Page 6

“Kid?” she repeated, eyes widening. “I’m not a kid. I’m seventeen.”
“Is that so?” Hell, as if I didn’t already notice she was all grown up. Nothing about her reminded me of a kid, but dammit, as Dee would say, I had piss-poor social skills. “You look like you’re twelve. No. Maybe thirteen, but my sister has this doll that kinda reminds me of you. All big-eyed and vacant.”
Her mouth dropped open, and I realized that I may have gone a little too far with that last statement. Well, it was for the better. If she hated me, she’d stay away from Dee. It worked with most of the girls. Ah, most of them.
Okay. That didn’t work with a lot of girls, but they didn’t live next door, so what the hell ever.
“Yeah, wow. Sorry to bother you. I won’t be knocking on your door again. Trust me.” She started to turn, but not quickly enough that I didn’t see the sudden glisten in those gray eyes.
Dammit. Now I felt like the biggest dick ever. And Dee would flip if she saw me acting like this. Stringing together a dozen or so curses in my mind, I called out to her. “Hey.”
She stopped on the bottom step, keeping her back to me. “What?”
“You get on Route 2 and turn onto U.S. 220 North, not South. Takes you into Petersburg.” I sighed, wishing I’d never answered the door. “The Foodland is right in town. You can’t miss it. Well, maybe you could. There’s a hardware store next door, I think. They should have things that go in the ground.”
“Thanks,” she muttered and added under her breath, “douchebag.”
Did she just call me a douchebag? What decade were we in? I laughed, genuinely amused by that. “Now that’s not very ladylike, Kittycat.”
She whipped around. “Don’t ever call me that.”
Oh, I must’ve hit a sore spot there. I pushed out the door. “It’s better than calling someone a douchebag, isn’t it? This has been a stimulating visit. I’ll cherish it for a long time to come.”
Her little hands balled into fists. I think she wanted to hit me. I think I might’ve liked it. And I think I seriously needed help.
“You know, you’re right. How wrong of me to call you a douchebag. Because a douchebag is too nice of a word for you.” She smiled sweetly. “You’re a dickhead.”
“A dickhead?” It would be too easy to like this girl. “How charming.”
She flipped me off.
I laughed again, lowering my head. “Very civilized, Kitten. I’m sure you have a wide array of interesting names and gestures for me, but not interested.”
And she looked like she did. Part of me was a bit disappointed when she spun around and stomped off. I waited until she yanked open her car door and because I really was an ass…
“See you later, Kitten!” I called out, chuckling when she looked like she was about to race back to the door and kangaroo kick me.
Slamming the door shut behind me, I leaned against it and laughed again, but the laugh ended in a groan. There’d been a moment where I’d seen what flickered behind the disbelief and anger in those soulful gray eyes. Hurt. Knowing that I’d hurt her feelings made the acid in my stomach churn.
Which was stupid, because last night, I’d considered an arson-assisted relocation plan and hadn’t felt guilty then. But that was before I saw her up close and all kinds of personal. Before I actually spoke to her. Before I realized her eyes were intelligent and beautiful.
Returning to the living room, I wasn’t at all surprised to find my sister standing in front of the TV, her slender arms crossed and green eyes burning. She looked just like that girl’s expression—like she wanted to kick me in the nuts.
I gave her a wide berth as I headed to the couch and dropped down on it, feeling a dozen years older than the eighteen I was. “You’re blocking the screen.”
“Why?” she demanded.
“It’s a damn good episode.” I knew that wasn’t what she was talking about. “The one guy thinks he’s possessed by a shadow person or some—”
“I don’t give a crap about a shadow person, Daemon!” She lifted her small foot and slammed it down with enough force to rattle the coffee table. Dee took stomping her feet to a whole new level. “Why did you act like that?”
Leaning back, I decided to play dumb. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Her eyes narrowed but not quickly enough that I missed how her pupils gleamed diamond white. “There was no reason for you to talk to her like that. None whatsoever. She came over here to ask for directions and you were a jerk.”
Katy’s too-bright gray eyes flashed in my mind. I shoved that image away. “I’m always a jerk.”
“Okay. That part is sort of true.” Her brow wrinkled. “But you’re not usually that bad.”
My stomach churned again. “How much of it did you hear?”
“Everything,” she said, stomping her foot again. The TV trembled. “I don’t have a doll that is vacant-eyed. I don’t have any dolls, you ass.”
My lips twitched despite everything, but the humor quickly faded because the memory of those damn gray eyes surfaced again. “It’s the way it has to be, Dee. You know that.”
“No, I don’t. I don’t know that and neither do you.”
“Dee—”
“But you know what I do know?” she interrupted. “She seemed like a normal girl who came over here to just ask a question. She seemed normal , Daemon, and you were horrible to her.”