Page 12 of Cruel Possession

I feel sick to my stomach just thinking about it.

A week of looking over my shoulder and knowing that someone is out there, waiting for me to slip.

I can never let my guard down. Can’t remember the last time I got to sleep through the night.

As I unlock the door and step inside, I take a deep breath, my other hand hovering near the gun at the small of my back.

The house is dark, and there’s barely any noise. Just the sound of the fridge running and the old grandfather clock in the hallway chiming.

I let out a deep breath. “This is ridiculous.”

After flicking on the light and dropping my purse onto the entryway table, I still take my time going through the house and making sure that everything is as I left it. I don’t want to stumble into a room and find a nasty surprise.

I end the inspection of my house with the bathroom, but everything in there is normal too.

The hair I left on the closet’s doorknob is still there.

This is absurd. Nobody is here.

Aiden has had a week. If he was serious about killing me, he would’ve done it by now. He would’ve shown up at my house on one of the nights I was supposed to be alone, and he would’ve killed me while nobody was around.

Morgana is on her way over. It’s the worst night out of any that he could choose to attack me.

I rake a hand through my hair before heading down to the kitchen and opening up a bottle of white wine. I pour a hefty glass before setting the bottle back in the fridge.

A moment later, I open the cupboard where I keep the hard liquor and take down the bottle of tequila, drinking a shot straight from the bottle.

Morgana’s heels click against the floor before she dumps her overnight bag on the kitchen table. “Well, if that doesn’t look like a woman who’s had the longest week of her life, I don’t know what does.”

I put the bottle of tequila away and pull down another wine glass.

She grabs a bottle of red from the cabinet and pours a glass half the size of my own, sitting down at the kitchen island.

She swirls the wine around in her glass. “Does this mood you’ve been in for the last week have anything to do with the guy you’ve been hooking up with in secret?”

I sputter and reach for my wine, taking a healthy sip. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

With a snort, she gets up and moves into the living room, turning on the fireplace before dropping down to the couch. “Please, you’re so much less of a bitch when you’re getting fucked. People aren’t running scared when you walk into the room the morning after you’ve been dicked down. You might even smile.”

I roll my eyes and follow her, alcohol in hand. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“I’m not.”

I groan and settle into the cushions of the arm of the couch. “Look, things took a turn and shit’s over with that guy. He wasn’t worth my time to begin with. Just some fun to let out some tension with someone who doesn’t know who I am and what I’m capable of.”

Her eyes narrow as she studies me.

The most uncomfortable thing about sitting across from an assassin is the fact that they look like they’re staring straight through you.

It’s not so much the fact that Morgana could kill me and I wouldn’t know it was coming, it’s more that she’s lookingstraight through me, and she knows that I’m lying to her. She just can’t figure out how much or what I’m lying about.

Please, just drop it.

Morgana kicks off her boots and puts her feet up on the table. “Fine, if you want to keep your secrets, I’ll let you have them. It’s good for women to have a little bit of something exciting in their lives every now and then.”

I tilt my head back and stare at the ceiling. “I had another meeting with the boss today.”

“What did he want?”