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An arm on her
STRANGER
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I HAVE NO IDEA how much she saw, how much she read, how much she knows.
I don’t usually fuck up. I’m not that guy. I don’t make mistakes.
But this, right now... Jesus.
I fucked everything up.
I scrub my hands through my hair and stare at her gobsmacked face. She looks like she’s just been hit by an airbus, skin pale, mouth drawn in. She must be thinking things like stalker and crazy.
But killer is so much worse.
She rocks back on her heels, her eyes wide, her shoulders rigid, her fingers clenched at the belt of her robe.
There isn’t a single thing about this situation I like, least of all the guilt. The shame. The self-loathing.
I fucking hate emotions. It’s so much better to ignore them.
But Mia doesn’t let me. She never does. It’s like she woke me up to everything, a whole world of shit I want and need and feel, and now I can’t silence it anymore.
And I see it so clearly, what I allowed myself to become, a contract killer, a heartless asshole, a guy who insinuated himself into her life and liked it so much, he stayed, soaked in lies and drenched in secrets.
I don’t want her to know that side of me. I want her only to know the me that laughs and hikes and cooks with her. The me that’s fun and happy. The me who smiles and writes and makes love with her and plans for a ridiculous future he has no right to want.
This is my fault. All of it. Everything. I should never have gotten this close to her. I should have left her alone when I felt myself getting involved.
Gogo paces, her nails ticking out an anxious beat on the floor. She senses the wrongness of this.
I close my eyes. My subconscious is sabotaging me. I left the computer out, forgot to close it up, put it away. I told her my fucking passwords long ago. It’s like I wanted this to happen, wanted Mia to know the truth, dare her to love me anyway. I set these dominos in motion, and with every click, I brought us here. Right now.
Sink or swim, Stranger.
For a minute, it’s like I’m right back in the group home, facing down a pack of kids bigger than me, stronger than me. Fight or flight?
I’m in basic, haven’t slept in days. The sergeant is screaming at me, spit flying, and I’m tired. So tired. Lift your weapon, soldier. What are you going to do?
Whatever you have to do.
Now, soldier.
And then later, I’m there, facing my first hit. A five hundred-yard shot with a long-range sniper rifle. Now, soldier. The mark fell with a spray of red. How did I get here?
I shake my head.
I got here the same way I’ve always gotten anywhere. I sink or swim.
“You knew!” she screams. “You planned it this way.”
I can’t deny that. I did set Jeremy up to see me naked in her apartment. For what? A chance to rip him from her life for good?
Yes.
So, she’d have no one else but me?
I don’t know. Maybe?
It was nothing but selfishness.
And I’d do it again to keep her away from that useless shitbag.
Even if the price is her trust.
Because I care. I care so fucking much my chest tightens and I can’t breathe.
Her hands rise from the belt to touch her cheeks. Her chest is rising. She stares at me like she’s never seen me before.
The door slams. Dixon is gone.
I shake my head, try to clear away visions of bodies piling high, blood and guts and shame. So much shame.
And under it, despite everything, I’m still ass enough to feel a moment of satisfaction. Dixon, that pathetic fuck will never come near her again, making her feel bad about herself, preying on her sympathies, using her.
She had two assholes in her life.
Now... she has none.
I glance back at her just in time to see my computer come flying at my face.
I catch it before it hits me smack in the nose. Barely.
She’s got an arm on her.
“Mia...” I hesitate. Mia what?
What the fuck can I say?
Sink or swim. Fight or die.
Speak.
But I don’t.
Gogo hides behind the sofa, cowering. She isn’t used to shouting or loud noises in general. She isn’t used to seeing me so off kilter.
Mia’s face twists, like a kid trying to decide whether or not to cry. After a second she spreads her hands wide. “Mia what? What were you going to say, Stranger? It’s not what it seems? You’ve got it wrong. Trust me?” Her lips shake, her chin wobbling, but her voice is strong and firm and powerful. “I think it’s exactly what it seems. You wanted Jeremy gone from my life. And now he is.”
I nod tightly.
“Why?” she whispers it, and my chest clenches.
I stare back for a long time, going through my options. Because he might want you dead? Because someone wants you dead. Because he sucks. Because I don’t fucking want him near you. Because I can’t let you die. I can’t live without you.
Jesus. When did that happen.
I settle on the truest statement of all. Hopefully the only one that really matters, words I’m not sure I’ve ever said in my whole life. “Because I love you.”
Her nostrils flare. Wrong thing to say.
“You love me? You don’t love me. You’re a liar.”
I can’t argue.
It’s true. I am a liar, but lying is the least of my sins.
She steps toward me. “Who the fuck are you? A lying, conniving, manipulative, stalking, crazy, kinda hot internet stranger?”
Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Maybe. Maybe. Yes.
I’ve never seen Mia in a temper. She is a force to be reckoned with. She’s confident, undeterred, erudite in her rage, and if she’s afraid of this man she suddenly doesn’t trust, naked in her home—she isn’t showing it.
I’m proud of her.
“Were you even in the military?”
“Yes.”
She doesn’t make a move toward the wallet. “And now? What are you?”
For a moment, her eyes fill with something that looks like home.
“Are you undercover FBI? Looking into Jeremy?” Her voice breaks, and her face crumples. “Mafia? Are you crazy, Stranger? Are you stalking me?”
I take a deep breath. “I know it looks bad, Mia. I’m not crazy. And I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m trying to protect you.”
“From who? Why? What the hell do you do?”
I can’t answer that. Or maybe I could. But I don’t, I just sink into a silence so thick I’m drowning.
She must feel it too, because after a long pause, she slides down into the silly pink chair. “Just go.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, take a long deep breath. “Please. You don’t understand. It’s not safe. I can’t leave you alone.”
She laughs, short and hard. There’s an edge to Mia I haven’t seen before. She’s sweet, but she’s so much more.
And there is nothing I can say.
I’m a contract killer.
Someone hired me to kill you. Maybe your dad.
I won’t do it though, I promise.
I need to find them.
So, I settle for another truth. “I just want to keep you safe.”
She turns her back on me. “Leave.”
Short of tying her up and holding her hostage until I find Ender—and I’m not willing to do any of those things—I don’t have any choice.
I grab my shit like a dog with her tail tucked between her legs, and walk out the door, Gogo close on my heels.
I close the door gently and listen on the other side. Maybe I expected to hear screaming or crying or ranting, but I don’t.
I hear nothing. So I dress in the hall, yanking on my pants and stepping into my boots, tuck my computer under my arm and leave. What choice do I have?
Striding down the hall, I pull my phone from my pocket and call James.
Mia doesn’t have to be with me.
I can handle that.
But she does have to be alive.