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“That I have to know,” I say, imitating her voice and rolling my eyes slightly. “Her mom told her there was no such thing as a kind rich man.”
“I’m not kind, Rosie,” he growls, sitting up straighter so it’s like his iron suit could tear to fragments any moment. “So get that notion out of your head.”
“But you’re loyal and you’d never hurt me,” I press.
“That goes without saying,” he rumbles.
“Ryland,” I murmur.
He pauses, tilting his head at me the same way a hunting wildcat would if we crossed paths in a dense jungle.
He studies me, his ice-blue eyes seeing everything.
“You want to know how many men I’ve killed,” he says, voice husky and deep.
I turn away under the intensity of his gaze.
“Look at me, Rosie,” he commands.
I tug my gaze back to him with an effort, my will smoldering under his captivated attention.
“If you want to ask, ask,” he snarls.
“Fine,” I say, my pulse shimmering through my body on anxiety-fueled wings. “How many men have you killed, Ryland?”
“Over a dozen,” Ryland says matter of fact.
I swallow, letting the force of the fact wash over me.
The menu grows limp in my hand and flutters to the table.
“For money?”
“I was paid for all of them except one, yes,” he says, still staring at me, unflinching.
“What happened with the other one?” I ask.
“He tried raping a woman within my hearing,” he says. “It was a late night and I was cruising through this piece-of-shit street to meet a contact. It was warm and I had the window down, and I hear her screaming…”
He grips the edge of the table, squeezing it so hard the wood creaks. His knuckles turn the color of bone.
“It’s okay,” I tell him, keeping my voice steady. “It’s okay, Ryland.”
“I go and investigate,” he goes on, in a low voice. “And this piece of shit was trying it right there. He had a knife. It was evil. I challenged him. He attacked me. He tore my forearm up pretty bad, but then I had him. I did what I had to do. It turns out he’d abused her for years—her and other women. I don’t regret ending his life.”
“You don’t have to regret it,” I say. “That’s pure evil.”
I touch his hand, stroking it until the tension in him relaxes a tiny bit. He’s like an enraged beast when he gets like this, every part of him amplified, ready to burst free.
“The others were all criminals,” he says. “I’m the best at what I do. My father’s name meant something. So I got to pick my jobs and charge as much as I wanted, too. I only ever killed men who’d done something evil. All of them were rapists. Some of them had murdered women. And the rest… I can’t even think about that sort of evil, Rosie, let alone taint you with it.”
“You’d never lie to me, would you?” I say.
He flinches. “Never.”
“Those men deserved it, then,” I tell him. “I’m not saying it’s the perfect career, but it’s like soldiers. You were in a war…”
“I am in a war,” he says. “I’ve got a cachet of evidence against the Mafia, the Cartel, the Yakuza. They all know not to cross me. This goes back years. My old man started it, and I carried it on. They all sign contracts every time they hire me, agreeing that I’ll release their organization’s evidence if they ever step over the line.”
“Whoah,” I say, shaking my head. “That’s crazy. I thought they killed people for that in the criminal world.”
“They do,” he smirks. “But nobody would ever be able to kill me, Rosie.”
“Ryland,” I say firmly. “You’re a human being. You bleed. You shouldn’t say things like that.”
He puffs himself up. His eyes are sharp and intelligent.
“I’m a professional,” he growls. “They’re amateurs. My father was Bucky Radley, an ex-Army man. He trained me when I was just a kid. He taught me everything a man needs to know by the time I was thirteen years old. I was born into this life. I served in the SEALs for several years in my early twenties, overseas. I’m a black belt in jujutsu and an expert in boxing and kickboxing. I’m the fastest shooter in this goddamn city, and I know my weapons more intimately.”
Pride flares in his voice as he sits up even straighter.
“I’m worth thirty of those motherfuckers,” he growls. “But it’s more than that. It’s you, Rosie. Before, I was fighting because it’s all I know. Now, I’m fighting for you, for us, for our future together. I wouldn’t want to be the bastard who tries to stand in the way of that.”
A shiver moves through me at the heat of his words, the conviction in them.
It’s like nothing truer has ever been said.
My wombs sings to me, telling me to believe. We are invincible.
