Page 46 of The Vows We Keep

His eyes trail lazily down my body. I see them take in my hair, linger on my lips, then ease down to my chest. So, I pop my hip and stand a little straighter. Let him look. None of this is for him. And if he gets a hard-on, I’ll shoot him in it.

“My phone is inside. You want to come in and warm up a little by the fire?”

Oh, señor, you have no idea.“Are you sure? I don’t want to interrupt you.”

“Just about to have a beer. You want one?”

I shake my head and point vaguely down the road. “I’ll have to drive if the mechanic can fix my car.”

He steps back and pushes the door wide open. “I have an idea. Why don’t you come in. We have that drink. And then I walk down to your car, see if I can’t get it started for you?”

He’s some kind of idiot if he thinks I don’t see all the red flags happening here. While I don’t see any obvious weapons, he may have one stored somewhere he can reach quickly.

In my peripheral vision, I see a glimpse of Niro’s tall frame as he disappears down the hallway. I take in the faded rug, the single unopened button on the bottom of the man’s untucked shirt.

“Sure.” I step inside and feel his palm touch the lower part of my back. I don’t know why men always feel the urge to do that.

“Kitchen’s this way,” he says.

I follow him, my hand on the barrel of my gun.

Niro’s gun.

He trusted me with it.

I need to focus.

And by focusing, I hear the creak of the floorboard not caused by me or the man.

“Henley,” Niro says as he emerges into view as we reach the kitchen. His gun is held high, aimed right between the man’s eyes. “Where are the photographs?”

Henley. So now the man has a name. He puts his hands out, beads of sweat immediately forming on his forehead.

I pull out a chair and push him down into it. “You better sit.”

“What photographs?” he croaks.

Niro grins. “Don’t be predictable, Henley. You know what photographs. Every time you play innocent, I mentally double how painful I’m gonna make this. And considering I’m thinking of stabbing your eyes out for a start, you might want to reconsider.”

Henley looks at me. “I don’t know what he’s talking about. Please. Help me. I can pay you.”

Slowly, I walk up to Niro, slipping beneath the arm holding the gun aimed at Henley. Niro glances down at me, a lazy heat to his eyes. I slide my hand down over his ribs until I reach the holder on Niro’s belt and dramatically withdraw his knife slowly.

The only sound is Henley’s whimpers. Niro runs his tongue over his lower lip. He doesn’t stop me. Electricity passes between us, a spark ready to ignite.

“Here’s the thing,” I say, turning to face Henley. “Watching him use this is hot. So, the longer you take to answer, the more turned on I’ll get.”

“You’re sick,” Henley says.

I shrug. “Maybe. But calling me that doesn’t help you any.” Using the blade, I cut the button off his pants.

“What are you doing?” Henley asks, gripping my wrist.

“Hands off her, you fucker,” Niro says. There’s a deadly intensity to his tone that’s utterly unmistakable.

Henley lifts his hand off me like I’m the sun, too hot to touch.

“See, you were hinting at the door that we could get to know each other, which I assume, you meant at the time that I could play with your dick.” I turn the knife so it catches the reflection of the light above us. “And this is my idea of doing just that.”