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She pushed back against his arms until he had to loosen his grip. “So we’re going to what, wait here until another killer shows up who’s willing to finish the job?”
“No one is coming.”
“How can you know? How can you be sure?”
“Because I’m good at what I do. They will assume you are as good as dead. The Donnelly couple are fuckin’ tightwads. They won’t be handing out any more money until they confirm that I’ve failed or died. The most they’ll do is send someone to watch me and even that will be from a distance.”
She stared at him. Her eyes narrowed with a dark understanding. “You really did become a killer for hire? I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. The Zeven I remember from ten years ago couldn’t live like that. Hell, that man, the one I fell for couldn’t even fight back against his abusive family. Maybe it was inevitable that you become just another violent animal like them.”
Her words stung. They probably shouldn’t have, but they still did. “I have never hurt you.”
Her hand shot out. The swing was hard and fast, and he did nothing to stop it from connecting with a crack to his jaw. The sting sizzled through him. He welcomed the pain, accepting it as his due for the many ways he had failed her in the past.
“Because of you my family died, and they didn’t die nicely in their beds of old age. They died in a bloodbath.” Her fists came down against his chest, pounding, as if to make him take the blame for every crime on earth, as if to make him take the blame for all he was actually guilty of. “Why did they have to die?” Her voice fell lower, and all of the fight faded away from her eyes. “Why do I have to?” she whispered as her fingers fisted in the white material of his shirt.
If anyone other than Harley had made those strikes, he would’ve had them down and dead by now but not Harley. The last ones to ever strike him and live had been his clan but even they’d eventually paid for their abuse. Harley was different. He’d never intentionally harm her. He would take every fist she had to throw at him. He would take them all. Most likely would deserve them all, because she was right. “I’m sorry. If there was any way to undo the past…”
“What would you have done differently?”
Damn good question. He’d found her wandering lost in the desert while he’d been trying to scavenge some food for himself. She’d been so beautiful and had looked at him like some kind of hero. From the first moment, he’d known she was too good for him, but he hadn’t been able to resist staying by her side. Throughout the long desert night and most of the next day they’d been inseparable. Then he’d boldly visited her again and again over the course of nearly a week.
Maybe if he had taken her back to her family immediately, maybe if he’d driven them off before his clan had found them, maybe if he’d never dreamed of a future, maybe they’d have lived. But his greed for even a moment more time together had led to her family’s death.
She shuddered in his arms. “I’ve been running so long that I don’t know how to stop. But honestly, I don’t know how much more I can take either. I thought… I thought that I’d be able to stay here in Vegas.”
“We won’t be running.” He stroked her short hair and down her slim back. The heat of her body warmed his fingers through her shirt.
“If we don’t run, what will we be doing?” Her face, as it turned up to his, was filled with doubt.
What he should do is stop hesitating, go out right now and kill the Donnelly couple. Without the contract, would she be safe? Despite being the right choice, he didn’t release Harley, didn’t leave her alone to take away the threat. He couldn’t walk away, not even to save her life. He couldn’t because if he let her out of his sight even for a moment, she’d be gone in the wind. Now that he’d found her, and she was back in his arms, he couldn’t risk her leaving him again. He had to remind her of all they had once shared and convince her to willingly stay with him, to trust him enough to choose to stay.
“Well… do you even have a plan, or do you expect me to just wait around for something else to happen?”
What he had wasn’t much of a plan. “For now, yes. We will stay here for a short while.” This was his chance. And if he couldn’t get her to accept him, to trust him… then he’d give in and follow wherever she wanted to go, anywhere at all that would make her feel safe.
“Then what?”
The truth was he needed to be sure she wouldn’t run. He needed to be sure she would wait while he took care of the Donnelly couple’s threat. And until she trusted him, he knew she would be gone the second his back was turned. Building trust wasn’t one of his strengths. That wasn’t much of a surprise. He really only had one strength. He knew how to kill.
Harley pushed free from his arms. “If you won’t let me run away… I need a drink.”
He let her go and watched her proceed to fill a small glass at the counter in the corner of the room. “Fuck it, pour me one too.”
She didn’t answer him but did pour a second shot of whiskey. “Are you sure we aren’t in danger right now? I would feel much better putting distance between myself and the Vegas werewolves.” She downed the first and then sipped at her refill.
“I’m sure.” Even if they did send someone, he seriously doubted any hit man with skill would consider coming after him. Men who hunted for a living tended to have better instincts than that. He raised the glass and downed it in one long swallow. The alcohol wouldn’t affect him, which was good. The only drink that he’d found that had much impact was tequila.
Now that Harley wasn’t trying to escape, he took advantage of her stillness to soak in the sight of her. Damn, he’d missed her. Ten years, ten very long years without her. They’d been a cold and empty kind of hell. He thought back to the last time he’d seen her. He’d had a choice then. He could have chased after her or he could've stayed behind and kept her safe. As much as he’d wanted to be with her the need to keep her safe had been that much stronger.
This situation wasn’t all that different. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake. He wasn’t going to leave her alone. No matter what happened, he’d be by her side. That was where he needed to be, wanted to be.
Now here she was standing before him like a deer ready to flee. Her soft green eyes were the lovely shade of desert yucca. Harley’s golden curls were short now, little more than a blonde cap, yet he remembered when those soft curls had flowed down her back, reaching her slim waist.
Why did she cut the length? Ten years ago, she had loved all that long hair, loved it when he combed it with his fingers. Then he remembered the motorcycle parked in the garage. Long hair might be troublesome when riding a bike. Still, he missed the golden length. He missed tangling his hands in it, holding her under him. Would those short waves make as good an anchor?
“Stop looking at me like that.”
He met her flashing gaze. “Like what?”
