Elena’s hands rise to bat at mine. “If you want me to cover up?—”
I let out a soft growl that stops her fussing. “I do, but not for the reasons you’re thinking. Is he armed?”
“What?” She stands still and lets me button her shirt to her breasts. My knuckles graze the heavy swell, and her eyelids half close. “Y-yes. Knives. He prefers knives.”
I can see that, honey.“I can deal with hand-to-hand. Is he trained?”
“Not like you.”
That gives me pause. She asked about my work before. “What do you know about me?” I let my hands linger on that top button of her top. My thumbs stroke the curves of her breasts.
Her breaths come a little faster. “Only that you’ve been out here for a long time. You came home after— After your world was destroyed.” Her voice becomes a thin whisper as I drop one hand to her hip and press her backwards into the door to the stairwell I closed and locked earlier.
“Good. Keep going.” I squeeze her hip, reaching up to cup her jaw. “What else did he tell you?”
“Who?” Her eyes glaze as I close my hand around her throat gently. Not threatening, just there.
“Drake.” I stroke her pulse point there, too.
“He said not to…” Her eyes flutter open. She’s struggling, fighting me, and it’s beautiful. “He said not to… That there’s a reason you are the way you are.”
He got that damn right.
“Drake should keep his opinions to his own damn self,” I mutter, pulling my hand away from her hip to brace my forearm over her head, boxing her against the door to my open air living space. “So tell me, Elena with the husband you’re asking me to kill. What are you offering in payment?”
Her eyes refocus and she looks out over my shoulders. “How do you keep all the nasties out?” she mutters.
I laugh, a sound alien to me. “Damn, woman. You’re gonna make me crazier than I already am.” I stoke her throat and she fucking well arches in my hold like a cat being petted. If I wasn’t hard before, now I’m straining in my jeans and fit to burst from that little display. Touching her was the worst choice of my day. “Focus, sweetness. Is he down there now, looking for you, or are you just scared of him?”
She shakes her head, restless. “I’m fucking terrified, alright? He cut me up, chased me across three counties. I managed to get a divorce only because he didn’t realize that I'd spent the past decade building my own business while he was off screwing anything with tits on business flights. I was meant to be the pretty southern wife who could cook and raise kids.” A bitter smile twists her pretty lips. “Only, if he’d ever actually listened during any of the dates we had during those early days, he would have realized that I struggled to fall pregnant or keep a baby, because there’s something wrong with me. And after he fucked me up…well. He made that a permanent thing, didn’t he?”
I swallow hard as her eyes glitter with the sort of madness that I know all too well. It’s the same sort I'll see if I look in a mirror. Not that I’ve seen one of those for a damn long time.
“Did he?” I let her throat go and cup her cheek. “I’ll do what you want, honey. Maybe throw in a few extra details if you need me to be specific.”
I want to see if she’s got desperation on her mind, or revenge. Not that I much care. I’ll do what she wants anyway. Right now we’re just negotiating terms. The man’s life became forfeit the moment she showed me her scars.
“I don’t care what you do. As long as he’s gone.” Her eyes fill with tears, but they aren’t for the dead man to be. They’re for the woman she was who trusted him with something that was precious to her once.
“I’ll do that for you,” I say softly. “You mentioned payment, Elena. What do you have in mind?”
“I have money,” she blurts, then winces, like it's a dirty word.
Between us it is, and she instinctively knows that.
I laugh at her. I don’t need a dead man’s money.
“What the hell am I going to do with cash, sweetness? I’ve got more than I need and nothing to spend it on. I got a payout enough to last me four lifetimes when I retired and walked out here. Hell, they gave me three medals for what I did. And what I didn’t do.” My voice becomes ragged.
“I heard.” Her fingers rise to my shoulder. It’s about as far as she can reach without getting onto her toes. “How do you know Drake?”
I frown at her. “He served with me for a few years. But he’s not a stranger to you, is he?” I got that wrong. Maybe I’ve assumed other things about her, too.
She shakes her head, her eyes clearing. “We went to college together. He did engineering. I studied music. Then I graduated and grew up. My love became a hobby…forgotten.” Her lips twist again. “And I got a new hobby.”
I fucking hate that expression on her.
“The husband.” I brush my thumb across her bottom lip, smoothing her flesh out. Her skin pops back under my touch. “Alright, honey. The deal is that you stay here, and you don’t leave. That’s it. That’s my payment. Stay out of my way. I’ll tell you when the job is done. You’ll be free of him then. Understood?” I drop my hands and step back. If I don’t, the job won't get done, but she sure as hell will.
