Page 52 of Trigger Happy Ending

I’m mortified he woke me from a nightmare. (Why did he even care enough to do that?)

Even more mortifying: I held a knife to his throat.

Straddling him felt fucking amazing.

I felt safe enough with him by my side to fall back asleep. (This has never happened.)

He thinks I’m dead inside. (I used to think I was, but now I’m not so sure?)

He said I was nothing special, but I swear he wanted to kiss me. (Mixed signals much?)

And that’s just from yesterday. Never mind all the other bullshit.

See? A total mindfuck.

I slide another bottle of some hideous-looking rocket fuel onto the shelf and check the clock for the tenth time in ten minutes. Cherry skips behind the bar and pours herself a cola before perching herself on the edge of the counter, looking every inch the Southern belle. She’s wearing hot pink booty shorts, pink rhinestone crop top to match.

“Oh, that’s good,” she says, taking a sip of her drink. “Shit, that’s fresh.”

She drags out the word ‘fresh’ giving me the clue I need.

“Bridesmaids.”

She tosses her red hair over her shoulder and laughs. “Yes!”

“That was too easy.”

Cherry shares the same talent for remembering iconic quotes. It’s become a bit of a thing to sling a few back and forth to each other during our shifts. Bridesmaids is a repeat offender.

“So, I’ve got an idea,” Cherry says.

I slide another bottle of Jack into place and groan. “Oh god, what now?”

“Why don’t you come with me?”

“Where? Another dive bar that sucks?”

“No, bitch!” Cherry laughs and playfully kicks at my ass like we’re in a teen movie. “I was thinking, why don’t you come with me? When I leave New York. We could start fresh together.”

I smile before I can stop myself. It’s very tempting. God, it’s so deliciously tempting. Ever since that first conversation with Cherry, my thoughts keep winding back to what it would be like to walk away from this bloody lifestyle. I even called Smyth to see what the process is to disappear and create a new identity. He didn’t know it was for me, of course. Assumed it was for a source. The good news is Smyth said it’s not too hard. However, the hard part for me is staying hidden from the Agency, because there isn’t a chance in hell they are simply letting me leave. Not when I’m sworn to them for life. And certainly not within a mission. If I were to run, it would have to be forever. And after this is over.

“Cherry, I can’t.”

“Can’t, or won’t?”

I don’t answer as I crack open a fresh carton of Grey Goose, avoiding her stare.

“Why not?” Cherry demands.

“I just can’t, okay?” I snap.

Cherry sighs, like I’ve broken her little Southern heart. “I’m gonna ask you every day until I leave.”

“As long as you’re ready for daily rejection,” I reply, my tone softer than earlier. “Where’s the dream destination, anyway?”

“Not telling unless you’re coming,” she says, pursing her lips together. “But it’s somewhere nice. With spacious apartments that aren’t the size of a shoebox, and men who know how to find the clitoris.”

I laugh out loud. “You’re describing a fantasy, not a place.”