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You can trust me.
Still, I find it hard to speak. I don’t have the words.
He stares into my eyes. “When I was twelve years old, I killed my first traitor.”
I blink and stare back. For cultured men like the Gerards, I sometimes forget that they’re as brutally violent as they are when they have to be. The stories I’ve heard…
“Why?” I whisper.
“Why did I do it or why did they have to die?”
Oh, God.
I swallow but don’t look away. “Both.”
Still staring at me, he gives me the bald truth. “I did it because he was my first hired hit. To this day, I have no idea what he did. My family was just beginning to get into organized crime. I was really,reallygood at shooting. We needed the money, and I’d found a way to get it, alotof it, quickly.”
Wow.
Shit.
I lick my lips and swallow, trying to get up the courage again. “How many?” I whisper.
“I’ve lost count.”
I stare at him.
I’ve forgotten we’re still joined together. He’s still in me.
It feels strangely right.
He was a hired assassin. He killed for money because his family needed it.
“I never miss,” he says quietly. “Ever. If I shoot to kill, my target dies.”
He’s given me a glimpse into the deepest, darkest part of his soul no one but me ever sees.
“Now do you want to run?” he asks me.
I don’t want to give him anything but honesty. “A part of me? Yes. But a bigger part of me wants to stay.”
His brow softens with the hint of a smile. “You think you can fix me?”
I give him a smile back. “I don’t think I need to.”
He continues his story.
“We wanted control. People put their faith in bullshit lies and promises, but in the end, we know the people they trust are untrustworthy. Politicians line their own pockets. My family at least owns who we are.”
I nod. “Right,” I whisper. “I get it. I understand.”
Maybe he never needs to know who I truly am. Maybe he’ll understand that my affiliation with the man who’s rejected me my entire life has nothing to do with who I am today.
“Let’s get to bed,” he says, looking over his shoulder. “The sun is beginning to rise.”
“Are you actually going to sleep this time?” I tease. I stand and rinse myself off, then take the plush towel he hands me. I let him help me out of the tub so I don’t slip, then slide into a fluffy white robe waiting for me on a hook. “Oh my God, I’d pay you a million dollars to wear one of your own.”
He snorts. “I’m gonnatryto sleep, and if one of those damn things actually fits me, I’ll payyoua million dollars.”
