Yes, she is.
“I did the job,” I say hoarsely.
Ruiz lets out a dry, cutting chuckle. “She was more than the job.”
I let the self-loathing wash over me. “I kept up the wall…and climbed into her bed.”
Kiera groans, throwing her hands up in annoyance. “Oh my God! Can we stop with the self-flagellation, and the loving on the target?”
“Shut up, Kiera,” Ruiz says good-naturedly.
Kiera glances over, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. “Ruiz the Romantic, I expect this from, but Dom? You?”
“Shut up, Kiera,” I echo Ruiz, but mine is more an order than a tease.
Kiera gapes at me. “You’re out of your fucking mind.”
“As you said, you did the job.” Ruiz pats my shoulder, ignoring Kiera. “And she forgave you. That was classy.”
I hear Enya’s last words again, and once again, they cut through me.
“She means it.” I run a weary hand over my face. “She did forgive me, you know.”
“I know,” Ruiz agrees.
Kiera growls, her expression already loaded with disdain. “Look at you two, getting all sentimental. What’s next—group therapy? Should we hold hands and sing ‘Kumbaya?’”
Ruiz doesn’t take the bait. “Kiera, she held us accountable. And she walked out with more dignity than”—he gives her a pointed look—“most people I know.”
Kiera lets out a long, exasperated noise. “Why don’t you both start the Enya Cahill fan club!”
I don’t blame Kiera for her acidity because she’s never seen us behave this way. But then we’ve never had to taint the innocence of a woman like Enya.
“Kiera, cut the ‘I’m the biggest bitch in the room’ routine,’” Ruiz snaps. “We don’t get to pretend this was clean. That woman lost something she can’t get back.”
Kiera scoffs. “We all lose things on the job.”
Ruiz’s gaze sharpens. “Not like that.” He shoulders past her, pausing at the door. “I hope you can sit with that and feel it.”
Kiera arches an eyebrow. “Why?”
“Because without a conscience, darling, we’re all pretty well fucked,” he replies and walks out.
The door shuts behind him.
Kiera studies me like I’m a curiosity. “You’re compromised.”
I laugh under my breath. It sounds broken. “I’m human.”
“That’s worse,” she says coolly. “Humans hesitate.”
“Well, then maybe it’s time for me to quit.” The words are out, unplanned and unpracticed, and yet, they feel right.
Is it really time for me to leave?
“Because of her?” Kiera grabs my chin, forcing me to look at her.
“No.” I move away from her touch. “Because I hurt a woman who loves me, and as a human being, that pains me.”
