Free Fury’s Kiss by Nicola R. White Page B

around my waist defensively. “Why don’t you just get lost and we’ll forget this ever happened?”
    I was beginning to suspect my crazy, irresistible attraction to him had something to do with the Fury in my head, but the charge was gone for now. Chased away by my flashback, and I had more urgent things to think about.
    Like how to deal with the guy in the bathroom.
    I couldn’t stop myself from glancing over at the door and Jackson’s eyes followed mine.
    “You’re hiding something.”
    “No, I’m not.” I spoke too quickly, giving myself away.
    “Yes. You are. This room’s a mess, there’s blood on your clothes, and what just happened between us…” He pushed past me with a shake of his head and headed for the bathroom door. “I guess you think all men are the same, huh? You distract me from whatever you’re hiding in here by letting me feel you up, and I’m supposed to go on my merry way?”
    Damn it. For a man who claimed he wanted nothing more than to be rid of me, he had a real tendency not to leave well enough alone.
    “That doesn’t even make sense,” I argued, shifting to block his path. “If I was throwing myself at you to get rid of you, why would I have broken it off like that? Why wouldn’t I just convince you to meet me somewhere more…” I surveyed the broken furniture and tacky décor. “I don’t know, more romantic. Sexier. Somewhere that isn’t here.”
    His mouth twisted in disgust as he looked down at me. “Save it. I lied to the police for Nora’s sake, not yours. She vouched for you, swore whatever happened at Spyder’s last night couldn’t have been your fault. Said she trusted you.”
    He reached for the door, then paused. “What do you think will happen if whatever you’re involved in blows up and the cops find out Nora knew something and didn’t come clean? If Social Services gets wind of Nora filing a false report?”
    When I had no answer, he went on. “I’ll paint you a picture. Single mother, works full-time at a bar, gets caught lying to police. You think they’d be very sympathetic?” He shook his head. “Whatever you’re hiding in there, I’m calling it in before you dig Nora and Ruby in any deeper.”
    “It’s not like that!” I grabbed his arm, but part of me knew he was right. I’d been so concerned with my own drama—not that it was insubstantial—I hadn’t even considered how much he and Nora risked to help me.
    “Then tell me what it’s like. The truth, this time.”
    “Well, I’m not a hooker, for one thing.”
    He raised an eyebrow, waited.
    I sighed and stepped out of the way. “Before you freak out, at least let me explain,” I said as he opened the door.
    Jackson stood still and surveyed the glass and blood all over the room. The injured man in the bathtub. It looked bad.
    Really bad.
    Jackson looked warily from the prone figure back to me. “You’d better start at the beginning.” He kept his face carefully neutral, his thoughts indecipherable.
    I told him what Miller had tried to do to me and how I escaped, though I glossed over the part where I’d fought him off. I could accept Nora’s assurance that Jackson wouldn’t narc on me for acting in self-defense, but I wasn’t willing to trust him with the more…supernatural details.
    While I talked, his eyebrows lifted slightly and his head tilted forward just a little. “That’s some story.”
    He eased back toward the door, and I realized he didn’t believe a word of it. Not that I could blame him. He’d seen Miller’s body with his own eyes, and what I’d left behind had barely resembled the man it had once been.
    “There’s more.” I picked up the photos I’d found and handed them over.
    He flipped through them. “What are these supposed to be?”
    “I found them in this room.” I grabbed the photos back and riffled through them until I came to one in which I was clearly identifiable. I handed it back.
    He looked from the photo to me, and back again.