The Fall(25)

“Good thing you didn’t unpack.” My head nodded to her duffle on the floor and the overnight bag beside the bed, all her shit still zipped up inside.

“That’s the first time you’ve spoken to me like a person instead of a prisoner, thank you.” Her voice was softer than it usually was, a nod of appreciation shot in my general direction.

“Don’t get all Oprah on me.” I hoped like hell she wasn’t going to pick now to start with the tears. She was right. My mood had definitely thawed and I’d told her a lot more than I usually allowed. But I didn’t like that shit pointed out. Or worse, let her believe I was nice.

“As you said, you haven’t tried to get away and other than being a f*cking pain in my ass and running that mouth of yours, you have done what I’ve asked. But make no mistake,” I warned, wanting her to know we weren’t going to be suddenly holding hands and splitting an order of f*cking fries. “This isn’t about me trusting you, or us being friends. It’s about hoping you’ll be less of a f*cking pill.”

“You could have just nodded and left.” Her fists at her side tightened, the edge her voice that had been missing was no longer MIA. “You don’t have to be an * every time you open your mouth to remind me how much we’re not friends. I didn’t develop amnesia. I can recall that all by myself.”

“I am an *, Sofia. It’s the only way I know how to be.” I moved closer, my feet closing the distance between us. The clarification for her to understand exactly what kind of man I was and remind myself in the same breath. “It’s kept me alive, and if you’re lucky, it will do the same for you.” I leaned forward, enjoying the fact that if she took another step her back was going to be up against the wall with no way out. “So don’t think my attitude is for your benefit. You would be wrongly assuming I care about your feelings, in any way.”

“When do we leave?” she asked, and to her credit, she held her ground. The only hint that she was uncomfortable was the way her hand reached up and fingered the cross that hung around her neck.

Great, she probably believed there was a hipster who wore a sheet and sat up in the clouds passing out free wishes if you said enough Hail Mary’s. Because that makes any kind of sense; that an unknown entity had any power over anything other than scratching his own ass.

Religion.

It killed more men than drugs and was a hell of a lot more dangerous. At least when you injected heroin into your arm you knew what you were getting. Planting your knees on the floor did nothing but prove you believed in fairytales.

“I said, when do—”

“I heard you the first time.” I cut her off not needing the replay. “I was just hoping you were smarter than the herd.” My head nodded to her hand still up around her throat.

“There is nothing wrong with having faith.” She lowered her hand like she had suddenly become aware of it. “Everyone will face judgment. If not in this world, then the next.”

I laughed.

I couldn’t help it. My body convulsed even more when I saw how serious she was. I thought she had more sense than that, and the hatred I had for those *s and everything they stood for ran deep. Because blindly believing in something was more dangerous than anything in the world. Giving people false hope that shit would get better. Made you wonder what the f*ck you did wrong when that miracle didn’t come. There was no one up in the clouds listening, no one who cared and no one who was ever going to give you a free pass. They were thugs, just as much as the next guy. Playing on people’s fears to get them to conform. And I would never be intimidated by an institution that didn’t care about anyone but themselves.

Yet, she somehow figured I was accountable to someone other than myself. And I was going to have to eventually stand in front of some f*cktard with a clipboard to see if I measured up.

No wonder the human race was failing; the dipshits believed any lie they were told. Being saved, numero uno.

“You have fun with that.” I wiped the tears from my eyes, the laugh the best I’d had in a while. “We’re rolling out in two hours and we probably won’t be coming back. Make sure whatever you need is ready to go, would hate for you to have left a pack of tampons, or your judgment, behind.”

I didn’t wait for a response, walking back to my closet and grabbing out a large black duffle, pulling clothes off hangers and shoving them inside as I went.

She didn’t stay and watch, grabbing a spare clip of ammo on the nightstand and collecting her bags. Hefting the straps onto each shoulder—she didn’t ask for help and I didn’t offer—she carried her stuff out of the room and presumably downstairs. Well, at least she was efficient.

It didn’t take me long to be ready to bug out. It was a necessary skill to be ready to go at a moment’s notice. But I took a little longer than usual, making sure my head was in the game. As much as I didn’t like to admit it, she had gotten under my skin. I didn’t like that. Not even a bit. So I needed to remind myself where my focus was. She was just another job and would be gone soon.

Killing the bedroom light with one hand, the other hauling my duffle, I moved out of the doorway and back downstairs.

She was at the base of the stairs, her dark hair pulled off of her face, tapping her foot like she’d been waiting on me. The two bags she had were stacked beside her and next to that she had an old cooler that I kept down in the basement. She must have seen it when she’d spent some time down there earlier and brought it up. Though its appearance with the luggage was still a mystery.