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“The war? Or after?”
He walks out of sight into the bathroom. The faucet turns on and he leans over it to splash water on his face. My gut twinges with curiosity.
Christ, what happened to him out there?
When he stands up, he notices me hovering over him like a gnat. He grabs a hand towel off the wall and pats his face dry.
“After,” he simply says.
I nod, silently wondering if I even want to know more than that. I have so many questions, obviously, but I have to consider the possibility that those questions should never be answered.
“How did I do?” I ask, gesturing to my new hair.
“It’s fine,” he asks, dropping the towel.
“Just fine?”
“You know what I mean, Dani. You look good.”
He bolts straight for the mini-fridge again and grabs the last tiny bottle stashed inside without bothering to look at what it is.
“Okay…” I say. “What now?”
“Now…” He pours the entire bottle down his throat as if he’s putting out a fire. “Now, we get out of town.”
“Right now?”
“Yes,” he answers, tossing the empty bottle into the trash.
“It’s three in the morning.” I point to the clock on the bed.
He reaches for his jacket hanging on the back of the door. “You can sleep in the car.”
“Fox, please,” I beg. “Can’t we just stay here for a few hours? I’ve had a pretty rough night… and you’ve been drinking. Are you even good to drive?”
His fingers twitch on his jacket and he casts a sideways glance at me. He’s probably more than okay to drive, honestly, but with those circles under his eyes, I’d rather him get a little more rest.
“Fine,” he finally says. “But only a few hours, okay?”
I nod as I run my fingers through my hair. It still feels so foreign and smooth, like it’s not even mine. I catch him staring. He quickly turns away.
“Where are we going in the morning?” I ask.
He hesitates. “When I escaped Snake Eyes, I took something with me.”
I sit down on the bed. “You escaped?”
“I worked on Mercer’s squad for about a year and a half before I found a way out. It wasn’t easy and I almost got killed in the process…”
“What happened?” I ask.
“I was sent on a solo mission to take out a Russian mobster,” he begins. I lean back against the headboard and pull the blanket out from under me to drape across my feet. He watches but pretends not to. “In and out, should have been easy for me — and it would have been, but I had other plans. Before I left, I accessed Snake Eyes’ network and made two copies of their master file.”
“Master file?”
“It’s a list of all assignments given out to members and how much money exchanged hands. We’re talking decades of names, unsolved cases, and executions big and small. Billions of dollars in trade.”
“And you have that?”
