“Like killing people?”
He squinted. It wasn’t intimidating. “You got some weird fetish for murder?”
Wouldn’t that make me a serial killer?Oh my god, washea serial killer?
Grunting, he made a face and pointed to mine with his free hand. “What’s that face you’re making? I don’t like it.”
“Are you a serial killer?”
He scoffed like that was stupid. “I’ve killed more than any lame serial killer.”
“So you’re worse than a serial killer?” I surmised. And if so, why was I still happier than a clam to be sitting there with his fingers plugging his cum in my ass?
“I only kill when it needs to be done. But I do other stuff too, like recon and information retrieval. I’m very good at getting in and out of places without being seen.”
“That’s why everyone calls you Ghost.”
“Youcalled me Ghost back there,” he observed, cocking his head to the side. His strong brows perfectly framed those scrutinizing deep-umber irises. His Asian-American features blended perfectly, creating a face—an entire vibe—that was carved from contrast. A man made of sharp lines and soft edges in all the perfect places.
“Because I didn’t want Tommy to know your real name.”
His features tightened. “Because you’re scared of him?”
“Because you’remyHiro.”
“Territorial,” he mused. “I dig it.”
I’m glad someone did because my being this proprietary over him was pure stupidity on my part.
But there was really no point in denying it anymore. Clearly, I had a penchant for bad boys. Which explained my reading habitssowell.
“So that dude who looks like he moisturizes with motor oil, his name is Tommy?”
It was an accurate description. He did look greasy. I nodded my head.
“Tommy what?”
I shrugged. I only knew him by Tommy.
He sighed dramatically. “You have the observation skills of a bat during daylight saving time.”
I wasn’t really sure what that meant. Weren’t bats blind, so would it really matter what time of day it was? In any case, it seemed like an insult. Besides, what was I supposed to do, ask for his ID while I was asking for pills?
“Well, you have the tact of a car alarm at three a.m.,” I countered.Good one!
“Living around here, that’s probably a sound you know well,” he mumbled.
I didn’t bother pointing out that people around here could barely afford a car, let alone one with an alarm. It only proved his point.
Verbally sparring with him was a lot of work.
“So I take it you aren’t friends with motor oil head? And that’s why he helped himself to your apartment.”
I gasped, remembering Tommy had been alone in here for God knew how long.
I jolted up, but Hiro’s hand tightened around my hip. “Easy.”
“I need to check something.” Actually, I needed to check a lot of things.
