Crowed (Team Zero #2) - Rina Kent Page 0,24

back. “How about you check it up close then?”

He’s towering over me now, invading my space, and if I don’t get myself together, I’ll be reduced to that wobbly mess from the other day.

I focus on the ground. “The wound looks fine.”

“You’re not even looking at it.”

“I don’t need to.”

“Are you sure?” He advances more until my towel-covered chest grazes his. Leather and his distinctive scent envelop me in a halo. My heart pounds. I feel myself cracking, wanting to get close.

Needing to get close.

This man, this stranger, this killer, is crossing limits that should remain intact. This isn’t right.

Never should be.

My palms plant on his chest, and I push him back with all my might. He barely budges. “Just leave me alone. Why can’t you do that?”

“Is that what you really want, Eloise?” His voice drops an octave, chilling me to the bone.

I meet his eyes, and it’s such a horrible idea. The iciness of his gaze traps me in an intimate hold. And like a freaking idiot, I stutter. “Y-yes.”

“Think again. The other time you wanted me to kill you and now, you want me to leave you alone? Do you think you can toy with death without paying the price?”

“Then kill me!” An angry energy pushes through my veins. He’s not the only one who’s able to push. I can push back as well. “What other price do I have to pay?”

He traps my chin between his fingers until my air is filled with him. His eyes darken and the lines of his face contort into that inhuman version I witnessed when he almost killed me. The killer version.

I have no doubt that this man can end a life as easily as he takes his next breath.

And yet, I’m not scared. If anything, I’m curious. Intrigued. Amazed.

I want to know everything about him, but I also feel the need to push him away. All at once. He’s dangerous to the fortress I’ve been building since Maman’s death, but he’s also an excitement I’m yearning to experience. Even if for only a short while.

“You don’t want to die,” Crow says in a low tone. “You think you do, but all you want is to stop the emotions from bubbling to the surface. Sooner or later, those bottled up feelings have to be released or they will suffocate you from the inside. It’s better to attack them before they attack you.”

Anger hits me like a train crash. I try to wiggle free, but his fingers dig into my skin, bruising, steel-like. That doesn’t stop me from shouting. “Keep the psychoanalysing to yourself! What the hell do you know about me to judge me?”

He pushes me. I stumble and my back hits the wall with a thud. “Been there. Done that. Bought the fucking T-shirt, Nurse Betty. If you think that numbing your emotions will keep you safe, then fucking think again. You’re only fooling yourself, and deep down, you know it.”

“Let me go.” I claw at his forearm. I need to find refuge away from him and whatever the hell he’s saying. I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to be trapped in that endless grief.

All I have to do is run to my room, lock the door, hide under the covers, and wallow in my numbness.

Crow’s not having it. He keeps me firmly caged between his chest and the wall. His fingers continue to hold my face hostage. “Not until you admit it.”

“Fine. You’re right. Just let me go,” I say everything he wants to hear so he’ll leave me alone. I can feel that surge of emotions rushing, shooting and climbing to the surface. I need to be alone and stay the hell away from this man.

“Say it.”

“Say what?”

“That you’re not fine like you pretend to be.”

I swallow the chaos running rampant in my chest. “I’m fine.”

His grip on my chin tightens as he shakes his head. “Try again, Nurse Betty.”

“Let me go!” I scream again, wiggling against him and hitting his chest. Anything so he’ll just release me. I’m trapped, lost, and confused.

I’m not supposed to have any of these emotions. I’m supposed to feel numb.

Numbness is safe.

Crow grabs both my wrists in his free hand and yanks them above my head against the wall. He leans close, his breaths fanning my face. “We can stand here all fucking day if you like.”

“Please...” I resort to pleading. The unwelcome sensation is nearing the surface. I can’t let all that chaos out.

“Please what?”

“Please stop provoking