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It’s my turn to laugh. “I’m certainly not that, either.”
I glance out the windshield. The heavens are really letting loose now. It suits my mood. Dark and powerful.
On my way out of the meeting I just attended, I was ready to break something. Anything. This little tiger cub sprinted in front of my car, and for one wild second, I thought,Maybe I’ll even break her.
I didn’t, of course. Obviously. I stopped the car and got out to read her the fucking riot act.
But something in her made me pause.
In my line of work, I don’t see unvarnished fear in people’s faces that often. They always try to hide it. Try to hide everything, actually, like I don’t see everything there is to see. They think it’ll help them to hold their cards close to the chest.
But this girl? It didn’t even cross her mind not to wear her heart on her sleeve. It didn’t occur to her that I could use that weakness against her. She was surprised when she started crying, but I wasn’t. I saw the cracks skittering across her surface long before the first tear fell.
Iwilladmit that things getting carried this far away is somewhat surprising, though. We’re in my car, just the two of us.
I wonder if she knows how dangerous a place this is.
“Are you from here?” she asks.
I shake my head. “Russia.”
“Russia. That explains the accent and the, uh… the…”
“Tigrionok,”I supply with a subtle smirk. “Yes, that is Russian.”
“Tee-gree-oh-knock.”She wrinkles her nose as she echoes it.
I press a mocking hand to my chest. “Awful. You’re butchering my native tongue. I ought to put you back out in the rain for your crimes against my people.”
Laughing, she slaps me on the arm. “I’m trying my best!” Then, remembering herself, she lets her hand fall back in her lap. That uncertainty crawls over her face.
Pity. I like it better when she is unbridled. The nickname started as a joke, but it is more on the nose than I realized. Her wildness, her rawness—it speaks to me.
You live long enough in a world of deceit and lies, and that shit starts to rub off on you. It feels like being cloaked in mud from the moment you open your eyes in the morning until you close them at night. There’s never any clawing it off.
Her, though? It’s like she’s never even seen the stuff.
“You said business brought you here. What kind of business do you do?”
I blink and turn my gaze back on her. “Murder. Drug trafficking. Despicable sins of all kinds—the more profitable, the better.”
She rolls her eyes. “Hilarious. I bet you’re here all week.”
“No, actually. Just tonight,” I reply with a straight face. “Someone betrayed me, so I came to warn them what would happen if they did it again. If you ever see me back here, it means that person is dead.”
A stunned silence swallows up the car. In the half-dark, the girl’s eyes are bright. Her cheek still blooms with that handprint. It makes me angry. Very fucking angry. I meant what I told her—any man who strikes his daughter isn’t fit to live.
My hands twitch. My father is already dead, luckily for him.
But if I wasn’t so sure he’s currently burning in hell for what he did to our family, I’d dig him up and kill him again.
“Ha … ha?” she ventures, uncertain. Her throat bobs as she swallows. “Let’s pretend I know you’re kidding, because otherwise, I’m going to have a nervous meltdown, and I’ve already had enough of those today to last a lifetime.”
“Sure. Let’s say I’m kidding.”
“Good.” She sighs with relief and slumps back in her seat. “Can I ask you a question? Is it nice, not giving a shit?”
My mouth curls up with amusement. “Is that the impression you have of me?”
