“Lincoln?” I grab his jaw and force his eyes back to mine. “What changed?”
“What’s this coin?” He pulls free of my grip and looks down again, gently turning the coin over. “I haven’t seen one like this before.”
“It’s a family heirloom.” I fist his hair and drag his focus back up. “What’s the big deal about sex? Men and women do it every single day. It can be as much as we want it to be, or as little. It can mean something, or it can be a physical release.”
“Yeah?” His jaw clenches, his dark eyes flickering between mine. “Well, while you’re out here looking for a physical release, I went and did the stupidest thing ever.”
“What stupid thing? Do you mean the condom? Because while that may not have been our smartest idea, I’m protected, and since it’s too late for the ‘are you clean?’ talk, I’m gonna hope you are and pray we’re fine.”
“It’s not about the condom!” He drops the coin and crushes the heel of his palm against his eye. Just one, since his other hand supports his weight. “Dammit, Nova. Don’t you fucking see?” He pins me with a glare. “Like an idiot, I came to townconfidentyou were just a target. Just a girl I would hang out with. Flirt with. Trick into trusting me.”
My heart gives a heavy thud that painfully reverberates through my chest. “Trick?”
“I wasn’t supposed to catch feelings for the beautiful woman who lives next door! I wasn’t supposed to humanize you at all. I came here for one reason, Nova. One really fucking specific task. Now we’re both screwed. Because you’re wearing your brother’s dog tag and a coin I know—I fucking know—isn’t what you think it is.”
“What?” I shove up to my elbow, then onto my backside, forcing my spine into an unnatural curve as I trap the coin between my fingers and look down at it. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Where’d you get it?” he asks instead, sitting up and taking the coin for himself.
For a brief flashing thought, I think about the steel chain still hanging around my neck. His broad fist—so strong, so sure—could so easily hurt me. If he were a lesser person, he could end my life, and no one would even know I was gone.
I have no one left to report me missing, and by the time mycolleagues ask questions, my body could be removed, buried, and forgotten. My truck, parked in my driveway and left to confuse the authorities.
I place my life and trust inthisman. The one who mentionstrickingme.
“Nova?” He allows the chain to hang limp, but pinches the coin between his thumb and finger. “What do you mean it’s a family heirloom?”
“I mean, Ryan left it for me. After he…” I won’t cry tonight. I refuse. Not while I’m here. Vulnerable. Naked, even. “After the accident and everything was settled, the police gave me his things. His tags. I buried one with him and kept the other for myself. There was only one coin, and he used to carry it around with him always, like a lucky charm.”
“Did it always have a hole drilled through?” He brings it closer, squinting in the lamp’s light. “A hole that literally eliminates two of the digits. Was that always there?”
“No.” I tug the coin from his grasp. “I put that there because the numbers are meaningless, but the coin means everything. I wanted to hang it around my neck and keep it close.”
“You deleted it.” Delirious, almost, he chokes out a startled laugh and turns to move off the bed.
Sadness envelops me—I wasn’t done lying here. I wasn’t ready to go back to the real world. But he pushes to his feet and grabs his jeans, stabbing his feet in and tearing the denim up to sit on his hips.
His back is broad and strong, but it’s the entire half side covered in ink that catches me by surprise. An intricate wing—just one—carefully needled into his skin, the feathers spreadingnot only from his spine to his shoulder and ribs, but across the back of his arm.
Momentarily distracted, I crawl across the bed and stop just a foot away, tilting my head to watch the ripple of his muscles impact the delicate lines of art someone spent hours and hours on. Days. Perhaps even weeks.
“This is amazing, Lincoln.” I reach out warily, like I would if approaching a wound, or even new ink. Though I know this is neither. “It’s so good. You must’ve sat so long for this.”
“You deleted the code, Nova.” He refastens the button on his jeans and turns back to face me, his eyes dark, burning a deep black that already visits me in my dreams. In such a short time, Lincoln Castro has already become a deep-seated part of my psyche. “Are you listening to me?” He grabs my jaw and pulls me up, cutting off my air with the way he angles my head back. “You deleted the fucking code.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He laughs, tipping his head and growling up at the ceiling. “This whole mission. The whole thing was for nothing because the code is gone!”
“What code?” I brush his hand off and twist, bringing my backside under me once more. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I search for a way to make him speak without riddles. “Lincoln? I need you to explain yourself.”
“I’m not who you think I am.” Like a storm surging with rage and pulsing with energy, he pushes away and paces the room, his back tattoo rippling with the movement. “This was all a lie.”
“You…” I stand, completely vulnerable to his gaze. “What?”
“You’re gonna hate me when I tell you.” He turns and looks me up and down. With both desire and sadness. Lust and longing. “You’ll want to kill me, and I’ll deserve it. And even if you don’t, my boss will kill me. He’ll probably succeed. But you need to know, Nova. And then you need to get in your truck and leave.”
“Why will I hate you?” I bend and sweep up my dress, yanking the fabric inside out, then outside in. My hands shake and my throat aches, but I keep him in my peripherals while my stomach heaves with nerves. With intuition. “You say you care about me? Stop talking in circles and just explain what the hell is going on.”
