Page 57 of Unexpected Complication

“No. I want to do something else. Maybe work with Sean and open a new business. Something with fewer guns.” I paused and cleared my throat. “I’m tired of blood.”

She glanced up at me, worrying her lip.

“Ask me,” I pleaded. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Do you do that…a lot?”

“Do what?”

Her voice was barely a whisper. “Kill people?”

I shifted uncomfortably. This was the part I didn’t want her to know. I could barely live with it myself. I wasn’t sure she could forgive me. “I’ve had to prove myself to Orson, Skylar. Show he can trust me.”

“Did you know when you went in you’d have to do that?”

“Yes.”

“Were they bad people?”

“Yeah, they were.” I shut my eyes. “It doesn’t make it easier, though. I thought it would. But taking someone’s life—it stays with you. No matter what.”

“Will you be in trouble after?”

“No. There was an agreement. Sean made me get it in writing. I’m safe. Once this is done, I’m free. There’ll be no repercussions.”

“Can you?” she whispered. “Can you leave this behind?”

My response was firm. “Yes.”

She still looked worried, and I understood her fears. She’d already had so much loss in her life. Now, she was afraid of losing me.

“I want a life, Skylar. I want a house and kids. I want to come home every night and be around every weekend. Go on family trips and have friends over for a barbecue on holidays. I want normal. I want what Sean tried so hard to give me.” I kissed her forehead. “I want that with you, Kitten.”

“How can you be so sure?”

I didn’t know how to tell her. How to explain to her that it was something I knew instinctively. The moment I pulled her out of that fort made from cardboard boxes and looked into her eyes. I had to be the one who cared for her and protected her—no matter what.

“I just am.” I rubbed her back in long, slow strokes. “Do you think that maybe you could feel the same way?” I drew in a deep breath. “I want to take care of you, Skylar. I’d be good to you—we’d have a great life together. I promise you.”

“I want to take care of you too.”

“That doesn’t include any more drugged soup, does it?”

“Only when you piss me off.”

I brushed my lips over hers. “I’ll hire a taste taster, then. I have a feeling I’m gonna piss you off a lot.”

She pulled my mouth back to hers.

“I hope so.”

The kitchen was dark as I sat at the table, sipping a cup of coffee. The only light was the dim bulb over the stove, which threw more shadows than actual light. Hearing heavy footsteps, I looked up to see Sean in the doorway.

“Hey.”

With a grunt, he pushed off the frame, grabbing a cup and sitting beside me. He swallowed the strong brew with a grimace.

“Jesus, Cian. I taught you how to make proper coffee when you were thirteen. This is like fucking tar.”