Kill Switch by Penelope Douglas

For someone so smart, she was good at stupid. I was the
last person Will wanted or needed help from.
She paused a moment, as if waiting for me to say
something or still holding out hope maybe, but then finally
turned around and headed her ass for the door.
But something caught her eye, and she stopped, lifting up a
small black box off the sofa table and inspecting the contents.
My heart thudded a beat, recognizing what she was
holding. I clenched my teeth so hard my jaw ached, and then I
was up, dropping my cigarette into the ashtray and charging
toward her.
Ripping the box out of her hands, I slammed it close,
hearing the contents jingle inside as I tossed it on the sofa
again, and then grabbed her collar, backing her up into the
wall.
Her blue eyes glared up at me, all tough and ready, but her
little panting gave away the small amount of fear she still held
of me.
“Keep me in this perspective.” I stared down, towering
over her. “At any time I could snap you in half and shut you up
for good. You need me. I don’t need you. We’re not friends.”
Stay out of my place. Stay out of my shit. No more chitchat.
“GGlad you know that,” she replied, her voice surprisingly
steady.
I released her and turned, going back to the sofa, tucking
the contents of the box back in, and fastening the latch. I’d
cleared some stuff out of my father’s house and brought it in
for the driver to take to my apartment at Delcour tonight.
“I look like her.” I heard Rika say. “Don’t I? That’s why
you’ve always hated me.”
I hesitated.
Like her. Like Winter.