I tried to gather my thoughts, even though they tried to run away from me. It wasn’t a simple thing for me to talk about this, especially not with her. Because it was going to change how she saw me.
If Keira knew the real me, would she value my friendship as highly as she seemed to? I’d always wondered. But I owed her the truth.
Still, I gave myself a couple more minutes, using them to take in the sight of her again. She looked so much healthier than she had in the hospital three weeks ago. The smooth sheen had returned to her skin. Her dark eyes were fierce.
The scent of gardenias reached my nose. Like the flowers I’d brought her at the hospital, her favorite, but this was just Keira herself. Shampoo or something. She’d always worn that scent.
She had a pretty scarf wrapped around her hair too. When I first stepped inside, I’d had to resist the urge to reach out and touch the fabric, to adjust how it sat a little askew.
Touching Keira was a privilege I’d lost, even if I’d never been able to touch her the way I wanted.
I hated to see that sling on her arm and the delicate way she carried herself. She had to still be in pain. She looked fragile enough that I could imagine scooping her up and cradling her in my lap.
I stopped and leaned against the wall, still keeping my eyes on her. Reminding myself why I had to do this, had to give her the truth about who I really was.
The short version, anyway. Condensed down to as few sentences as possible.
“I’ve also told you I was a sniper.”
“You mentioned it, sure. But not much else. You never told me much about your past.”
I could hear the frustration in her words, the hurt that I’d kept myself distant even during our friendship. She was about to find out why.
“Pretty early after I’d joined up, my superiors recognized a natural talent in me and pulled me out for special training. They nicknamed me Bullseye. Over time, I started carrying out covert missions that were classified at the highest levels.” I took out my necklace, feeling the heat of the metal bullet against my palm. “Ghost ops.”
“Wow. There’s probably a lot more to that story.”
More than I ever intended to confess. “I shouldn’t be telling you any of this. But it’s all true. If my superiors wanted someone dead, I didn’t ask questions. I made it happen using any means necessary.”
Until that last mission. The one I refused to complete.
My chest tightened as memories surfaced. The weight of the rifle. The stillness before each shot. The way everything narrowed down to a single moment, a single breath.
I closed my fist around the rifle round, my stomach churning.
“Okay.” Keira exhaled a long breath. “Okay. I get it.”
“When I left that life, I had to leave those parts of me behind too. I swore I’d never allow myself to be that person again.”
She nodded slowly. “I figured it was something like that. The reason you won’t touch guns anymore. It’s hard to think of you as some kind of assassin. You’re one of the least violent people I’ve ever met.”
That’s my penance, I thought.
I swallowed, and my throat was dry. “I’ve killed a lot of people, Keira.”
“So? You were doing your job. I’ve killed people too. Well,only one. Technically. It was in the line of duty, and I was just doing what I had to. I would’ve killed those men who tried to killmeif I’d had the chance.” She huffed a laugh without humor. “Honestly, I still would if I could find them.”
I stood up again, unable to sit still. “Don’t be so sure of that. It’s not easy to take a life, especially when you actually have time to think about it. When you have a choice.”
When I turned back to look at her, her features had darkened into a scowl. Even worse, her eyes were glossy with indignant tears. “Of course. Because I’m so different from you. You must think I’m pathetic.”
“What? No. Of course I don’t think that.”
Her hand, the one that wasn’t in the sling, clenched into a fist and released again, her entire body rigid with tension. “You’re exactly like Trace and Owen and the rest of them. I’m just a small-town deputy who’ll never be part of your exclusive ex-military club. The Protectors.”
“They’re my friends, but I’ve never been a part of that group. Never wanted to be.”
“But they wantedyou, even though you carry spiders outside instead of killing them and can barely even look at a weapon. I’ve brought at least half a dozen people to Last Refuge who needed protection, but that doesn’t matter. I’ve trained with Brynn and I’ve taken martial arts classes and put in countless hours at the range, but it’s never good enough.”
