“You don’t need to be embarrassed, and you’re not going to die. I’ll keep you safe until we get this all sorted out.”
My eyes dart to him. “You’re pretty cocky about your abilities, aren’t you?”
“Not cocky.” His lips lift. “Confident. You just need to trust me.”
“Trust you!” I scoff. “I don’t even know who you are.”
“You know who I am.” He shrugs. “Park Bradshaw.”
“Is that your real name?”
“Yes.”
“Are you really from New Jersey?”
“Yes, but I don’t live in Chicago.”
I can live with that change.
“Did you go to college?”
He laughs to himself.
“What’s so funny?” I demand.
“I didn’t go to college, but let’s just say I studied and trained for many years.”
I lean forward, intrigued. “Like what kind of training?”
“That’s classified.”
“I love classified.”
His smile grows. “I’m sure you do.”
“What kind of things do you spy on?”
“I do more than spy on people.”
“So you’re a hitman?”
His brows drop. “That makes it sound like I kill people for a living.”
“Don’t you?”
“Not always.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” I say sarcastically. “Do you know martial arts?”
“Yes.”
“How to dismantle a bomb?”
“Yes.”
“How to jump out of an airplane without a parachute and not die?”
“Um,” his brows drop, “no.”
