It isn’t what I mean to say, not in the slightest, but the words are out before I can stop them.
Her brow furrows, but her eyes stay shut. “What?”
“You accept your death so easily. Why?”
She flicks her eyes open and looks at me like there’s something wrong with me. As if I’m the one thanking the person who’s about to kill them.
Her mouth opens, but no sound comes out, and I’ve never been more aware of someone’s silence.
“Do you have a death wish?”
“What?”
“Suicidal tendencies?”
Outrage flashes across her face. “That’s not something to joke about.”
“I’m not joking.” I say flatly. “Answer the question.”
“No,” she hisses, squaring her shoulders. “Of course not.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
She glares at me like she wants to stab something. Preferably me. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re reckless.” I say evenly. “You should’ve stayed out of it. Most people would have.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “They were going to kill you.”
“And?”
She flushes, frustration carving lines into her delicate features. “And I couldn’t just—” She cuts herself off. Re-centers. “I couldn’t just leave you there to die.”
Why the hell would she try to protect me?
No one does that. No one steps between someone and danger. No one takes a hit meant for someone else. I do, but only because I was raised to do that. For River. For Athena. For Briggs. For the people closest to me, but never for some fucking stranger in an alley.
I stare at her, unsure of what to do next.
I eliminate threats. It’s what I’m good at, what Ifucking excel at. And despite what she saw, she still doesn’t feel like a threat to me.
So why the fuck would I kill her?
Before I even track that I’m doing it, I lower my gun and tuck it back into my waistband.
Her eyes flick to the movement, then back to me. “You aren’t going to—” She says, cutting herself off like she’s scared to say the rest of the words out loud.
“I’m not going to kill you. As misguided as your actions were, you were trying to save me. So I’m willing to entertain other solutions.”
Relief hits her so hard, she nearly doubles over.
“But.” I add, because there’s always a but. “We’re still at an impasse here, Bambi. You saw what I did. I can’t just let you walk away.”
“Why not?”
I tilt my head.
“You’ll talk, and we both know I’m too pretty to go to jail.”
