“You’re also really bad at being a murderer, by the way. I’ve been suffering every night, thinking how cute it is.”
I bristle. “Well,sorry. I did tell the guy I wasn’t a professional when he came to recruit me. Who in their right mind would approach some random woman and ask her to help them kill her boss?” I plant a sassy hand on my hip—which isalsoout of character for me, so I drop it. “It’s inane and illogical and completely mad.”
“I agree.”
“Seriously. Aren’t there places to find proper assassins? A Fiver or Craigslist or something? What’s that other one? The professionally professional one…”
“LinkedIn?”
I snap my fingers. “Yes. A LinkedIn! For assassins. Areliabledatabase for all your murder needs.”
His lips curve. “I’d think it’d be more like a Tinder.Match you with your murderer.”
“You’re not funny,” I say.
“I’m a little bit funny.”
Okay. Perhaps. Just a little bit.
Fidgeting, I link my fingers behind my back and stand very tall. “All of this is to say, I’m very, very sorry for trying to killyou, and probably you should take precautions against being murdered in the future.”
His lips twitch, a littletooamused while he seems to be biting back his smile. “I’ll keep that in mind, and don’t worry about this guy. I’ve already got it handled. Which explains why you haven’t heard from him for a little while now.”
Oh. Yes. That would explain that, actually. Yikes. I guess it’s averygood thing I didn’t message him this morning in case cops have his burner by now.
Malcolm says, “By the way, I accept and appreciate your apology, dove.”
Relief settles into the aching pit of my chest, but I don’t allow myself a moment to dwell on it. “Excellent. In other news, since I was only dating you to murder you, I believe it may be prudent to terminate that relationship immediately.”
His amusement dies. “What?”
“I was fake dating you for the purpose of crime. You knew this, on some level. I didn’t exactly keep my convoluted feelings of loathing secret.” Because I really, truly, am a terrible accomplice.
“Isn’t this the part where you tell me that you don’t want our relationship to befakeanymore?”
I blink at this insane man. “Am I not saying that?”
“You’re saying you don’t want it toexistanymore. That’s different than not wanting it to be fake. You’re basically breaking up with me.”
Slowly, I ease myself toward my loveseat and nestle down to peer at Malcolm. “I’ve tried to help someone kill you. Heck.I’vetried to kill you. When I choked you, I wasn’t messing around.”
“Yes, and?”
“Why would you date someone who’s tried to kill you?”
“Because I love you?”
Perfect. That’s exactly the response I was hoping for.
Smiling, I lean forward, planting an elbow on my knee and my chin in my hand. “That’s nice. But, see,Idon’t loveyou. And now that I’ve come clean, there’s nothing more a relationship with you affords me. I’m becoming a better, less vengeful person, and I’m taking steps toward respecting myself enough not to let you mess with me so much. Now that I know you’re unlikely to fire me, since you like me so much, I will be exercising numerous boundaries and going so far as to threaten you with quitting should you ignore them.”
He watches me. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
“Like what?”
“I mean.” He lays a finger on the burner phone beside him. “Technically, you’ve just admitted to several counts of attempted murder. That sounds an awful lot like blackmail to me. And if we’re threatening each other…well.”
My smile vanishes.
