Page 78 of Trigger Happy Ending

He leaves his fingers hooked over the scoop of fabric.

He tilts his head, visor hiding everything. Is he frowning, smiling, grimacing, or expressionless? It’s driving me wild, not knowing. I’m not in control right now, and that’s not sitting well.

Soren keeps me there for one unbearable moment after another before he drops his hand and turns away from me, mounting the bike. The engine roars to life, and before I know what is happening, tires screech as he pulls out and speeds away, leaving me standing in the empty garage, pulse still ricocheting, chest tight.

He’s leaving me alone?

I guess I did the exact same thing to him last night.

Chapter 34

Soren

Amurderous assassin, honed killer, ice-cold executioner … And she’s scared of thunderstorms. It’s cute. This vicious woman reduced to a candle-hoarding mess, all because the sky’s angry.

“Raine’s scared of rain.” I chuckle, scooping a handful of Cheetos from a bowl and popping them into my mouth. “How ironic,” I splutter while crunching on the mouthful of orange joy.

“Shut up, asshole. I’m not scared of rain,” she says, playfully rolling her eyes. “It’s the lightning I don’t like.”

Ever since we nearly crossed that line (which we absolutely do not talk about), we’ve managed to fall back into our old ways of taunting each other.

Which is for the best.

Ever since the Golden Claw got torn apart two nights ago, I haven’t seen much of Raine. The club is still shut, thanks to the damage caused by the Raptors. Carson texted me himself about what happened, which tells me he trusts me. Or close enough to it.

The second I heard Derek had put his hands on Raine, I wanted to find the cunt myself and break him apart piece by piece. Carson called it a one-off, but he doesn’t strike me as a man who lets shit slide. Not when it happens under his roof and affects his business. Wouldn’t surprise me if he’s ordered his team to find the fuckers themselves.

As for Raine, she might not be working, but she isn’t relaxing. She’s fixated on Cherry and her safety. I knew she was fond of her, but I didn’t realize how much she cares for the red-headed chick. Cares enough she’s risked one of the tech guys to create a new identity for her. That alone tells me enough.

Tonight, though, we’re bunkered down in the apartment as a fierce storm approaches.

Raine glances toward the floor-to-ceiling windows that look out over the city.

“I’m not loving being this high up either.”

I chew with my mouth full, orange crumbs landing on the marble bench. “I just find it funny the Agency’s most feared assassin is a scared little kitten underneath.”

She narrows her eyes to slits. If looks could kill, I’d be flayed alive. She walks around the island and promptly aims the candle lighter into my pile of Cheetos, and pulls the trigger, setting them, and the plastic bowl, on fire.

“What the fuck!”

The smell of melted cheese dust and burnt plastic punches me in the face as I grab the bowl, shove it in the sink, and douse the flames.

She doesn’t drop her gaze from mine as the Cheetos sizzle and pop. “Relax. There’s another bag in the pantry. Don’t make fun of me, and we won’t have a problem.”

“It’s called banter,” I mutter, shaking my head and wiping the mess. “And by the way? These buildings are built to handle storms like this.”

“They’re also lightning magnets,” she shoots back, lighting yet another candle.

I don’t know why I’m trying to calm her when she just cremated my fucking snacks. I lean an elbow on the bench, watching the flame flicker across her bruised cheekbone.

Damn, she’s beautiful.

“You know lightning can hit the same spot twice?” she says, dead serious.

I throw her a look that says yeah, right.

“It’s true.” Her eyes widen as she tries to convince me. “Skyscrapers, trees … all repeat targets.”