep breath and fought off the slight swirl of her head.

  She eased from Knox’s arms only for him to sweep her up into a princess carry. “What are you doing? Knox! Put me down!”

  He deposited her into a chair and hovered so close she had no choice but to stay seated. “Sit. Breathe.”

  Clenching her teeth, she growled, “I’m. Fine.”

  “People who are fine don’t go around collapsing.”

  Zoey’s head could’ve been on a merry-go-round and she would’ve stood up just to wipe that hear-man-speak tone from Knox’s voice. She edged her seat backward far enough to stand her ground.

  His hand shot toward her elbow, but she slid it away. “Plant my ass in a chair as if I’m a preschooler again, and you’re going to be the one that’s not fine.”

  Knox’s eyes darkened in silent challenge, but she refused to back down. Francine’s words echoed in her head on a repetitive wheel, making her more determined to stand on her own two feet.

  Literally.

  Finally, Knox lifted his hands in a sign of defeat and stepped back, but he didn’t go far. His mouth, already frowning, pinched tight as Grace hustled over, another person in tow.

  “Look who I found walking through the door.”

  Wearing basketball shorts and a T-shirt, Dr. Samuel followed quickly on her heels. “What’s wrong?”

  “Zoey nearly collapsed,” Grace tattled.

  “I didn’t nearly collapse. I got a little winded, but it’s over now,” Zoey protested the fuss, fully aware of the attention they’d drawn as Dr. Samuel guided her back into her seat.

  That standing on her own two feet was pretty short-lived.

  “This is overkill,” she complained.

  “I say it’s not-enough-kill. And the only reason you didn’t drop was because I caught you.” Knox didn’t flinch at her sharp glare. “Narrow those pretty eyes at me all you want, angel, but I’m not going to lie to the one person you may actually listen to.”

  “Grace sounds as if she’s sucking in oxygen through a straw and no one’s making a fuss over her right now.”

  “Hey, leave me out of it!” Grace hid a smirk.

  “As far as I know, your friend isn’t a cardiac patient.” Dr. Samuel reached for her wrist and checked her pulse. “Get my gym bag. The black one with the silver handles? My stethoscope’s in there and I need to take a quick listen.”

  Dr. Samuel looked toward Knox, signifying that the order had been meant for him. The two men locked gazes before Knox reluctantly left to go in search of the doctor’s bag.

  When he dropped it next to them, Doc Samuel didn’t waste any time. “You know the drill, Zoey. In and out.”

  Zoey turned her deep breath into a heavy sigh, earning a chuckle from the cardiologist. He listened at every pivotal position around her heart, both front and back. “Everything still in its proper place?”

  Dr. Samuel linked his stethoscope around his neck. “Is this the first time you’ve felt this way? Have you been having any other symptoms? Palpitations? Excessive fatigue?”

  “First time. And no, no, and no.”

  “Zoey,” Grace warned.

  Her face heated as she snuck a glance at Knox. If he already saw her as needing a few layers of bubble wrap, this wasn’t exactly the way to get him to strip it away. “I guess I have been a little more tired than usual lately, but in my defense, work has been crazy intense. And then when I’m not on duty, I’m…” She snuck another look at Knox. “…my schedule has just been a little hectic.”

  Dr. Samuel helped her up to her feet. “Hectic or not, you’re coming into the office. Tomorrow. Don’t even bother calling to make an appointment. I’ll tell Lisa when I get in and we’ll make it happen. We’ll do an echo and check your labs…see if we need to change your meds again.”

  Zoey resigned herself to her fate. “Sure.”

  “And you should put the brakes on the self-defense classes for the time being—at least until we get a good grasp on what’s going on. You need to be your own patient advocate, Zoey, especially if your instructors aren’t going to do it.”

  Silence hung in the air, tense and expanding by the second, and judging by Knox’s tight expression, about to explode.

  Dr. Samuel packed his things and stood. “Do you need a ride home?”

  “She has one,” Knox growled.

  Before long, Zoey and Knox had walked Grace to her car, and the awkward silence from inside the gym returned. By the time they reached Knox’s truck, the tension snapped.

  He held the passenger door open but snagged her elbow before she climbed inside. “Are you okay? No dizziness? No shortness of breath?” Knox asked, voice gruff.

  Annoyance pulled Zoey’s arm from his grip. “Yes, I’m sure. Do you want to check my oxygen saturation?”

  “No. I want to do this.” Knox caged her against the door and dropped his mouth onto hers in a mind-numbing kiss. There was no easy buildup. The second his tongue slipped between her lips, her body melted. She forgot they stood on a DC sidewalk, forgot they were keeping their relationship on the down-low and that anyone could walk by and see them.

  She damn near forgot her name by the time he slowly pulled away.r />
  Zoey touched her kiss-swollen lips. “Just when I think kissing you can’t get any better.”

  “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me for three days?”

  “I haven’t—” She couldn’t even deny it. “Okay, yeah. I have. I needed to think about a few things.”

  His eyes roamed her face as if trying to pull an explanation directly from her mind. “And were any of these things brought up by Francine by any chance?” At her stunned expression, he added, “I saw her walk out of the gala ballroom right after you. I put two and two together.”

  Zoey still struggled to wrap her head around her feelings. What Grace had said inside made sense, but it didn’t make her fear any less real. Or debilitating.

  Knox, misconstruing her silence for defiance, added gruffly, “If you’re going to let whatever Francine said chase you away, then the least you could do is tell me why you’re running.”

  Zoey frowned at the insinuation that she’d gone on the run—even though she had. “Am I just a notch on your Save-o-Meter?”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Genuine confusion clouded his dark eyes.

  His gaze dropped to where she nervously bit her bottom lip, and he freed it with his thumb. “Is that what’s been going through your head for the last few days? You think that I see you as a way to get my hero on?”

  “When you say it like that, it sounds stupid,” Zoey muttered, rolling her eyes.

  “It’s not stupid if it kept us apart for three days and nights.” Knox gently pinched her chin between his fingers, holding her attention hostage. “It’s not stupid if you believe that it’s the reason I’m with you right now. Do I want to keep you from harm? Yes. Shout at me if you want, but I’m not going to apologize for caring about you.”

  Zoey’s breath hitched. “You care?”

  “Of course I do.” Knox’s hands edged along the inch of bare skin between her exercise pants and tank top. He gently lifted her into the seat, and leaned close. “If I saw you as a notch on my Save-o-Meter, or as some kind of delicate flower,” he said, using her own words, “I wouldn’t be standing here right now debating how long it would take me to get to the boat, strip off your clothes, and slide inside you.”

 

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