Kick The Candle (Knight Games) by Genevieve Jack Page A

his therapy, while Sally cheerily guided us. When we were done, I pretended to help him to his truck.
    “This is the last time I’m doing this,” I said. “It’s a lie. As much as I believe Sally enjoys working with you, it’s practically insurance fraud.”
    “Yeah, I thought so.” With speed and agility, he dropped my hand, pulled open the door to his black, half-ton pickup, and propelled himself into the driver’s seat. He tossed me the cane. “So, ah, since I’m not going to see you for the next appointment, can you come to my welcome back party at Valentine’s next Saturday?”
    “Should I just forgive your dishonesty and unctuous secondhand invite?”
    The charmer he beamed my way should’ve been illegal. It actually made my knees buckle. I had to use the cane. “Yes, you should, because if there’s anyone in this world who understands the extenuating circumstances, it’s you.” One green eye winked at me. Jesus, he actually winked!
    I groaned. “Okay, I’ll see you then. But you owe me a drink.”
    “Excellent. See you then.”
    Before I could say anything else, he backed out of the parking space and was gone. I tossed his cane in the dumpster. Things needed to change. It was inevitable. What I needed to figure out was how much… and how fast.

Chapter 7
Stupid Gary

    A fter a rough night of tossing and turning, I put in a twelve-hour shift at St. John’s. I’d been transferred from the ICU to the ER, a move I liked because my day usually rushed by, allowing no time for my brain to taunt me with its unanswered questions. But today, even though I’d been off of witchy duty the night before, I was dragging, and a cup of tar-thick cafeteria coffee didn’t seem to help.
    Over my break, I texted Michelle.
     
    Valentine’s next Saturday. This isn’t a request. You’re going with me.
     
    Like I’d miss the drama.
     
    What drama?
     
    Watching you interact with Logan should be interesting.
     
    No doubt you plan to analyze my interactions and report back to me on my repressed feelings.
     
    U bet.
     
    Oy. Not repressing! I made a choice.
     
    Hmm .
     
    We can talk about this then.
     
    Looking forward to it.
     
    At the end of my shift, I drove home on autopilot. I had to get some sleep tonight. Besides worrying about the house, the dead finfolk in the alley, Rick, and Logan, tomorrow was Thanksgiving, just a month until Christmas. I didn’t even have a tree to put up, let alone any shopping done.
    The driveway was dark as I pulled in, the new moon doing nothing to help break the bleak night. Distracted as I was with my problems, I almost plowed into the silhouette of a man standing in front of my garage door. Luckily, the reflective glint of my headlights off his inhuman eyes came in time for me to slam on the brakes.
    Vampire. Nightshade was in the attic, but I grabbed the shovel I kept in the back of the Jeep in case of snow emergencies. Faster than humanly possible, I was out of the car and had the vamp thrust against the garage door with the edge pressed into his jugular. That’s when I saw who it was, my ex-boyfriend turned vampire.
    “Gary.”
    “Uh, hi Grateful.”
    I pressed a little harder on the shovel.
    “What are you doing here?”
    He held up a large dufflebag. “I have your money. With interest.”
    I searched his face for any sign of threat or insincerity but his fangs were retracted and his eyes, although slightly nocturnal looking, were without guile. I lowered the shovel and grabbed the bag. Damn! It was heavy. I unzipped the top and my heart started to pound. It was filled with bricks of twenty-dollar bills. The satchel thumped to the pavement and I investigated further, flipping the bills through my icy cold fingers. Each brick had ten bills, $200, stacked twenty high and fifteen wide. $60,000. I licked my lips. This would get me out of debt and provide a small down payment; I might be able to qualify for a loan to buy my house.
    “Are these real?” I asked