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“Who said they were innocent?” he countered.
“Are you saying they aren’t?”
He shook his head. “Not even close. People don’t hire men like me to kill innocent people. Innocent people keep their heads down and mind their own business. They live quiet lives away from bad men like me. When I was in London last week, I killed two brothers who were fronting a trafficking site. I was paid extra to torture them before I finally put them down for good. They’re probably in a landfill by now…”
That made me feel better—immensely. Men who captured and sold women shouldn’t be alive anyway. “And what about me?”
“What about you?” he asked.
“What if someone wants to hurt you by going through me?” Knuckles captured me to hurt Conway, and he was successful.
Bones’s eyes softened slightly. “We do a good job of keeping ourselves anonymous. We’re the messengers. We pull the trigger, but someone else ordered the hit. It’s nothing personal. And I would never let anything happen to you, baby. You know I’m bulletproof.” He patted his shoulder, the exact place where I shot him.
“So how does it work?” I asked. “Someone contacts you and asks for a hitman?”
“Exactly,” he said. “They contact Max. He distributes the work between the three of us. Each of us has different strengths, so he pairs us with the best assignments. Half of the money is transferred before the kill, and the other half is after the kill.”
“And you’ve been doing this for a long time?”
He nodded. “Almost ten years. It’s given me the kind of wealth that I should have had a long time ago. I kill the kind of men I despise, and the world is a better place. Works out for everyone.”
“So you’ve never killed an innocent person?” I asked hopefully.
“The closest I’ve ever come is when I almost killed you.”
My warm skin suddenly felt cold, remembering that knife against my throat.
“And now I’d rather die than let anything ever happen to you. You’re my woman, and as long as I’m alive and breathing, no one will even look at you wrong. I’ll always keep you safe, even when you think I’m not watching.”
I felt his protection surround me the second he scooped me into his arms last night. I knew he’d given all of himself to me, that he would die before he let something happen to me. There was no stronger man in the world who could look after me…besides my father. But I didn’t want my father to take care of me forever. I wanted to find a man who could replace him, who could give my father peace of mind.
Bones fulfilled that wish…for the most part.
“Since we’re having this interrogation, anything else you’d like to know?”
“I’m not interrogating you.”
“Seems that way.”
“I just realized there are some things I don’t know about you. I’ve never bothered to ask.”
“You know I wouldn’t have answered you anyway,” he said quietly. “You can ask me anything you want—if I can ask questions in return.”
“That seems fair…”
He set down his mug then moved beside me against the couch. He dropped his arm behind my neck and then pulled me closer to him. He positioned one of my legs over his lap, and while the rain fell outside, he kept me warm against the cold. “When did you know you loved me?” He stared me down as he studied my reaction.
My eyes shifted down so he couldn’t read me so well. I felt embarrassed saying the truth out loud, embarrassed because I tried to lie to myself for so long…furtively. Everyone could see the truth, even my mother could see it. “When I visited my parents and brought those paintings with me…I accidentally brought your painting along. It got switched with a different one. She opened it by mistake and saw it…”
With unblinking eyes, he stared at me with no discernible reaction.
“She looked at it for a long time. She didn’t know it was you because I never told her. But then she asked me about you…said she wanted to know about the man I was obviously in love with. I denied it and dropped the subject, but I knew then. I knew how I felt about you. Art is something that can’t lie. And when my mother guessed my feelings so easily…I knew it was true.”
His fingers moved to my cheek, and he gently ran his fingers through my hair, feeling the soft strands as he pulled them from my face. “You lied to me.”
I turned my gaze to him, my eyes brimming with moisture.
“You told me you didn’t love me.”
“Because I didn’t want to…”
He moved his face close to mine and kissed the corner of my mouth. “Don’t worry…I never believed you.” His lips moved up then kissed my hairline.
“When did you know?”
“A lot sooner than that.”
