Page 117 of Kill for a Kiss

Just before they vanish, Stan tosses one last wink over his shoulder. Something slips from his pocket. It lands quietly in the grass.

The other item left behind is the fallen invitation, only a few feet away after the breeze brings it closer to where Sterling and I are hiding.

There’s a letter written in perfect loops in the center.L. In dark, dripping red. Superstitions, like the number four. A name in red meansdeath.

27

Sterling

The second Stan disappears into the dark with Lix at his heel, I sprint. My feet tear across the damp ground. I move fast and hard, straight through the space where Stan tossed the invitation.

But it isn’t the card I grab. It’s the phone. Facedown in the grass, screen still glowing. I scoop it up, flip the cracked hinge just enough to see the pixelated photo.

Elle. Wind in her hair. Leaning close to Stan.

My jaw tightens. It was from weeks ago, before I got to her. Before I pulled her out of hell. So it doesn’t matter if Stan got to her first, got to take a stupid picture that means nothing now.Doesn’t matter.

I pocket the damn thing. She doesn’t need to see it. She doesn’t need to be reminded of who held her first.

Behind me, I hear the sound of her steps as she bends to pick up the card. Stan left it there for a reason.

I see her out of the corner of my eye. Standing under the stars, card clutched in her hand, the foil trim catching the light. Her fingers shake slightly. Her lips are parted, but she hasn’t said a word.

I stay crouched. Steadying my breath. Trying to pull myself together before I face her.

When I stand, I meet her eyes. Pain shoots into my chest. There’s too much in her gaze. Questions over Lix, I’m sure. Hurt over why she can’t remember. Hope of what might come back to her.

I can’t begin to guess what she’ll ask first. So I offer her the only thing I have left that feels honest. “Ask,” I say quietly. “Anything. I’ll tell you the truth.”

Even if it kills me. Even if she walks away. Even if she never wants to see me again, once she knows about everything. Because I’d rather have her hate me for the truth than ever possibly love me for a lie.

She watches me. Long enough that my ribs start to ache. Long enough that every muscle braces for the impact. Then she shakes her head. “No,” she says.

My chest pulls tight. “No?”

She steps forward, the invitation held in her hand like an afterthought. My brows crease together, confused. Because she’s looking at me like the rest of the world doesn’t exist. Like the number Clo gave her—L, fifty—written in red isn’t a warning begging for our attention. Like Lix’s sudden appearance and Stan’s disappearance haven’t shaken her.

Instead, she stops dead in her tracks, right in front of me. So close I could kiss her. “I told you, didn’t I?” she says, frowning. “I’ve spent too long trying to remember what happened before. The fire. Kys. Everything that broke me.”

I can see her breath fog in the air between us. I don’t see mine. Can’t breathe right now. I don’t remember how to.

“All I need is you,” she whispers.

Then she kisses me. Her mouth moves against mine with heat and need. That small, wrecked sound she makes against my lips knocks the air left out of my lungs.

Elle is never anything I expect. She’s the only thing that I can’t figure out, can’t predict, can’t control myself around.

I kiss her back, but there’s no time to catch up to her intensity. The invitation slips from her fingers, forgotten. Just like everything else. Everything except this moment we have together.

She breathes into me, her gasps soft between kisses. My head spins. Because Elle made her choice.Me.

Elle’s lips brush my mouth, warm and quivering. Her fingers slide up my chest, holding me in place. “Sterling…”

My name on her lips nearly ruins me. I want to kiss her again. I want to lay her down in the grass and lose myself in the way she pulls me closer, in the way she answers every touch with more.

“I need you,” she says softly for words thatentirelyruin me.

My lungs seize. “Elle—”