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Distracted by Mark, I’ve given Lindsay her chance. She took it. My face absorbs the impact, which wasn’t much. She has strong arms but bad aim. I can tell this is the first time she’s ever slapped anyone.
I would laugh if I weren’t rubbing my mouth, tasting a little blood.
And dealing with a shit-eating grin from Paulson, who gives me a look that says, Better you than me, man.
Chapter 3
“Would you excuse us for a moment?” I ask, as if Mark had interrupted us at afternoon tea, and not in a moment of rage and humiliation and gun theft.
He turns away and heads toward a dark figure a hundred feet away. Must be Gentian.
I reach for Lindsay but she steps back, knees unlocked, thighs tight in a stance I recognize. It’s from mixed martial arts and her fists are curled. She thinks she’s going to fight me?
Cute.
Cute and hot.
“Lindsay, I’m Special Ops trained. You couldn’t take me if you cloned yourself five times.”
“I don’t need to fight you and win, Drew. I just need to cause a little damage.”
Oh, you already did, baby.
My chest squeezes, just enough to make me ache.
Can’t say that out loud, though.
“I am trying to help you,” I say slowly. Moonlight highlights the still-fresh scratches on her face, the awful bruising from the car accident, and her cheeks are flushed, rosy and fresh. She looks so gorgeous and raw, injured and feisty right now. It’s inappropriate and completely dangerous to think this way.
I don’t care.
I need to get through to her.
My hands aren’t enough. Brute strength isn’t cutting it.
I guess I have to resort to feelings.
“Beating me is your idea of helping? Why am I not surprised?” she says, her bitter tone making me wince. On the inside only, of course. On the outside, my face is polished granite.
“You can’t do this. Not alone.”
“Do what?”
“Hunt down those guys and kill them.”
Her mouth makes a silent O.
“I wasn’t – I wouldn’t -- ”
“Don’t lie. I was. I would.”
Her eyelids peel back in shock.
“But not like this, Lindsay. You’re not being logical. This is no plan. You need tactics and strategy to win a war when you’ve lost so many battles already.”
Her jaw is hard as steel, tight like a drum, and she’s glaring at me like she doesn’t want to hear a damn word I say.
But she’s listening.
