Page 90 of Kill for a Kiss

Stanley chews, mouth open. “Why hasn’t she made a move then? She’s had time.”

I stare into the fire. “She’s rebuilding.”

He frowns, kissing his teeth. “Yup. Ourlovelymother doesn’t like to lose.”

“Knowing her, she’s not focusing on getting Elle back,” I say, piecing it together aloud. “Not so soon after a failed attempt. She had herchance. She blew it. And since I disappeared with Elle, Clo’s more likely focused on getting her Kys operations up and running again.”

Stanley frowns deeper, tossing the stick into the flames. “So she gets her empire back,thencomes after Elle.”

I nod, gazing at the fire blazing as it turns the stick into ash.

“Shit,” he mutters. “This means we’ve only got a window of time. Maybe a small one.”

I look at the cabin behind us, at the small light spilling out from behind the curtain. “We have a chance to act. But I’m not leaving her side.”

Stanley’s quiet for a few seconds. Then he sighs. “Yeah. I get it. Trust me.”

I glance at him. He doesn’t elaborate. I don’t ask. I don’t wanna fucking know. Especially if this is about Elle and how he feels about her. I can’t hear that shit again without risking the urge to pummel him into the ground again.

“But that doesn’t mean we just sit here and wait,” Stanley says, standing and stretching. “You’ve got eyes. Use them.”

I raise a brow. “You volunteering?”

“Hell no. I’ve got the subtlety of a brick. But your guy on the computer can track her.”

I take my phone out, scrolling through encrypted contacts until I find the one I want.

“Don’t tell ‘em anything about the threesome,” Stanley adds, dead serious.

“I wasn’t going to.”

“It’stoojuicy.”

I sigh, ignoring Stanley, and hitcall.

The meat crackles on the fire as I wait. Stanley’s already flipping ribs like we’re at some damn backyard barbecue and not plotting against one of the most sinister women in the world. But this ishow it always was with him. He’s all idiotic chaos, dark jokes, and glistening knives buried under his smug grin.

The line clicks. A familiar voice answers. “Oh, hey there, rookie. I was wondering when you’d call again.”

“Track someone for me,” I say. “Clo.”

Silence passes for a second, but then, the contact says, “The queen? Oh, we’re goingthere. How exciting for us, rookie.”

“Tell me everything you find.”

“I always do.” The contact keeps talking when I’m about to hang up. “You sound moody. Is this a bad time? Am I interrupting a—”

Yeah, I’m hanging up.

Stanley laughs, holding up a rib in toast. “To mommy issues and our messed-up lives.”

I glower at the fire. “To whatever comes next.”

***

The flames are lower now. The meat’s cooked, half-eaten, and we’ve fallen into silence. One of the rare kinds I’d like if it weren’t for Stanley lounging with a bone hanging out of his mouth like a cigar. I toss another log into the pit and sit back.

“Still pissed?” he asks, casual and cocky.