Something ridiculous unfolds in my mind. Something completely, utterly stupid.
We can’t trust each other. We don’t even like each other. But chemistry? We’ve got plenty—fuck knows why. We’ve got a horrible situation with no solution. Not yet anyway.
I wipe my mouth with a nearby napkin and take another drink of soda to… I don’t know. Fortify myself, I suppose?
Then I take a breath. “I’d like to make a deal.”
9
Notes:
Sorry this chapter is late. Got into it with a big guy who thought he could step on the short girl. Ended up in a holding cell with an eighty-four-year-old sex worker named Madge. They made me take a breathalyzer even though I kept assuring them, “I’m not drunk, I’m just like this.” Upside? Madge had the BEST stories.
Milo
“I’d like to make a deal.”
Rowan’s words send prickles down my neck. Making any kind of deal with him has “bad idea” scrawled across it like lipstick on a mirror. Right now, I’m not in a position to make any promises. Especially not to him.
But like cats the world over, my curiosity will be my downfall. “What’s the deal?”
He licks his lips, and I give in to the urge to follow the path of his tongue with my eyes. Zeroing in on the tip of his tongue and the slick lip left behind.
“You said you only kill people who deserve it. There’s not a single thing I’ve done that would make someone want to kill me.”
“You sure? Plenty of people I’ve met thought a deeply hidden secret would never surface. Or their moral code was fucked. Once I offed a guy who legitimately thought he had a valid excuse for murdering young homeless men. Thought he was saving them.”
“I haven’t killed anyone. I haven’t done anything.” Rowan’s eyes nearly bulge out of his skull. He tugs a little at his own hair. “Look, I was with my ex for the last four years. We agreed—” He shakes his head. “He agreedit would be best if we kept thingsquiet because of his position in the community, blah, blah, et cetera.”
“That sounds…” Manipulative. Gross. I’m guessing Tucker was older, closeted, and in my professional opinion a fucking creep.
Rowan scowls and waves his hand, as if he can wave away what he just told me. “Believe me, I’m not proud of it. That’s not the point. The point is, I was basically like Iggy, just in a bigger tank. I lived in his beach house on Ana Maria Island. I didn’t work because there weren’t a lot of jobs there, and he didn’t want anyone to find out about us, anyway. For that same reason, I didn’t really have friends. I went to a book club once a week at the library. I spent a lot of time on the beach. I read books and bingedGrey’s Anatomyand played video games.”
He pauses, seeming to study my face. For a reaction? For judgment? I do my best to keep it neutral. Of all the things I might want to do here, judging isn’t one of them.
“I cut ties with everyone, Milo. Including my family. At first, because they didn’t approve of the relationship, and later because I was too embarrassed to go back. There’s nothing in the world I could’ve done to make anyone want to kill me, unless it’s Mildred Teller, the librarian, who did in fact threaten to strangle me because I spoiled the ending ofMe Before You.”
“What about your ex? Romantic partners are often the first suspect when someone turns up dead.”
Rowan makes a face like he tasted something awful. “No. No way. In the end, Tucker wasn’t even interested in me anymore. I’m not sure whether or not he cared when I left. I did take most of the shit he gave me. Mostly watches and jewelry. Don’t think a tanzanite ring justifies murder.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Okay. So? Whether you deserve it or not, someone still wants you dead. There was a name and a picture with the job. This wasn’t some accident.”
“Right. Exactly.” Rowan points a finger, nodding enthusiastically as if we’re agreeing on something. Not so sure about that one. “Hence the deal. You said you’d only kill me if you found out there was a good reason. I’m telling you for sure there isn’t one. But someone still wants me dead, so I’m asking you to protect me.”
“Me.” Honestly, I have to laugh. “You’re asking me, the man assigned to kill you, to keep you safe.”
“You’ve already done it once.”
And that decision’s just the gift that keeps on giving, isn’t it?
“So you want me to keep you in exchange for what?” But I already know, don’t I? He basically said it already. “You’re back to bargaining with your body? Did what I said earlier go in one ear and immediately out the other?”
He shrugs, suddenly rubbing the toe of one sneaker against the floor as if he’s feeling, what, shy? “Sounds bad when you put it that way.”
“How else should I put it? You’re offering to let me fuck you for protection.”
“It’s not so strange. Not around here, at least. If people didn’t trade their bodies as a commodity, I wouldn’t have a job.”
