“You bet your ass you are,” she says, laughing. “You’re my hunk of the month, boyfie.”
“What the hell isboyfie?” I say, laughing harder.
“You know, boyfriend,boyfie.” She giggles, shaking her head. “That’s stupid, isn’t it?”
“I love it,girlfie.”
“We’re lame,” she says, snapping another photo. “Is this what boyfriends and girlfriends do? Do you think we lookconvincing?”
I grin, but something in me tightens. She was doing that as part of the game. But I’m getting too invested, can’t help it. I feel like I’m digging myself a bigger hole every time I look at her.
“I think so,” I say. “But I’m no expert.”
She sits and aims the camera at the forest. “Mira is out cold,” she murmurs. “That poor girl. She’s holding so much in. So much together.”
“I know,” I say.
“Because you saw it,” she replies. “You saw what it was like that night.”
“Yeah,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Do I…” She croaks. “Do you think I’d want to know?”
I look down at her, sunshine on Sunshine, her eyes wide, her mouth partly open, devastatingly beautiful with her hair curling across her forehead. Messy and sincere, and her. “No, Elle,” I say softly.
She sucks in a breath and nods. “Maybe not yet, then.”
Or ever.
Some things should be reserved for killers like me.
I go on in silence. She looks through the lens of her camera, changing angles, tilting her head. I don’t think even she knows how beautiful she looks when she’s in the flow like that.
As I set up the ladder for the next camera, she turns to me. “Is that what you call a pose,boyfie?” she says.
I smirk, shaking my head. There’s something undeniably magical about a woman who can take darkness and make it fun and playful.
“I didn’t realize I needed to be posing.”
She stands, aiming her camera at me. “And now that you do?”
I grin, leaning over toward the roof, flexing my arm. Her face lights up and she snaps a shot. She’s smiling from ear to ear. Her nickname is earned, hell.Sunshine. That’s what she is. Her own source of light.
“Like it?” I say.
“It’s actually… pretty hot,” she murmurs.
“Don’t do that,” I say, body going tight for an entirely different reason. “I need to finish these cameras. And the motion sensors. He’s not going to sneak up on us again.”
“Don’t talk about him,” she says fiercely. “I know he’s out there. I know it’s bad. I know I have to be scared. But can’t we just pretend…boyfie?”
Maybe she can, but I can’t forget what I am. I can’t pretend not to be a killer. What some would call a monster.
“We can pretend,” I tell her. She has no idea how grateful I am to bury it all deep. It’s what I do best, after all. I swallow the darkness of this world so that other people, better people, rays of pure sunshine don’t have to.
She grins and aims her camera. I pull another pose. She shivers, wriggling her hips from side to side, naturally highlighting the beautiful curvaceousness of her body.
She must see the look on my face. Or maybe it’s the way my abs tense up when she does that.
