Never Kiss a Bad Boy by Nora Flite Read Free Book Online Page A

did.” Hesitating, Kite stared at me in our private bubble and frowned. “Or they never did... until you.”
    Bile flooded my mouth. Is this story a warning? Is he threatening me, letting me know he could make me disappear? It was a horrific thought.
    Shrugging, Kite leaned back and took out his keys. “I'm sure that was disturbing, but you needed to hear the reality. We fuck up and it's ugly. Melting a body and—”
    “What happened next?” I asked.
    He paused, eyes shadowed and suspicious. “Next?”
    “The remains, where did you put them?” Call me twisted, I just needed to know what had happened to Culver. The idea they had a barrel of corpse juice hanging around was too much.
    Kite unlocked the doors; the noise made me jump. “You shouldn't want to know the grizzly details.”
    If we left that car, he would never answer me.
    “Please,” I said, grabbing for his elbow. His skin was smooth, and too warm for a cold monster. His eyes opened a fraction wider, and I pulled away nervously.
    “You really want to know?” he asked.
    I considered my answer. “I think I have to.”
    Kite closed his eyes. His cool mask had returned. “The ocean. We poured him out into the ocean.” He opened the door and let the brisk air inside the car.
    Stepping from the car, I begged my legs to stop wobbling.
    The parking lot was cracked, the staircase up to my door no better. I'd warned him, my complex was essentially a revamped motel.
    Twisting my key in the lock, I jiggled the handle. Nothing happened. Peering up at Kite, I flashed an embarrassed smile. “One second, it likes to—” I jerked it, grunting. “Jam. Ugh.”
    Yanking the handle, I finally pushed the door open and breathed a sigh of relief. Clicking on the light, the small room was bathed in all its glory.
    I'd left piles of newspapers on the couch, magazines and printed articles. Kite only had to glance at them to realize most had to do with Frank's murder.
    He followed me in, hands deep in his pockets. I hadn't left the heat on while I was out, it was... expensive to run it all the time.
    Eyeing him, I tried to tell if he was cold—I certainly was, and I had on a thick sweater. Kite was wearing nothing but a tan, short sleeved top that showed off his biceps and defined forearms. Had he left his jacket at the bar in his haste to get out of there with me?
    The hitman shut the door with his hip. Watching him close us into a small space had my blood chilling.
    Stop worrying, I told myself. If he was going to kill you, he wouldn't have taken you back here to do it. His story about the barrel had rattled my stomach. Following my own logic was a chore.
    “Don't take too much,” he said. “You can come back another time for the rest.”
    Stepping over a pile of clothes, I scooped up a duffel bag. “You're serious about me moving out of here.”
    “Yeah, very serious.”
    “No, I mean... I have a lot of stuff.” Glancing at him, I stuffed some clean jeans into my bag. “You should realize how much work it'll be getting it all out, storing it, that kind of thing. It's no joke to move so quickly.”
    Kite graced me with a sly smile. “It won't be a problem.”
    Not prying into his cryptic confidence, I moved towards my bathroom. He said not to take much, so I wouldn't. A toothbrush, some toiletries, I filled my bag like I was having a sleepover. “So which apartment am I staying in?” I called out. “Yours or Jacob's?”
    Stepping into the main room, I spotted Kite bending over my couch. He was toeing aside some papers with the tip of his shoe. The instant he saw me watching, he stopped. “I offered mine up. If you hate it, Jacob will probably let you switch.”
    “Probably?” I asked.
    He shrugged lazily. “The guy can be weird about his personal space.”
    Crossing to the kitchen, I said, “If he's weird, I guess that makes you the polite one.”
    “No. It makes me the most paranoid.”
    I felt him burning holes into the back of my skull. Opening a