Free The Dead List by Jennifer L. Armentrout Page A

lowered. I could almost feel my toes slipping through the grass and the dirt. “But he caught me again.”
    “Is that how this happened?” he asked, and when I must’ve given him a huh look, he twisted his hand, barely brushing his thumb under the scratches on my palm. They ached from how tight I’d been holding the keys. “And this?” With his other hand, he trailed his fingers under the mark on my cheek.
    The soft whisper of his touch rattled me. My breath was coming in and out a little too fast. “Yes, but… but you can teach me where to hit. You can teach me how to fight.”
    His fingers drifted off my cheek. “I can.”
    “Then teach me.”
    He shook his head. “You need to know how to get away—”
    “I already told you that I got away, but he caught me. I don’t want to know how to run. I want to know what to do when I get caught. Okay?” I swallowed the sudden burn of tears. “I don’t need to know how to run.”
    “I know you know how to run. If I remember correctly, you could run fast.” His eyes searched mine. “Why aren’t you on track or cross country like you planned?”
    The question caught me off guard. “I don’t run anymore.”
    He blinked. “What? You loved—”
    “I just don’t do it anymore. I… I got bored with it.” Frustration rose. “I want to learn to fight, Jensen. That’s why I’m here.”
    His brows knitted as he stared down at me. He didn’t respond for a long moment and then said, “I get it. I do, Ella.”
    I let out a shaky breath. “Thank you.”
    Jensen’s lips split into a real smile, reaching his eyes, and I was a little awed by that. It had been far too long since I’d been on the receiving end of a Jensen Carver smile. “Against my better judgment I can teach you how to fight, but not tonight. It’s getting late.”
    I hadn’t even thought of the time.
    Jensen hadn’t moved. Neither had I. And our chests were still getting to know each other, and if I stretched up on the tips of my toes, my lips would meet his, but that would be wrong. All kinds of wrong.
    I just couldn’t remember exactly why that would be a bad idea.
    “I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, breaking the silence.
    My fingers curled inward. “I’m… I’m glad you were there.”
    His eyes met mine and then flitted away. “Yeah, me too.”
    Jensen let go and backed off, thrusting his hand through his hair. “That’s enough for tonight.”
    The sudden change was like walking into a freezer. I turned, picking up my phone and collecting my useless brain cells. “So, how much do I owe you for this…?”
    He shook his head as he strode past me. “You don’t owe me anything.”
    “But I need to pay you for this. I don’t have a lot, but—”
    “I’m not taking your money,” he interrupted, reaching the door. Holding it open, he motioned me forward. “Come on. I’ve got to turn the lights off.”
    I didn’t like the idea of not paying him, but I could see I wasn’t going to win this argument right now. I let him usher me outside, and as he locked up the room, I realized his intentions. “You don’t need to walk me to my car.”
    He fell in step beside me, which meant he was slowing down his long-legged pace. “But what if a bug jumps out and tries to bug molest you again?”
    The teasing tone tugged at my lips. “What? Do you make it a habit of rescuing damsels in distress from bugs?”
    “Only from stinkbugs,” he said, staying with me as we hit the driveway leading to the small lot. “And only pretty girls.”
    I tripped as I looked at him sharply. “Don’t say that.”
    His brows knitted. “Why not?”
    There was a multitude of reasons. “Just don’t.”
    He was quiet as we continued down the dimly lit hall. Grunts echoed from the closed doors surrounding us. “Should I not compliment you? Would you prefer that I insult you?”
    A laugh escaped me. His tone was light, still teasing. “How about you just stay… I don’t know, real with