ETHAN
I wishedI could have put the bullet in Giovanni’s gut instead of the poacher’s head. This was a mess. I’d thought the chances of running into poachers were unlikely, but I had the worst fucking luck on missions.
The Land Cruiser hadn’t yet come to a stop as Olivia jumped out and headed off, presumably for her room.
“Go take care of her,” Giovanni said.
I nearly stopped breathing. Another kill order? The poacher I’d done to speed the death along, as Gio’s shot had been fatal. But this?
Never.
“No,” Giovanni continued, understanding the hesitation. “Make sure she’s not going to do something stupid.”As in alert the authorities.
I was certain my face didn’t show an ounce of what I was feeling on the inside. I climbed out of the truck and followed her, thankful he was gone from my sight, even though it was in direct conflict of my mission. A pair of gray monkeys skittered across my path and darted up a tree, calling to me when I knocked on her door.
She didn’t answer.
I wondered if I was going to have to pick the simple lock, but then soft footsteps thumped closer and she came into view, less than pleased when she saw who it was.
“What is it?” She only cracked it a few inches, like the simple glass door would be able to stop me if I wanted to get into her room.
“I need to know if you’re all right.”
She didn’t look like she’d been crying. She looked... the same. Maybe more wary of me, but that was a good thing. The weird unease in me grew. She hadn’t fallen apart.
“I’m not the one who just killed somebody, so maybe I should be asking you that.”
I couldn’t help the sarcasm. “You’re worried about me?”
“No, I guess not. You seem rather comfortable with what went down.”
It shouldn’t have bothered me, but it did. I didn’t want her thinking I was a coldblooded killer, even though that was often the role I played.
“I didn’t draw my gun until I had no other choice. Giovanni’s shot hit the poacher in the chest. A punctured lung or worse. That man was in for a very slow, very painful death.” Her lack of response forced me to be direct. “Are we going to run into issues about this?”
Her face turned to ice. “No. I won’t cause problems for you.”
“Good. I know what I said, but don’t come to dinner tonight. Giovanni is dangerous, and you need to stay away.”
I didn’t bother to be polite or say goodbye. Instead, I left her standing in her doorway, thinking I’d just threatened her. But I’d taken off because she’d unknowingly lied to me. Her green eyes and smart mouth were already causing me a mountain’s worth of problems.
If she wasn’t around, maybe I had a hope of focusing on what I’d come here to do.
Thank fuck she listened.
“Where is she?” Giovanni asked, watching the path, waiting for Olivia.
“She didn’t look too good. She might have gotten sick,” I lied.
He waved the statement away. “She’ll be all right.”
It was surprising that she had seemed all right. No screams, no tears. I’d seen plenty over the years to recognize her reaction was different. The shooting had been traumatic, but not traumatizing for her.
Had she seen death up close before?
I reminded myself of my objective for the millionth time. Giovanni had yet to meet with anyone, or discuss times and locations, but the logical voice in my head would not be quiet. I needed to stick closer to him and stay far away from her.
It didn’t fucking help that the Italian man’s gaze was permanently fixed in the direction of her cabin. He salivated like a dog after a bone.
