Page 20 of Kiss of Deceit

Riggs slid his hands in his jeans pockets, glancing at me. “He’s as stubborn as a mule. The grocery store sells small pocketknives?—”

“No,” I cut in sharply. “I want that one. The handle? It’s glass-reinforced nylon. This company is known for making their own steel by hand. And the lock for unfolding and folding is perfect.” I pointed to another knife on the shelf. “Would you like me to name and describe that one as well? I could do it for every weapon in this case.”

Silence fell over the room as both men stared at me. Buck finally closed his gaping mouth, running a hand over his gray beard.

“Are you sure you don’t hunt?” Riggs muttered before chuckling. “That was impressive.”

“I need to see your ID,” Buck stated before I could respond.

“Identification for a knife?” I questioned.

“Is that a problem?”

“No.” I dug my wallet out of my purse, handing him the new ID I got before coming to Winterlake. “It’s just unusual.”

He ignored me, setting the knives on top of the glass and taking out a clipboard with a stack of papers on it. He leaned closer, reading something on the handle of the knife before copying it to the paper on the clipboard. A serial number? While that wasn’t unheard of, it was interesting how strict it was to buy a small blade in this town. Maybe it was how they kept crime low.

Riggs strolled away, looking at me over his shoulder. “Good meeting you, Dani.”

The chime rang out when he exited, and I stared at his back as the glass paneled door swung shut. Another man fell in step with Riggs as they crossed the street, disappearing from view. Maybe Buck had a right to be cranky about loitering. Riggs walked out without buying anything. But there was only so much to do in this town; I was sure people milled around these stores all the time if they were bored.

“Sign here.”

My eyes swung back to Buck, who was holding his clipboard toward me. I scanned the paper, surprise taking hold. He’d written my name and ID number, along with the serial number for each knife. I scribbled my signature on the line, handing the pen back to him. If they wanted my information, then they could have it. As long as I had the protection I needed.

“It’s three hundred dollars for both,” he grunted, grabbing his cane to head back to the cash register.

I handed him my new debit card, taking note that the machine he slid it through was one of the oldest models I’d seen. But since this entire town only had dial up internet, I guessed the newer card machines probably didn’t work here.

My gut knotted when the receipt slowly printed. That was the rest of my money until I got paid again on Friday. In my mind, it was worth it. I’d been on edge ever since I was chased in the forest.

Having protection outweighed being hungry for a couple days.

CHAPTER TEN

dani

“Shit, shit, shit,”I muttered as I ran down the stairs, clutching the towel I had wrapped around me.

I’d set the timer for thirty minutes, or at least I thought I did.

But I fell asleep in the bath—for who knew how long—and the little clock I’d brought into the bathroom from the kitchen was blinking all zeros. Meaning I had no idea how long my meal had been in the oven. I was used to taking short showers, but I figured I could have a bath until the alarm went off. With how cold it had been, the hot water was therapeutic. I could have sat in it all night. As tense as it was to live under the same roof as a man I didn’t know, I couldn’t deny how much I loved my plush bed and a bathtub. It was a comfort I hadn’t had in the last couple years.

“Damn,” I breathed out, witnessing black fumes seeping out from the oven door.

Crouching down, I opened the oven, letting out a shriek when I saw flames. Smoke billowed out, heat hitting my face. I stumbled back, nearly slipping on the wood floor since I was still dripping wet. Lunging forward, I slammed the oven closed again, hoping to smother the fire.

I blew out an aggravated breath. I’d gotten my first paycheck today and spent a quarter of it on this food and the cooking supplies. What a waste.

A shrill beeping filled the room, and my eyes flicked up to the smoke alarm in the living room. But then I realized the front door was open. My heart stuttered when I witnessed Kole standing in the doorway, his brown eyes narrowed at me.

“What in the hell is going on?” he growled, striding toward me, only to stop short when his gaze dropped to my body.

My face flushed, and I gripped the towel tighter with one hand while reaching up and pulling the other towel off my hair, feeling wet strands against the back of my neck. Now that my scars were covered, I didn’t feel nearly as naked even though I was wearing next to nothing.

“I just cooked it too long,” I mumbled, jabbing my finger on the button to shut the oven off.

“My oven is on fire.”