He notices me looking and smiles knowingly. For the next few minutes, we’re quiet. When Mira snores gently, I lean in close to Rhett. “I was just thinking… no matter what has happened, no matter what we’re going through, and sure, this might end with nothing between us or…”Or everything. But I can’t say that, because it sounds too silly. “At least you’re a good man. A cop. A soldier. A bounty hunter. You’re not acowardwho breaks the law, who thinks the rules don’t apply to him.”
Rhett swallows, gripping the steering wheel hard.
“That means something, Rhett.”
He nods.
CHAPTER 15
RHETT
The nod feels like a lie, perhaps because it is one. She just called me a good person because I use the law, because I was a cop and a soldier and now a bounty hunter.
She doesn’t know I’m a killer. Or that if I were caught, I’d be in prison for a hell of a lot longer than Lucian for the lives I’ve taken. Call me a vigilante, or the goddamn Devil. It’s all the same in the eyes of the law.
The tension inside me thickens. I feel like we’re walking a tightrope, except the rope is razor sharp and won’t stop cutting me. If I tell her who I really am, will she push me away? That would make her unsafe. And here I am, justifying my lying again.
Fuck.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
“Yeah, Sunshine,” I reply.
She makes ahmmnoise and nods. Perhaps it’s because she believes me, or maybe it’s because she needs to after this assholelied to her, manipulated her, and took almost everything. I pull up outside her house, swallowing a lump.
“Let’s go inside.”
“What about our stuff?” she asks.
“Let’s have a look around first.”
She nods knowingly, then reaches into the car and cradles Mira to her chest. I led them to the house, one hand near my hip where my gun is, tucked inside my holster. We skirt around the property, then go in through the back door. I gesture to her to go behind the kitchen counter, then I clear the rooms one by one.
I know no one’s here. I would hear them. Sense it. But I make sure.
When I return, Mira is still sleeping soundly in her sister’s arms.
“Can I put this one down?” she says.
I nod.
She walks down the hallway. I watch her go, an ache in my gut, her confident figure squeezed into those pale blue denim pants. The strength in her posture, the courage to keep going. She’s something else.
I need to get these cameras sorted out. Did I bring my tools? I grit my teeth. Nope. This would all be easier if I moved them into my place, but I don’t want to shake their lives up anymore than I already have. Still, something to think about.
I open a drawer in the kitchen and pull out a small box. Inside, there are some bolts, pennies, and a small leather-bound book. I flip it open. My breath catches. Polaroid photos of nature, ofpeople in deep conversation, and a dog with its tongue hanging happily out.
“What are you doing?”
I look up at Elle, her posture straight, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Is this yours?”
“Yeah, and it’s stupid.”
“Please, Elle. Goddamn it. Don’t say that.”
“Why not?” She says softly, walking toward the counter and leaning against the other side.
“It’s beautiful. It took the breath away from a cold bastard like me. That’s how you know it means something.”
