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I made a move to open the door, but he grabbed my hand. “I’m really worried about you.” The look in his eyes made my breath catch. A fierce seriousness that almost bordered on possessive. But it was there and gone too fast to be sure. “If you get yourself killed, how will I see if we’re compatible?”

Thankfully, serious never lasted long with Chase.

He leaned forward like he was going to kiss me. I threw up my hands. “No way. Don’t go there.” I pulled away and swung my foot from the car.

Chase fell back against the seat, frowning. “Stop.” He sighed. “Please.”

I don’t know why, but I did. Maybe it was his tone. Three parts apologetic and one part commanding.

“You’re seriously bludgeoning my ego here.” His lips slipped into a grin. “Usually I’m fairly irresistible. I’m even thinking about having my tongue insured.”

I didn’t know whether to be upset or angry. “Where is this coming from? That kiss at the diner was a joke. For Jax’s benefit. Right…?”

“It’s my brother, isn’t it?” Something dark settled on his face and he narrowed his eyes. One of the biggest differences between the Flynn boys was temperament. Jax was always dark and sarcastic. Chase, on the other hand, bounced back and forth on the tip of a pin. One second he was laughing, the next he was spitting poison. I was used to it, but it still unnerved me sometimes.

I wanted to deny it, but the words stuck in my throat. Why did he even need to ask? He watched us growing up. A thing like that didn’t just go away. It was sad, and probably a little pathetic, but if even if Jax never came around, he’d always be the one.

Chase sighed and pounded a fist against the dash as some of the tension left his body. “I’m not into you. Not really.” He threw up his hands. “Not that you’re not amazing or anything. I just—I know you and Jax have some pretty intense, screwed-up history. I thought maybe…” He twisted back so he was staring out the window. His right hand tapped the wheel to an uneven rhythm as he let his head tilt back against the seat. “I hate myself—like, really hate myself—for saying this, but he’s got…problems. I’ve seen firsthand what he’s capable of when he’s angry. It’s not pretty.”

A small part of me wondered if any part of what he was saying came from real concern or was strictly out of jealousy. Because that’s what this was. Jealousy. He wanted me because his brother was back in town. That was it. When Jax was gone again, things would go back to normal. He’d done it when we were young, too. Vied for my attention, then as soon as he got it and Jax wasn’t looking, he was off and running after some new, shiny thing.

I couldn’t help the defensive chill that crept into my voice. “You forget that we grew up together. I know all about his issues.”

“No. I really don’t think you do.” When he turned I could see it. Plain as pie, in his eyes. Sadness and something else. A secret. There was definitely something he wasn’t saying, and a part of him seemed…happy about it? No. That couldn’t be right. Chase could be a bastard, but he wasn’t outwardly cruel.

“Maybe not, but maybe I don’t need to.” I thought of all the rumors flying around town. Rumors I knew for a fact were 100 percent bullshit. Everything from blaming him for the fire that burned down the Harlow mall several years ago—when he wasn’t even here—to insane whispers that he was the Gentleman Stalker. “I know you love your brother, Chase, but sometimes I think you’re just as blind as the rest of the town.”

That seemed to surprise him. He pulled back, brows high, and shook his head. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Everyone has Jax pegged as the bastard while you walk around with your head held high.” I could see the hurt in his eyes and that wasn’t my intention, but he needed a dose of truth. Maybe it was the recent brushes with death, but it felt like the truth didn’t get enough attention around here and it pissed me off. I reached around and popped open the door. “You’re not a bad guy, but you’re not perfect. Just like Jax isn’t a perfect guy. Maybe he just needs the people he loves to have some faith in him.”

Chapter Eleven

Jax

I strode down Sixth Street, coat blowing behind in the gusty wind. I was doing my best to ignore the painful pressure in my muscles and the ache that came with it. When the demon didn’t get what it wanted, it made things difficult. When the need became too much, usually I’d stalk the streets looking for a fight. I kept to the seedier parts of town, which generally made it easy to find some deserving bastard to unload on.

Unfortunately, Harlow was a small place. Everyone knew everyone else. I wasn’t eager to go kicking the crap out of people. I’d been taking little bits from random sources. A portion of anger here, a nibble of sadness there. Soon though, the demon wouldn’t give me any choice. The longer I went without feeding it, the stronger it got. Backward if you asked me. The damn thing should get weaker when denied its twisted little snack.

I’d barely roughed up the demon on the cliff, and never even got to take a swing at the other—not that I had any idea what would have happened. I’d never fed on another demon before. Didn’t even know if it was possible.

The sooner I got this wrapped up the better. Being in such close proximity to Chase was bad for everyone’s health.

Then there was Sam. While the demon forced gruesome scenes on repeat inside my head, I could only focus on her. On what had happened tonight.

On what I’d done.

The demon had never spoken to anyone while in control. Tonight, watching it approach her, hearing it say her name, terrified me. How the fuck was I going to explain everything?

After I left home Sam moved on with her life. School, a job, other boyfriends. It was hard to watch—and I did—but it was the only way to keep her safe from my world. I kept tabs on her every step of the way, dropping in and secretly stealing glimpses just to be sure she was safe and happy. I’d always felt like a bastard for doing it. Like some sick creeper stalking the one thing I knew I could never have. Until the night of the party.

Really, after what happened to her parents, her reaction of leaving school after the attack was understandable. They were killed in a home invasion. She’d seen the whole thing from the closet in her parent’s bedroom. The kicker was, it had been the bastard’s second attempt. The first time, Mr. Merrick was able to scare him off and call the police. The second time around, he hadn’t been so lucky.

Now with multiple attempts on her own life I couldn’t imagine what Sam was going through. And she didn’t even know the half of it. The demons on the cliff had thrown me. Was the person who attacked her at school a demon? I wasn’t sure how I could have missed it. I’d been right there and would have smelled the thing on her for sure.

In places like the club it was much harder to zero in on a specific source. All those people crammed into one place was like a traffic jam of emotion, all knotted together. But out in the open air, it’d be hard to miss. Still, it was the only explanation.

Demons didn’t mix well with humans. There was little chance that a human stalker had contracted demonic hit men to off a single girl. Most people had no idea they even existed. I’d been so preoccupied with the attack that the fact it’d been perpetrated by a demon had totally slipped past me. That was the only other possibility.

The big question now was, could I take care of it without having to tell Sam the truth? Like the rest of the world, she had no idea these things existed. I wanted to keep it that way.