you?” she asked, gesturing with her paper cup.
“What, having coffee? Relaxing?”
Her attention swung back to me. The unfiltered realness of her question balanced between us. “Yeah. All of that.”
Toying with the lid of my cup, I smiled thoughtfully. “Not at all. If anything is weird, it's... how natural it feels. Spending time with you feels right, no matter how we do it.”
“Hunting, stalking, and coffee. They all go so well together.”
I laughed helplessly. She lifted my mood so easily. “I guess we've been doing a lot of intense stuff.”
Inquiring eyes roamed my face. “Well, what do you do besides clean your gun and flirt with innocent girls?”
“Innocent? You?” I teased.
“Not me,” she playfully gasped. “Wait, are you saying you are flirting with me?”
“You'll know when I flirt.” Narrowing my eyes, I ran my toe along her ankle under the table. Her parted lips were intoxicating. “What do I do besides clean and flirt?” The more I chased an answer, the more my smile faded. I'd been pondering this before Marina had bumped into me. Nameless girls and forgotten hours. Whiskey for breakfast, polishing my Ruger every chance I got...
The closer I got to her, the less I thought about my old addictions. The man who had lost a purpose without contracts to fulfill... that had been me. For months, that had been who I was.
Who was I now?
“You okay?” She was staring at me, genuine worry etched in her features.
Reaching out, I placed a hand on hers and felt her fingers spasm. She hadn't been ready for me to touch her. Definitely not ready for me to link my hold and squeeze. “Everything that I used to do for fun in the past is just that. The past. It doesn't matter now.”
Marina's mouth went slack. Every line vanished from her pretty face. When she spoke, it was a hush so quiet I had to read her lips. “What does matter?”
The simple word was so close to spilling down my tongue. You. God, what a word. I couldn't do it. Admitting my feelings was unfair for both of us. I couldn't torture her or me with something that might never happen. Until I was sure that Marina would live—that she'd pass the test of trust—I just couldn't say it. Even so, I knew the fucking truth.
Marina was what mattered to me now.
She held my hand for a long while. Under the table, her boot rubbed my calf. It was forward and comforting all combined. I wanted more of this side of her, but she had other ideas. “The past,” she whispered. “I want to know more about it. About you, where you come from and who you are.”
Well. That was a mood killer. Pulling my hand away, I gripped my cup so tight the edges crinkled. “Sorry, but no. It's not a tale worth telling.” It's one I want to forget and never can.
There was no hiding the anger that danced through her eyes. Amazingly, she took a slow breath and sighed. “I think that's unfair, you know mine. Why don't you tell me something? A tiny something. Your first contract, what about that?”
Tapping my foot, I turned my cup in a circle. It was hard to stop fidgeting. “You know one of my kills—”
“Two,” she said, waggling her fingers. “Culver and Frank.”
“Right, sorry.” Fuck, Marina did know a lot. Was this worse, giving her more information? No, I told myself. As bad as it is, she has enough info to put me and Jacob away already. More won't hurt. She's either alive at the end of this, or she takes our secrets to her grave.
This was becoming a morose date. I washed my mouth out with some coffee. “I guess it's safe to tell you. It's less grizzly than Culver's death.” Pushing the cup from one hand to the next, I studied her. When I'd told her about the contract that had gone wrong, it had been a cautionary tale. I'd wanted to scare her. For her to grasp how fucked up what we did was. She had been acting like this was a game, or a movie. Marina didn't understand. This girl had never killed anyone.
“Daisy,” I said, wincing at the
“What, having coffee? Relaxing?”
Her attention swung back to me. The unfiltered realness of her question balanced between us. “Yeah. All of that.”
Toying with the lid of my cup, I smiled thoughtfully. “Not at all. If anything is weird, it's... how natural it feels. Spending time with you feels right, no matter how we do it.”
“Hunting, stalking, and coffee. They all go so well together.”
I laughed helplessly. She lifted my mood so easily. “I guess we've been doing a lot of intense stuff.”
Inquiring eyes roamed my face. “Well, what do you do besides clean your gun and flirt with innocent girls?”
“Innocent? You?” I teased.
“Not me,” she playfully gasped. “Wait, are you saying you are flirting with me?”
“You'll know when I flirt.” Narrowing my eyes, I ran my toe along her ankle under the table. Her parted lips were intoxicating. “What do I do besides clean and flirt?” The more I chased an answer, the more my smile faded. I'd been pondering this before Marina had bumped into me. Nameless girls and forgotten hours. Whiskey for breakfast, polishing my Ruger every chance I got...
The closer I got to her, the less I thought about my old addictions. The man who had lost a purpose without contracts to fulfill... that had been me. For months, that had been who I was.
Who was I now?
“You okay?” She was staring at me, genuine worry etched in her features.
Reaching out, I placed a hand on hers and felt her fingers spasm. She hadn't been ready for me to touch her. Definitely not ready for me to link my hold and squeeze. “Everything that I used to do for fun in the past is just that. The past. It doesn't matter now.”
Marina's mouth went slack. Every line vanished from her pretty face. When she spoke, it was a hush so quiet I had to read her lips. “What does matter?”
The simple word was so close to spilling down my tongue. You. God, what a word. I couldn't do it. Admitting my feelings was unfair for both of us. I couldn't torture her or me with something that might never happen. Until I was sure that Marina would live—that she'd pass the test of trust—I just couldn't say it. Even so, I knew the fucking truth.
Marina was what mattered to me now.
She held my hand for a long while. Under the table, her boot rubbed my calf. It was forward and comforting all combined. I wanted more of this side of her, but she had other ideas. “The past,” she whispered. “I want to know more about it. About you, where you come from and who you are.”
Well. That was a mood killer. Pulling my hand away, I gripped my cup so tight the edges crinkled. “Sorry, but no. It's not a tale worth telling.” It's one I want to forget and never can.
There was no hiding the anger that danced through her eyes. Amazingly, she took a slow breath and sighed. “I think that's unfair, you know mine. Why don't you tell me something? A tiny something. Your first contract, what about that?”
Tapping my foot, I turned my cup in a circle. It was hard to stop fidgeting. “You know one of my kills—”
“Two,” she said, waggling her fingers. “Culver and Frank.”
“Right, sorry.” Fuck, Marina did know a lot. Was this worse, giving her more information? No, I told myself. As bad as it is, she has enough info to put me and Jacob away already. More won't hurt. She's either alive at the end of this, or she takes our secrets to her grave.
This was becoming a morose date. I washed my mouth out with some coffee. “I guess it's safe to tell you. It's less grizzly than Culver's death.” Pushing the cup from one hand to the next, I studied her. When I'd told her about the contract that had gone wrong, it had been a cautionary tale. I'd wanted to scare her. For her to grasp how fucked up what we did was. She had been acting like this was a game, or a movie. Marina didn't understand. This girl had never killed anyone.
“Daisy,” I said, wincing at the
Similar Books
