Split(82)

If only women were as easy to control.

Feeling settled, I gear up to pull back and let Luke take over when I hear the sound of an engine and tires on gravel over my left shoulder.

Great. What now?

Never having been the type to give a shit about hospitality, I don’t bother getting up.

A car door slams and seconds later footsteps crunch earth, growing closer, until they stop.

“Hey!”

I slide my gaze to Shyann, who’s focused curiously on the dog before she squints and focuses on me. She lifts her chin, but I notice she keeps a safe distance between us.

“Good, it’s you.” She takes a few steps closer, but far enough away that it would take a great bit of effort to grab her. “Let’s walk.”

I tilt my head, lean back in my wooden chair, and prop my feet on the railing. “No thanks.” I motion to Buddy. “I’m busy.”

“He never comes out like that for Lucas.”

My gaze drops to the near-sleeping dog in my lap. “So?”

“He feels safe around you.”

Her brow lifts as if she’s finally cracked my armor and damn proud of herself for it. She has no idea what I’m capable of. “What do you want, Shy?”

“We need to talk.”

“We don’t.” I turn away from her and focus on the creek. “Not sure why you keep hanging around.”

The sound of her shuffling closer makes me want to lunge for her throat.

“I want to show you something.” Her voice loses its power, as if she’s struggling for the right thing to say. “It’s important and, just . . . f*ck.”

Her weakness sends a thrill down my spine, like dying prey in the ears of a predator. “I might be interested if what you wanna show me is in your pants . . .” I run my thumb along my lower lip and slide my gaze from her booted feet to her curve-hugging sweater. “On second thought, no thanks. You’re not my type.”

Her eyes flame with anger and her mouth forms a tight line.

I chuckle; I can’t f*ckin’ help it. This woman has been more fun to torture than anyone I’ve ever met. She wants to know why I haven’t killed her yet? I’m not done playing.

“You intend to scare me, belittle me, make being in your presence unbearable, and yet you can’t stand to be alone with me.” She props two delicate hands on her hips. “Looks like I’m the intimidating one, huh, Gage?”

My glare pulls so tight my eye twitches. “We go for a walk, only one of us might come back.”

She rolls her eyes. “Ya know, real psychopaths don’t openly threaten the person they want to kill. They disguise themselves as safe to lure in their victims. Come on, Gage. You can do better than that.”

I drop the front legs of my chair to the wood deck, making her jump.

“Hmmm . . .” I lick my lips. “Excellent point, Shyann.” I purr the first part of her name. “I’ll go for a walk with you.”

She exhales a shaky breath and I stalk toward her; every step seems to increase her breathing and for a ridiculous second I imagine what it would feel like to have her under me breathing like that. I banish the thought as quickly as it came and blame Luke and his *-whipped feelings.

Before I reach her, she turns toward the creek. “Follow me.”

My teeth grind together, not at all appreciating being told what to do, especially by a woman, but watching her ass sway in a pair of sinfully tight jeans makes me think following ain’t so bad.

She heads to the makeshift bridge over the creek, nothing more than a few downed trees pushed to cross safely over the water. Her steps are lithe and sure; clearly the bitch has experience in the forest.

“You taking me out in the middle of the woods to take advantage of me?” I step on the logs, jogging across and hopping off only to look up and meet her icy-blue stare.

“Maybe.” She shrugs and keeps walking.

A laugh rumbles in my chest and I freeze. What the f*ck was that? I don’t laugh. I mean, not unless it’s at the expense of someone else.

Blinking, I move to catch up to Shyann, who’s keeping a pretty decent pace up a slight incline. We aren’t following a trail, but the path is clear of bushes and large rocks. I mentally clock which direction we’re heading just in case I do end up getting left out here and need to find my way back, but she doesn’t even look up. It’s as if this path is pulled from a map in her mind, one she’s traveled often.

I don’t know how long we’ve been hiking for, but by the time we stop, my T-shirt is damp with sweat and I’m breathing heavy. Shyann pulls an elastic band off her wrist and secures her hair into a ponytail, exposing the gentle slope of her neck, shining with exertion.

Not that I noticed.

She gives me her eyes but only for a second before looking away. “You okay?”

“Of course I’m okay.” Irritation shadows my response.

“It’s a little ways up here.” She motions to the hill thick with shrubs and crisscrossed fallen tree trunks. “Let me know if you need me to carry you.”

My hand flies on instinct and swats her ass so hard a flock of birds spook and scatter from a nearby tree.

Shyann squeaks and pins me with a glare that stirs my blood.

It’s not hatred working behind her eyes; it’s something else. Heated in a way that makes me aware of my own racing pulse.