Four magical words.
The constant ringing of my phone during the inevitable important conversation I was having with Berkleigh was risky, but Bones more than made up for it when he announced that he followed up on my research and found the name of “The Boss”.
The Boss.What a fucking joke. Giving himself that title isn’t the flex he thinks it is. Besides, I’m about to rip apart his life without even breaking a sweat, yet you don’t see me spit shining my fantasy name plate.
After cleaning up the mess I made with the table and plates and everything else from dinner last night, I took the stairs two at a time in my haste to be with Berkleigh. She wasn’t kidding about the long bath, either. It took at least a couple of hours to get all the deets from Bones, then erase all traces of my temper tantrum, and by the time I got to the bathroom, she was sleeping in the cooling water.
I’m still pissed off about that.
“Oh, my God. Will you get over it, please? I didn’t drown in the bath water and my Kindle didn’t fall and electrocute me. See?” She wiggles in the passenger seat of my truck to prove her point.
“Christ, I have no idea how you’ve managed to survive without me all these years.” I bring my binoculars to my eyes and stare at the dark brown front door, wishing the motherfucking boss would come out and put me out of my misery.
Killing is so much easier than arguing with Berkleigh.
“Was Ialone all these years, though?” Smart ass.
I’m regretting my offer to have her come along with me on this stakeout. To be fair, it was the plan all along, it’s why I’ve been training her with the weapons and the self defense. This is her kill, her karma, but five more minutes of this conversation and I’m ready to just blow up the fucking house and get home for lunch if it means putting a lid on it.
“This again? I thought you’d forgiven me for the surveillance.” Fuck, I’m never going to hear the end of it, am I?
“Oh no. No, no. Absolutely not.” That little snort laugh I love so much makes an appearance, distracting me from the rehashing of last night. It’s even worse when I can’t pace or move or shut her up with my mouth.
Actually…
My hand flies out and fingers curl around her nape, bringing her face close and her lips right on mine. I love that, no matter what, she always melts under my touch. This won’t be our last fight, we’re both too stubborn and unstable to have a unicorns-and-rainbows relationship, but one thing I can always count on is that our need will always be stronger than our disagreements.
Once I’ve scrambled her brain—and mine—with my mouth and tongue and teeth, she pulls away. Her blue eyes are unfocused, her mouth has a dopey smile to it and it makes my fucking day knowing I did that. I made her feel good.
But that lasts about two seconds before she’s back like a feral animal hunting down its prey.
“You never even apologized, Tanner. How am I supposed to forgive you if you don’t say sorry?” I mean, she has a point, but I’ll never tell her that.
“I did apologize. I told you I went a little too far.” Not my exact words but close enough. Someone walks out of the house we’re surveilling and I sit up straighter in my seat ready to fuck some shit up, but it’s a false alarm. Fuck, this asshole has at least two kids. The woman with them is so young I can’t tell if it’s his eldest, the nanny, or a very young wife. I bet she’ll be happy to learn he died like a fucking dog. Reginald Mascot the third. Fuck me, that name alone screams inferiority complex. I bet he’ll beg me to snuff him out of his miserable life.
“You’re delusional. Actually, no. You’re insufferable.” From the corner of my eye I see Berkleigh reach for the snacks I brought, knowing that it would take a while. It always fucking does. I could never be a real cop or detective. Not only do they have to sit through this bullshit, but they have to follow laws once they catch the perps. Me? I off them and it makes me fucking happy.
Without even glancing her way, I grin like a toddler and point to myself. “Walking, talking, red flag, remember?”
And there it is…Berkleighughsand I can picture the eye roll that goes with it like a perfect pairing of red wine and steak.
“At this point, you’re an onyx flag. You’re the flag that people wave around to announce a red flag on the way.” She turns in her seat, a bag of salted peanuts in one hand and her index finger pointed straight at me. She’s fucking adorable. “You’re the guy I tell my patients to run far, far away from. Like…” Her hand is now doing a sweeping motion and I’m guessing she’s showing me just how far away she should be. You know…if she were “normal”.
“Sweet Bee, your mouth would be much more useful wrapped around my cock than whatever this whole thing is.” Without turning my head, I throw her a side glance and show off my best smirk. “My dick is feeling really left out of this conversation.”
“Unbelievable.”
She’s right, it’s unbelievable how hard our bickering gets me. Maybe she’s right, I’m a menace to society and should be hidden away like a recluse. Except she’s also wrong because I would never lay a finger on her to cause her harm she didn’t beg for.
“Besides, what color flag does it makeyouif you’re sitting here eating snacks, knowing damn well we’re about to fuck some shit up and bury them six feet under?” I sound like I’m talking about our plans for next Halloween.
What are we dressing up as?
Bonny and fucking Clyde.
But sure, we’re sane.
It’s quiet in the cabin of the truck all of a sudden, not that her nut chewing has stopped. Did I go too far?
