Page 113 of The Night Shift


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He lightly grips her fingers, spinning her so that her back is facing me. His hands settle on her back, holding her closer than seems necessary. He’s taller, so she has to tilt her chin up to meet his gaze. She wraps her arms around his neck, and they begin swaying to the rhythm of the music, moving together effortlessly.

My lips press into a tight line, and I take a sip of my drink. Then another. And another until it’s nothing but olives. I set the glass down.

Theo’s hands slide down the brunette’s waist, and it’s almost as if I can feel the heat of his touch on my own skin. I can feel the tension in my hands, my fingers curling into fists at my sides. When his hands reach her bare thighs, I feel my own legs tense involuntarily, heat building in places I don’t want to acknowledge. My nails dig into my palm so hard, they draw blood.

I force myself to look away. I signal for another drink. My nails tap impatiently against the countertop. The bartender slides my drink across the counter, and I reach for it, taking a slow sip, forcing my attention on the glass and nothing else. But the burn of the gin does nothing to dull this…otherfeeling burning in my chest. And then, like a magnet, my eyes are pulled back to the dance floor.

Theo glances at me over her shoulder. Eyes still on me, he sweeps the brunette’s hair to a side and then presses his lips to the side of her neck, his gaze never leaving mine. My whole body goes rigid. The cool air feels like a shock against my skin, and for a second, it’s like I can’t breathe properly.

I clench my glass so hard, my knuckles ache.

The way his lips touch her skin — it’s like I can feel it on my own neck, the phantom sensation sending a tremor down my spine. There are goosebumps all over my body. My pulse quickens, my skin tightening, every nervealive. I am practicallytingling. Buzzing. Like something important is happening. Something inevitable. Something awful that can’t be stopped. And then, because I’m an even bigger idiot, my hand lifts of its own accord, and touches the exact spot he’s kissing onherbody.

Lips still glued to her fucking neck, Theo smiles.

Heat rushes to my cheeks.

My hand drops and I force myself to look away. For good this time.

What the fuck iswrongwith me? Why is this bothering me so much? It’s just a dance! And even if it wasn’t, I’m supposed to detest Theo Carter — Idodetest him. Not only is that man a constant pain in my ass, but he is also my fucking stalker! And I hate that I have to constantly remind myself of the fact as though if that weren’t the case, my feelings for Theo would be any different. They wouldn’t, just to be clear. He’s arrogant and selfish and an expert manipulator. He has no respect for someone else’s boundaries. He’s broken into my apartment multiple times, he’s watched me sleep, he’s seen me kill people — hell, he's even lied to the cops for me! Just because he’s tall and has a freakishly perfect jawline doesn’t negate any of his bad qualities. He’s basically a seasoned criminal himself. And Iwillnot be the kind of girl who associates herself with a criminal. I have a hundred other things to worry about. Things that actuallyneedworrying about. Theo is not a part of that list. He is irrelevant to me.

But what if he’s also the only person in this world who can touch you without making you flinch, the insidious voice in my head taunts.You want him to do it again.

No!I shake my head.No, I don’t!

Chugging the remainder of my drink, I lean against the bar.

If he wants to dance or make out with someone on the dance floor, he’s more than welcome to do so. Not that I want to see him make out with someone. That’s gross. And weird. I don’t care what he does. Or who he does it with. Why would I care? It’s not like I’m keeping tabs on him or anything. That’s whathedoes. That’shisjob.

If anything, I should be thrilled he’s found someone else to annoy.I should be relieved and ecstatic that I won’t have to waste any more energy deciding where and how to stab him again.

But I’m not ecstatic. I’m irritated.

My eyes roam the crowd for someone — anyone — I could dance with, too. If it’s a game Theo wants, then it’s a game he’s going to get.

But there’s no one around. No one eligible, that is. I spot that man from earlier, Finn Asher. He’s standing at the far end of the room engaged in a heated conversation with a tall dark-haired woman who seems to be dressed as a Greek goddess. I can’t see her face, but judging by the strands of pearls dripping down her arms, she’s probably Aphrodite? I don’t know.

I glance away, a flicker of frustration rising in my chest. I don’t want to dance with anyone else. I don’t want to feel some stranger’s hands roaming over my body, touching me like they have any right. It makes my stomach twist. My skin feels too tight at just the idea. Disgust that I feel the need to prove some fucked-up point to Theo. Guilt that I can’t do so because I can’t even stomach a stranger’s touch, that I won’t even let myself try. And yet…

My eyes drift back to the fucking dance floor.

Yet the idea of standing here, doing nothing, watchinghimwith her, feels even worse. I don’t understand this feeling, nor do I like it.

The woman keeps her arms looped around his neck. His hands stay tight around her waist. He leans down to whisper something in her ear, and she tosses her head back, laughing.

What the fuck is she even laughing about? Theo isn’t funny.

The song changes and they keep swaying to the music. Midway during the second song, his eyes meet mine over her shoulder again. He tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear. An unspoken sensation tightens in my chest. A new murderous urge. I just don’t know for whom.

My jaw tightens. I take out my phone, forcing myself to focus on literallyanythingelse.

The song changes, the tempo more upbeat this time. The brunette leans in to kiss him on the cheek, though I barely even notice. I order a tequila shot and down it in one go. The liquid burns all the way down, a fiery trail of heat that coats my throat and spreads through my chest. Sharp and slow. But I don’t wince.

Instead, I wait for the woman to finally peel herself off Theo’s body. I set the empty shot glass down with a quiet clink and push my way through the crowd, following her to the washroom, my hand already reaching for the scalpel strapped to my thigh.

Chapter 21

Theo