Page 11 of The King's Pawn

“Go inside, I’ll finish up.”

Alone? Like I could be trusted not to run? “You sure?”

He grunted something as he climbed out of the hole and grabbed the dead guy’s ankles. I glanced at the cabin, pining after the warmth of the fireplace, but also, I’d helped some, and the deal was he’d untie me if I helped bury the body. Whatever he thought of me, I kept my word.

We dumped Garren Reed in the hole, and together, shovel by shovel, we filled in the grave, covering the newly disturbed earth with crates. Nobody would find him, if anyone bothered to search.

“Nice work,” Killian said, brushing clumps of dirt from his hands.

Was it weird, how we both stood over a grave, muddy, half smiling as the snow fell around us, and I liked it? Liked it a lot. Like… fuck, what was going on here? And how come Killian wasn’t growling and shoving me around? How come he hadn’t pulled a gun and shot me?

Why wasn’t I in that grave?

Was it stupid to think Killian didn’t want me dead because he cared? Like nobody had ever cared for me before?

CHAPTER

FIVE

Killian

Noah wasn’t as useless as he made himself out to be. He’d strangled a man while tied up, and he’d been more than capable of digging a grave without breaking down or complaining about his shirt—now covered in bloodandmud.

“You uh, you should get cleaned up,” I suggested, shutting the cabin door and sealing us back inside the warmth.

He looked down at himself, winced at the mud and snow clinging to his legs, and shrugged off the big coat. “Right.” He kicked off his boots and headed for the bathroom.

The cabin had a small shower. If it worked, the water was probably cold. A few minutes later, I heard the hiss of water, and Noah’s yelp. The cold must have cleared though, since Noah started humming a few minutes later. Always talking, humming, moving, making noise—he didn’t know when to sit still andlisten.

I cleaned the blood off the living room floor, rearranged the furniture over the stains, and stacked the fire with fresh logs. As I was adding the last log, Noah started to sing. I didn’t know thetune, but his voice carried the sentiment well, adding his own flare. Emotion warmed the notes. He was… good. Really good.

I hadn’t known he could sing.

What the fuck was I doing, listening to the boss’s son singing in the shower like this was some kind of vacation in the woods?

I needed to get my shit together. If I wasn’t killing him, what was I doing with him?

My phone rang. I picked it up from the kitchen counter and winced at the caller’s name.

“Where are you?” Noah’s father asked, voice grating.

“Cleanup.” I parted the drapes behind the kitchen sink. Big snowflakes buffeted the window. “Snow’s coming down hard. I’ll wait it out. Be back in a few days.”

Val’s heavy sigh made his irritation clear. “There’s a situation. We need you here.”

I’d have replied, but Noah appeared, a tiny towel wrapped around his slim waist. He used another to ruffle his hair. Water droplets glittered across his skin. He grinned, and as his whole face lit up, a sudden bolt of lust almost dropped me to my knees.

“Killian?” Val growled.

“Yes, I will.” I turned away from Noah and ended the call fast. If Val learned he was alive, we were both dead. Fuck, this wouldn’t do. I tossed the phone on the counter, beside the bag of groceries, and braced against the counter’s edge.

Shit. I hadn’t expected him to appear nearly naked, hadn’t guarded against it.

The grocery bag rustled. “What the hell kind of supplies are these? Beans and beer?” He snorted. “At least you’re on brand. Did you get any actual food?”

“Put some fuckin’ clothes on.”

“Can’t.” He tossed a can of soup in the air. “Washed them. They’re hanging up in the bathroom.”