Devil You Know(Lost Boys Book 1)(75)

“What the hell are you doing, having an orgy?”

“Only you, Kimber, would hear the surgical and precise sounds of a master taking out a zombie horde and mistake it for a sex fest. What’s up?”

“Just called to see how you were doing.”

“Why? What did you hear?”

“You are paranoid.”

“No, I’m not. Someone got to you. Who? Mom?”

“She was worried, she hasn’t heard from you in a few days.”

“I’m fine, just releasing some tension by killing the undead. It’s very therapeutic. You should try it.”

“Nah, I like my method of relieving tension.”

I was only half listening, so I walked right into it when I asked, “What’s your method?”

“Sex and lots of it.”

“Right.”

“Let’s get together for dinner.”

“Sounds good. How about here on Friday.”

“I’ll call Ryder.”

“Thanks, Kimber, for checking in on me.”

“That’s what friends are for. See you on Friday. Have fun with your brain eating friends.”

The knock at the door came about two hours later and I was still killing those bastards. I hadn’t eaten, except for some pretzels and canned cheese. I had also closed my blinds because the glare from the sun hurt my eyes. I looked like an insane shut-in. I paused the game and checked the door then felt my pulse jump when I saw Damian on the other side.

I yanked it open and he walked in then stopped and just stared. I didn’t doubt I looked slightly wild.

“I’m killing zombies. There’s no room for vanity.”

“Zombies?” There was definite interest in that word.

“Are you a brother in arms? Do you also kill those brain sucking monsters?”

I realized I was talking to someone who probably killed people every day, well not every day because that’s excessive. The deli man didn’t put enough rare roast beef on his sandwich and so he slit his throat with the dagger he had hidden up his sleeve. I giggled at the thought.

Again I saw the humor in his eyes in response to me calling him a brother in arms. I asked, “Do you want to play?”

“Yeah.”

“You do?” And that was said almost identically to how Farmer Ted said it in Sixteen Candles.

“Come on in.”

He strolled into my apartment, shrugged off his leather jacket exposing the black t-shirt that just hugged his body. I wanted to be that t-shirt. I really wanted to be that t-shirt. He was wearing cargo pants and boots, he looked like a zombie killer. He reached for the controller, his arms flexed and I had to bite down on the moan. I wasn’t going to be killing zombies, I was going to be watching him and wishing he were wearing me like he was that t-shirt.

He glanced over, his sign that he was ready, so I grabbed my own remote and started the game. At some point I just stopped playing because the man was…lethal. I realized it was just a game and there were countless people out there, living in the basements of their parents’ home, who could kill as efficiently as Damian. But they were gamers, this man hunted for a living. His skill didn’t come from hours and hours of play. It came from real life. Damian was a lethal weapon. And fear stirred in me thinking about the situations he had been in that turned him into the man he was now. That part of his life was in the past and still it was terrifying to think it could have ended very differently.

I didn’t want to think about that, so I indulged myself a little. My eyes moving over his perfectly sculpted arm, the biceps and triceps, his wide shoulder and the bulging muscles of his middle back that tapered to a flat stomach. I loved the view, but I was getting turned on, so I focused back on the game. He was on a level I had never seen, would never again see without his help. I wasn’t thinking about the game anymore though.

“I’m hungry. Do you want to order a pizza?” It wasn’t pizza I wanted.

“Yeah.”

“Pepperoni and mushroom?” I hadn’t realized his attention had shifted to me, so I was surprised to look over and see him staring. “What?”

He said nothing but there was a softening around his eyes. “Yeah.”

I ordered the pizza and grabbed two beers before settling back on the sofa. Given the situation I found myself in, my thoughts often detoured to Cam’s investigation. “Do you think it was Miguel who killed my dad?”

“It points to him, but the pieces don’t all fit.”

“And so until they do you’ll be looking at other possibilities.”

“It’s what I’m trained for.”

“And we have to be careful of which cops we involve because we aren’t sure who we can trust.”