Come
Page 13“Or what?” he prods. “Or turn you into something else.” I look up and he smiles. “That’s it, right? They might turn you into me. You have skills, little lionfish? Is diving off piers and fighting assassins just another day to you? Your code name might be Come, but you wanted to be Soldier, and look… now you are. All grown up. Dangerous. Lethal, they called you. They told me you were a lethal little soldier and I should stay far, far away. Call for reinforcements.”
“Then why didn’t you?” I snap.
“Because you are not my target. I’m not here for you.”
“Then tell me why you’re here.” I challenge. “I want to know now.”
He smirks at me and shakes his head.
I snatch the key from his hand and unlock the door. When he doesn’t stop me, I twist the handle and open it. Then I look over my shoulder. And that hesitation is my turning point. Because his mouth finds mine. Not hard and rough like an assassin, or soft and sweet like he’s caring for a child.
But something in between.
A man kissing a woman.
“I’m here for you, Harper. I want you.”
That spot between my legs wants him too. But my brain is scared out of my mind. I push him back. “No.” He sighs and removes his hand so he can step back a few paces. “I’m not ready.” His chuckle irritates me, like he already knew that. Like I’m just a girl who teases men and then gives them nothing. “I’m not like that,” I say aloud, building my case for his silent accusation. “I’m not a tease. I just…” I have nothing. So I demand the one thing I know I can’t have to cover for my insecurities. “I need to know you better first.”
I get a crooked smile in response. “You want to know if I like it rough? That answer is yes. If I take you, I’ll take you my way.”
“What? No!” I let out an uncomfortable laugh. “That’s not what I meant.”
“You really want to know why I’m here?” He crosses his arms and leans back on his heels a bit.
I lift my chin and meet his gaze. “Yes,” I say. “Yes, I need that info or I can’t be with you.”
He laughs at my childish demand. “Of course, little lionfish. You are the pretty girl with the poison daggers poking through her skin. You ask for the one thing you know you can’t have to send me away. Right?”
He grabs hold of my waist again and pulls me into his chest. My arms go around his neck automatically, like I already belong to him. And then he leans into my ear and whispers, “I killed my brother, Harper. I killed Number Five. I shot him in the head and then I poisoned a man to settle a debt for f**king up that job I mentioned in Europe. I’m allowed to kill people if I need to. And I needed to kill both these people. But my bosses were not happy about it. They said I failed the psych evaluation when I came in for the debrief. They said I’m a danger to them, myself, and the world. But since they’ve spent the past twenty years training me to kill, they can hardly blame me for a one-time indiscretion. As long as it was just a single incident. They said I could unwind at the beach. They wanted to see if some downtime would help—take the edge off.”
I turn my head and look him in the face. His expression is hard even though his words stayed soft. His eyes are squinting, the frown lines on his forehead more pronounced, his jaw tensed as he waits for my reaction.
“Is that what you wanted to hear, Harper?”
I nod up at him. “Yes. Thank you.” He pushes me away and starts walking down the hallway. “Wait!”
He doesn’t wait, just turns the corner at the little mechanical room. My feet are in motion as I chase after him.
“Wait!” I pull on his arm and he stops outside the open door to the laundry room. The dryer beeps, signaling that someone’s load is complete. “Where are you going?” My heart is suddenly beating fast at the thought of him walking away.
I get a sideways glance this time. Not his full attention. The glance that says I’m leaving. “I shouldn’t have told you that, I’m sorry.”
He sighs and does a few little headshakes, like he’s having some kind of internal debate. “That night you took those Ativan, I was on the phone with you?”
He waits, so I answer with, “Yeah?”
“You said, ‘You don’t want to know me… I’m no one.’” He turns to face me head-on now, his expression blank, his mouth a flat line. His eyes impassive and empty. I can see it now. This is a killer’s face. The dimples are hiding underneath the frown. The emotionless facade of a hardened assassin. A man who sees death as nothing personal, just a job to be completed.
“But you’re wrong, Harp. I’m the invisible one. You’re a beacon in the dark as far as I’m concerned. I’m the unknowable one. And if you were my contract, I would kill you.” He stares down at me with those impassive, cold, businesslike green eyes. “Just as sure as I did my brother. Because that’s what I do. That’s who I am. You might have all the moves, but you have none of the venom, angelfish.”
He turns to walk away but I grab him again. “You wouldn’t kill me—”