“What I do is not for everyone.” He frowned and looked ahead. “It shouldn’t be for anyone.”
“Then why do you do it?” The question popped out of my mouth before I could think twice.
“Because I’m good at it.” His jaw tightened. “And sometimes it needs to be done.”
We pushed out the door and stepped onto the sidewalk. A cool breeze whipped my hair around my face and I pulled out a rubber band to secure it.
Owen led us to an entrance to the Tube, the underground subway that ran through the city. People commuting to work and running various errands rushed to and fro, while a baby cried in the background. An electronic advertisement on the wall flashed images of couples drinking in a pub, with a catchy tagline scrolling underneath. I was jealous of the normalcy all around me, but at least I had Owen by my side.
I stuck close to my new friend, unaware of exactly where we were going or how we would get there. I hadn’t ridden the Tube much since coming to London, preferring to walk and take in the city. The maps of different colored lines were like a foreign language that I was slowly learning to decode.
“This way.” Owen placed a hand on my shoulder and turned me down a bright hallway.
“You haven’t told me where we’re going?” We stopped at a platform with only a few people. I scratched at my back in an attempt to adjust the gun into a more comfortable position. It was rubbing a sore spot along my waist.
“Stop fidgeting.” He frowned at me.
“I can’t. The thing is rubbing me raw.” I shifted my shoulder. “I’m going to get a blister.”
Stepping behind me he ran his hands over my shoulders, squeezing gently as if massaging me. His hands slid lower in circles until he was kneading my lower back. My eyes threatened to close as he worked. If I’d been a cat I would have purred in pleasure, but I managed to control myself. His hands closed around my waist, while his thumbs pushed at the gun until it was sitting in a different spot.
“Better?” His breath teased the few loose strands of my hair.
I looked up into his eyes and nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Why did he affect me so much? This man, this self-confessed murderer, turned me to whimpering mush. Well, not whimpering. I wasn’t whimpering. Yet. But I was starting to feel a bit mush-like.
“Ava, you have to stop looking at me like that.” He pressed closer to me, his eyes dipping down to my mouth. The heat of his body washed over my back and I leaned into it, drawn like a moth to flame.
“Like what?” I licked my lips and my breathing hitched.
“Like you want me to kiss you, love.” One of his hands left my waist and drifted up to cup my chin, tilting my head a little more in his direction. Tilting his head down, his lips barely brushed against mine as he looked into my eyes. “I’m not the type of man you should want to kiss.”
“Why not?” I ached to kiss him, to feel his breath mingle with mine, but it was more than just a physical need. I also wanted to banish the lonely darkness that swirled in the back of his eyes. As much as he was protecting me, I felt this urge to take care of him.
The rumble of the subway car broke our connection and he let go of me like I was a hot piece of coal.
“Our ride.” He motioned for me to enter the car ahead of him.
I took a spot near the door and grasped one of the hand rails. I was feeling too antsy from the almost-kiss to sit down; too confused to sit calmly next to him while I waited for our stop. Wherever that was.
“Where are we going?”
“Notting Hill.” His voice rumbled close to my ear.
“Oh, good. That was on my list of places to visit.” I gripped the hand rail a little tighter. Of course I had wanted to see the Portobello market, not hunt down the man that had tried to kill me. Life certainly had changed my plans.
I HADN’T BEEN to Notting Hill in years. I hadn’t seen my brother in years. I hadn’t cared about it for years. We weren’t exactly worried about trading presents for holidays or birthdays. Of course, I hadn’t realized we’d gotten to the point where we were trying to kill each other. If I’d known, I would have sent a card at Christmas.
When we stepped out of the station, Ava seemed to reenergize. She had been quiet for most of the trip, the wheels turning behind her eyes as she mulled over something. But when she saw the crowds, the bright colors and laughing people, her face brightened. As we passed the pubs and little shops, I was thankful for the crowds. It would make it easier to go unnoticed. I hadn’t told Ava much about my plan because I didn’t want to worry her.
I knew that my brother would be waiting for me. He may not know when I would be coming or how I would arrive, but he wouldn’t doubt that I would make an appearance at some point. Today I was planning on doing research. I needed to know who he had guarding him, because he wouldn’t just be hanging around in the sitting room, biscuits and tea at the ready.
Ava stopped at a small stall and looked through a basket of jewelry. She picked up a small broach and asked the craftsman a couple of questions. The old man smiled, all too happy to talk trade with someone interested. I listened while they chatted, but kept a careful lookout for anyone that might recognize either of us. It would be common knowledge at this point that Ava was with me, so they’d be looking for a couple. Still, as a couple shopping, we’d be less likely to be noticed.
“What do you think, Owen?” Ava turned to me and held up the broach. The silver wire was worked into a bow. Smiling she lifted the pin to the base of her throat like a bowtie. “Isn’t that brilliant?”