"Thanks."
He pointed at the door. "That's the bedroom."
"Where are you sleeping?"
"I have things to do, but I'll check in from time to time."
I felt disappointment. "Do the windows not close?"
He walked over to the table and grabbed what looked like a remote, then pressed a button. Black shades rolled down a few inches. He pressed the button again and they stopped moving.
"Oh, okay." I shifted, slightly uncomfortable. Or maybe just scared to be left alone at this unfamiliar place. But I think what really terrified me is the helplessness and being a burden.
"If you need anything, you have my number," he said. "Don't go out unless it's an emergency. Don't use your computer or phone just yet. I'll have someone install a program to hide your IP. It'll be done within an hour. I'll text you when it's safe."
"When are you coming back?" I bit my bottom lip, worrying it a little with my teeth. It felt like biting into my wishful thinking to keep it—him—with me.
Seven looked at me for a long time before responding, and I wasn't quite sure if he was looking at my eyes or my mouth. "I don't know yet," he supplied.
My heart dropped to my stomach. "Be careful…please."
"I'll do my best." Then he turned to go. He hesitated at the door, like he wanted to say something, but instead he just nodded once and left.
I was alone again. Really alone.
I walked to the window and pressed my forehead to the glass, contemplating whether it was all worth it if someone—who didn't deserve it—ended up getting hurt.
35 seven
I waited in the dark of the underground garage, perched in the back seat of the redhead's Mercedes. I didn't like being back at this apartment complex, but it was the easiest place to ambush the mark since Viper only needed a second to break into their security system.
Practice made perfect.
The car smelled like something sweet and fruity and a little suffocating. I didn't know why, but the scent of Kimmy's apartment came to mind almost immediately. Her place smelled like vanilla and all those other baking scents.
It smelled like home.
I shook it off, telling myself not to think about her while on the job. She'd become very distracting. The night I'd spent on the couch of the hotel suite was torture. I couldn't sleep. The thoughts of her being on the other side of the door drove me nuts.
It's been too long since you let some steam out, I'd told myself in the privacy of my mind.
Still, the image of her—those huge eyes and those teasing pink lips—wouldn't let me be in peace.
I couldn't understand it. She wasn't a good match. She was weak and a little paranoid and probably terrified of every shadow. Her self-defense skills were laughable at best. I'd never be with someone so…unreliable.
Wait? What?
Get a fucking grip, Seven!
Be witha woman?
Where are you getting these stupid ideas from?
You don't get to be with anyone. Period.
You're an operative for the Bureau.
You don't do things civilians do.
