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I bet no one has ever called him beautiful before, except me, and yes, I mean it.

And yes, I’ve screwed it up.

“If you actually thought that, you would have told me the truth. You can’t have it both ways: sent to kill me and lying to me about it, but, ‘oh, golly, he’s such a nice guy,’” Lazarus mimics my voice in the most unflattering way as he throws me away from himself. Back on the bed.

When I rise this time, I grab his collar and haul for all I’m worth. I’ve moved a body before. I’m injured, but there are assassin muscles underneath my bruises. When I yank, he looks surprised that he moves. Then his lips crash into mine.

This is not what I wanted it to feel like, but it’s so good, like the way whiskey burns on raw, overwrought nerves when you know you’re going to get drunk enough to pass out and forget everything.

His snarl fades—and he bites. Bites lightly at my throat, and I hold onto him, ignoring the pinch as I wrap my stronger leg around his.

“You can’t trick me like this,” he hisses, but he doesn’t let go.

“Not tricking. Fighting,” I grind out—and grind to him. “You can hate me now, and forgive me later. ‘Cause I’ll be proving it. I can prove it,” I whisper, head back, eyes closed, feeling the way his hands lift my ass and settle my pussy closer to the erection that’s not supposed to be there. That wouldn’t be there if there wasn’t a chance he could learn to trust me one day. Right?

“You came into my home. Messed with the people I call family.” His fingers dig into my arms, but don’t pry me off. They dig down. Claw my back, lift me higher, so that my legs naturally hug his waist, and my crotch is pressed to his.

“You didn’t even have them until you ran away. I’m running now.”

“Pazcuso knows where to find me. How do I know you didn’t call him right after I left—”

“I did. Told him he messed everything up with his call, and I was working a different angle, infiltrating your home and your heart, because how else could I win when you’re a human tank that bullets and blades don’t stop?” My hand yanks at his waistband as his fist rips away the faded old tank top that serves as my pajama top.

“What?” Laz pulls back from me, horrified, traces of crimson on his lips, glinting on his cheek.

“I’m telling you the truth. I told him not to even think of hearing the job was done until February. I bought myself some time to get away. To figure this out.”

“How do I know that’s the truth? How do I know this isn’t part of the plan you told him about?” he hisses, and his eyes shudder closed when my hand slides inside the zipper I’ve jerked open. Slick and solid, hard, hotter than the rest of him.

“Because I’m proving it.”

“This doesn’t prove anything!” Lazarus slaps my hand away, but the grunt in his breathing means he likes it.

“It proves you like this. Like me. Want me.”

“It proves my fucking wires are crossed. That I did want you. I don’t now, not anymore. If you want to run, then run. You bought yourself time, so use it.”

I let out a screech when I’m dropped back to the bed, and Lazarus backs away, shaking himself like someone trying to clear their head after too long underwater.

“If I don’t kill you, he’ll come after me. If I run—I’m not going to be safe. This is the safe place. You are safe with me, and I’m safe with you,” I plead, wrapping my arms across my bare chest.

“No, you’re not! I bit you. I was going to... I was going to do bad things with you.”

“With me. Not to me. Don’t think there’s not a difference, because there is. And you didn’t bite hard enough that I minded. You are a good one, Lazarus, and I want to be. Don’t you see how sick and twisted this is? Knowing you for a week has made me rethink my life, believe I can have something better—if you’re with me.”

For a moment, I think he buys it.

I’m buying it. I don’t like saying this, all of this stuff that gives him power and leverage, that reveals something other than icy numbness and methodical attention to my task of dispatching the worst men walking this earth.

“You lied once. And this could be more lies. You made me start falling for you. I started thinking,” Lazarus swallows loud enough for me to hear the click of his throat in the pause that fills my borrowed room. “Poor, stupid, ugly monster. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. You need to leave. This place. This town. My family. Leave. All of it. By the time I’m here for work.”

“Rhea is counting on me! And... And yeah, I lied. I lie all the time. It’s survival.” I grab the pillow and limp after Lazarus as he turns. “But I won’t lie anymore. Not to either of them, not to you. I can prove—”

A fist reaches out and punches the air inches from my head, so fast and close that my hair flies back and then settles against my neck.

We lock eyes.

“I gave you a chance. I’m believing you, even though I saw... Even though I saw the worst of you. You’ve seen the worst of me. I thought you didn’t mind if I was your monster,” I whisper, throat tight with fear and something I thought I’d never feel again.