He cocked an eyebrow.“What?”
“I ask a question, then it’s your turn to do the same.We take turns and that way we become familiar with each other.”
His jaw shifted left and then right as though he were considering her proposition.
“If you don’t answer, I’m not going to,” she announced.“The other rule is that we have to be honest.”
It wasn’t fair that he was the only one getting to know anything.She wanted to learn about him too.
“Youdorealize I’m a killer, right?”
She snorted.“Well, now, so am I.”
“Who do you work for?”
She opened her mouth to answer but recalled she had submitted her resignation.“I’m currently between jobs.”
A short, throaty chuckle escaped him.It was a lovely sound.Something told her he didn’t laugh often.
“Interesting.”He stroked his bare chin again.
The smile brightened his painted face.What did he look like under there?If he fell asleep, she could wipe it off and find out.
No.
She couldn’t do that.It would be rude.If they were going to stay on good terms, she couldn’t be a dick to him.
“So, do you agree?”she asked.
“To what?”
“Twenty questions,” she sang as she reminded him.
Rolling his black eyes, he sighed.“Fine.”
“Okay, so you asked my name,” she recounted.“Sydney.Now it’s my turn.”
He rolled his hand in a gesture for her to keep going.
“What’s yours?”They’d met mere hours ago.They’d shared a murder, and he’d been inside her.It was the least bit of information he could offer her.
“Fink.”
“Fink?”She repeated.“Bullshit.That’s not real.You have to tell the truth or else this won’t work.”
“It’s mine.”
“No, it’s not.”
Again, he chortled.“How do you know?”
“Because never in the history of ever did anyone look at a baby and think, ‘I’m going to call this kid Fink.’”She folded her arms across her chest.“If you’re going to play, you have to do it fairly.”
“I am.”
“Then tell me.”
“It’s Fink.”
