He purses his lips. “You were passed out when I came.”
“Mmhm.”
“Were you staying under the bridge the entire time?”
He might’ve monitored the bridge, so I can’t lie. “No. I holed up in an apartment I broke into.”
“You shouldn’t remove the trackers I put in you, Dec.”
My skin starts to crawl, and I start to unwrap my head. “Hell no, Connor. Not again. Damn it. Get that shit out of my head.”
“Relax. I didn’t put one under the cut in your head, only because there’s a cut on your biceps. Perfect size for me to slip in the tracker, but I’d hate to put in all that work only for you to cut it out again.”
“Okay, good.” I peel off the bandage over my biceps. My skin looks normal. No unnatural bumps. When it comes to this, I don’t trust Connor. “Now you’re going to make me check every cut.”
He sighs. “I didn’t do it.”
I check the wound on my belly. “Nothing.” I lie back down.
“Where was the apartment?” he asks.
The one I said I broke into. I give him an address.
“That sounds familiar.”
“It was Walter’s apartment.” One of the now-dead assets.
“Ah. Like a safe house.”
“Mmhm.”
“Dec?”
“Yeah.”
“Why are you lying to me?”
Since he can sense I’m lying, if I deny I am, he will seek the truth with a single-minded purpose. He’s incredibly dangerous when he’s hunting after something or someone. I never want Connor to find Dina. I never want our worlds to collide again.
My mother was a postal office clerk when Massio met her. They went out twice before he proposed. She said no. The rest is history.
Connor and I aren’t like other people. Massio’s sick genes are inside us. Connor’s probably crazy. I’m a professional killer. We should stay away from civilians. Nice female civilians, particularly. And we can never, EVER have children of our own.
“I’m concealing the fact that I didn’t have pain meds, so I scored a few grams and used them when I promised you I wouldn’t use them again.” I had a drug problem in my early teen years. Connor beat me until I stopped. I wouldn’t recommend our methods to anyone else. We’re aware they’re unorthodox.
“How did you get from Walter’s apartment to the bridge?”
“Walter drove me.”
Connor side-eyes me.
I pick up my phone, intending to catch up on the news. “What? Did you draw an asshole on my cheek again?” I wipe my right cheek. My hand comes away clean. I turn my head toward him. “What is it?”
He positions his phone and takes a picture of me.
“Hey.” I swat at his phone. “Cut it out.”
Con laughs and holds up the camera above me. “You are lying to me, Dec.”
