“Need a hand?” Cheney’s decidedly
less angry voice came from behind me.
I turned toward him, adrenaline
pumping through my veins as my body ready to dump everything and run, but all
he did was take the bag of groceries from my arms.
“How do you just appear out of
nowhere?”
He cocked an eyebrow and shot me a
half smirk that would have been ridiculously sexy if I didn’t hate him—and he
didn’t scare the crap out of me. “Shall we?”
I rolled my eyes, but led him to the
front door. “If I let you come in, will you promise not to hurt me?” I knew a
fat lot of good a promise would do me, but it’d make me feel better if I at
least had one.
“If I wanted to hurt you, I would’ve done so
by now, Selene.”
The way my named rolled off his tongue
sent chills down my spine. It was so familiar, yet completely terrifying. “Why
are you here?”
He didn’t reply only nodded toward
the front door.
“You didn’t promise,” I said
stubbornly.
He looked up at the sky. “I promise
harm will not come to Selene Warren this night by my hands. If it does, may the
stars rain down fire upon me and my flesh boil from my body for all eternity.”
He looked back at me with a wicked smile. “Happy now?”
“A simple, I promise not to hurt you, would
have been fine,” I muttered as I opened the door and flipped the switch. In the
kitchen Cheney placed the bag on the counter then leaned against it, staring at
me with something swimming underneath the surface. He looked lean and dangerous
like a predator watching its prey.
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