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“You’ve been shot,” he says, amused. “By the time you reach your brother, it could be infected and dripping with puss and other unsightly fluids.”
“It’s just a graze, Archer.”
“Please.” He gestures to the bench beside him. “You took that bullet saving my ass, it’s the least I can do.”
I sigh, but the logic is sound. “Fine.”
I take a seat again. Archer slips the dress straps down my shoulders. I raise my right arm, instantly struck with more pain than I anticipated. With my jaw held tight, I inhale an extended breath as Archer peels the fabric away from dried blood and torn skin.
He keeps a stern face, but I notice his eyes fall, drifting over my breasts and landing on my tattoo again.
“Is what you said to Enzo true?” I ask, taking any distraction I can.
He grabs the alcohol. “Which part?”
“That you don’t kill.”
“It’s true.”
I shudder as he lays his hands on me. “So, you were never really going after my brothers, too?”
“I was not,” he says, slowly wiping the damp cotton along the wound. My nerves twitch and scream but the pain doesn’t last with his warm touch balancing it out. “He asked me to. I said no, I’m a hunter. Never really been much good at anything else.”
I nod as he lays a bandage in place over my wound.
After a few moments, he takes hold of my wrist and slowly guides my arm down to my side. “Well, you were right. It’s barely even a scratch,” he says, sliding the straps back up. “You should be fine. Just try not to get shot again for a while.”
“I’ll try my best.”
Neither of us moves. We sit still, stuck in an endless loop of awkward glances and denial.
Finally, I snap.
“Why did you come onto me before?”
His eyes widen. “Why did I come onto you?”
“Yes.”
“I believe if you run that instant replay again in your head, you’ll find that you kissed me.”
“That was just supposed to be a distraction...”
He laughs. “Well, it worked.”
“Yeah, no shit.”
“Let’s do it again.”
My jaw drops. “Are you serious?”
“Why not?” He gazes at me with expectation. “Here we are — alone — out in the middle of nowhere. No one will ever know.”
“You do realize that you tried to re-capture me to sell me to the highest bidder, right?”
He shrugs. “So?”
“No.” I shake my head. “I don’t trust you.”
