Page 22

The sound of the gun firing is more jarring than the bullet that just grazed my shoulder before puncturing the tile above my kitchen sink.

I drop the dish I was about to rinse for the dishwasher and eat up the space between me and Delilah in four steps. I don’t think about the blood falling from my shoulder making the same trip across the kitchen. I don’t think about anything but getting to her.

She’s standing now, her fingers still wrapped around the gun while smugness and surprise fight for dominance on her face.

She looks like she’s just as surprised she pulled the trigger as I am.

Backing her into the wall, I watch her eyes narrow until my forearm slams against her throat, locking her in place.

She doesn’t struggle against me. Instead, she lifts her chin and trains her gaze on me with a smirk.

“How do you know I won’t shoot you again?”

Because that gun only had one round left in it. I don’t tell her that because it’s bad enough the safety wasn’t on. Jamming my forearm harder against her throat, I step closer, letting my next command land on her skin. “Give me the fucking gun, Delilah.”

“You first. Give me my phone,Adonis.”

Seconds pass and the devilish gleam in her eyes refuses to dim. Even when it gets harder for her to breathe, her smile doesn’t waver.

Gazes locked, skin to skin, a simmering heat tries to push its way to the surface, but I shove it down. I can’t look away from this woman. I’m still searching for something. A glimmer of recognition. A spark of the mischief I saw this time last year. But it’s missing.

And I can’t focus on the burning wound on my shoulder or the fiery panic consuming my lungs. Because she doesn’t remember me. But it’s clear that she hates me.

It’s in her glare. The flare of her nose. The malice marking her every move.

It’s all fucking clear as day.

Done with letting distraction win, I free the gun from her grip and tuck it in the back of my pants.

“What?” she sneers. “Asking nicely didn’t get you what you wanted? Join the club.”

Titus’ barking drowns out my retort and five seconds later, Ms. Aggie rounds the corner. The cheerful smile on her face fades when she sees Delilah’s feet dangling in midair.

“Oh, my goodness, what is all this?” Her hands are ather mouth as her gaze does a dramatic sweep around the kitchen.

Great, now I’ve traumatized my fucking housekeeper and lost my composure with the woman I’m supposed to be protecting.

Without warning, I release Delilah and let her stumble to the floor.

Titus whines at her startled yelp, but I exit the kitchen before another second of chaos has a chance to consume me.

On my way out, I hear Agnes mumble to Delilah. “You sit down and let me clean up this floor. I’ll get breakfast started for you in a minute, sweetie.”

I can’t fucking deal with this today.

“No safety, sir?”Victor’s concern is palpable as he dresses the wound on my shoulder. There’s no judgement, just worry stitching his brows while I focus on anything but the sting of the needle threading my skin back together.

“That’s not like you,” he notes.

No, it’s not like me. None of this is like me at fucking all. Unclamping my jaw, I reply, “It’s been a long week.”

Victor nods, not missing a beat while he goes to grab the fresh dress shirt from the hanger before handing it to me. “Here you are, sir.”

I dress in silence, irritated with myself for letting the woman in my kitchen get to me so easily. I don’t usually lose my composure like that. I just need to adjust to her personality.

She has a mean streak. I can work with that.

Sliding the tin of mints from my pocket, I pop two in mymouth before walking to the door of my office. Titus is camped out where I need to walk, using his body as a roadblock.