Resurrected King - Kaye Blue Page 0,1

my heart.

Still, as nervous as I was, I held the gun steady, never taking my eyes off my prey.

I would have my answer.

For a few weeks, I hadn’t been able to shake the feeling of being watched, and tonight that would come to an end.

He stayed still, his back to me, the gun leveled at him, not that he seemed especially nervous.

I took in the rest of him, noting that the broad expanse of his shoulders was impressive, as was the quality of his suit.

Clothes weren’t really my thing, but I’d seen and bought enough cheap ones to know the difference, and his were anything but.

A quick glance down and I saw equally expensive shoes and went on even higher alert.

My neighborhood wasn’t the best or the worst, but a man wearing a suit and shoes that cost more than the bakery’s not inexpensive rent skulking around in the dead of night was suspicious.

“Do I need to ask again?”

He lifted his hands, his biceps flexing beneath the suit jacket as he turned to me slowly.

“No, you don’t, Adora.”

At the sight of him, his use of my name, I slowly lowered the gun, and dropped it to my side completely when he faced me.

“You?” I asked.

I hadn’t been afraid before, not exactly, more like determined.

And now that I had seen him, I was something else altogether.

Embarrassed.

Confused.

Turned on.

That last was one I would definitely ignore, though doing so seemed impossible.

When I met his eyes, the shock of connection was there, strong as it had been the first time I saw him.

Stronger.

Remembering that time reminded me of what was happening and made my questions come flooding back.

“What are you doing here? It’s not to pick up an order for the restaurant.”

I was flustered, but I refused to let that show.

“Just passing by,” he said.

He spoke evenly, his voice calm, but there was something about the words.

Tentativeness… Not exactly, because nothing about this man suggested he would ever be anything but sure.

But he seemed like he was expecting something, and I was too flustered to put my finger on exactly what.

“Passing through?”

He nodded, the motion making his dark brown hair flap against his forehead.

My gaze was stuck there, the slightly curly lock against his forehead so at odds with the rest of him.

Everything about his physicality, from his chiseled jaw to the broad shoulders and the muscle on top of muscle that comprised him was hard, unyielding. Even the firm set of what I knew to be impressively full lips seemed rigid.

So that lock of hair, shiny, almost decadent, provided yet another shock of contrast that seemed to compel me.

“You know that only works if the safety is off, don’t you?” he said, his gaze lowering to my hand and pulling me out of thoughts I had no business having.

“How do you know it’s not off?” I asked, hoping I could sound confident even though I was anything but.

He barely raised a brow, the motion practically imperceptible, but proving I was not convincing.

Howard had insisted on keeping the gun in the bakery, and I had eventually stopped fighting.

But standing out here with him now, feeling dainty, almost powerless, was a reminder that perhaps it wasn’t the most well thought out plan.

What did I know about guns? Nothing. Especially not something like taking the safety off, which seemed obvious now.

“Have a good night, Adora,” he said, turning and walking away.

He was halfway down the alley before I thought to react, and yet I waited, not sure what to say.

Not sure there was anything to say.

I didn’t buy that “passing by” line, not for a minute.

The words suggested a casualness that everything about him told me he wasn’t capable of.

But even more than that mystery was the mystery of my reaction to him.

One that wouldn’t be solved in this alley.

The gun heavy in my hand, I walked back inside the bakery, not realizing until after I closed the door that the man stood at the intersection of the alley in the street.

I turned quickly and after a few seconds opened the door. When I saw that he was gone, I closed it again.

Had he been waiting to see that I made it back inside?

The thought came nowhere but felt right.

There was no place for it, no reason to even think that he was looking out for me.

In fact, it wasn’t my concern why he had been around at all.

I had a full, busy life, one that had no room for mysterious strangers and dark alleys.

So, I