Lies(43)

I do as asked. “I shot someone too. I killed Badger.”

“Yeah. But he was a bad person who needed shooting.” He tugs off a boot, followed by a sock. Then moves on to the other foot. “You were defending yourself, Betty. He would have killed you. He’d already tried to kill us before by leaking our address to set up the bomb in our house.”

“Mm.”

“He was a hired mercenary, fully prepared to take out innocent people for no reason other than money.” He lifts the hem of my tee, giving me a brief smile. “Arms up.”

With my arms in the air, I say, “I don’t think anyone’s undressed me since I was a child.”

“I undress you constantly in my mind, if that counts. Stand up.” He tugs on my hand and I let him draw me back onto my feet. Next he deals with the button and zip on my black jeans, easing them down my legs. The fabric is stiff with blood below the knee. It’s a relief to get out of them. “Lift your leg.”

“I don’t have anything else to wear.”

Both of us ignore the red-brown stain of another person’s blood on my shin. I stand there in my underwear, too dazed to feel exposed. Besides, he’s seen it all before. “I’ll get them washed for you. Don’t worry.”

Next he leads me into the bathroom, turning on the shower, testing the water with his hand. No previous lovers, or other such types have looked after me this way. Tended to me. Is this love? The need to look after your chosen person? The desire to be close to them? I guess so. At least, it’s got to be close to resembling the sentiment. Maybe he wasn’t lying about his feelings all this time. Maybe I’m lying about mine now.

“Let’s get this off you,” he says, reaching around to undo my black bra.

“I know there’s work to do, but can you stay with me for a little while?” I fist my hands in his shirt, needing the contact. Right now, he has a much better grip on the world than I. I’m spiraling. Free falling.

“Sure.”

“Thank you. I just…I don’t know.”

He doesn’t say anything, but nods in understanding.

Once my underwear is gone, he tears off his own shirt, toes off his shoes. He gets naked much faster than I could ever manage. Another one of his useful skills. He takes my hand and backs into the shower, water sliding over his skin. “Come on in here so you don’t get cold.”

The spray of water wakes me a little, breathes a bit of life back into me. How is it I’d killed someone, yet feel like a part of myself has died? A bit of my innocence maybe. I’m not quite sure if I’m a good person anymore. Or maybe I’m someone who, when pushed, can go to extremes I never imagined possible. I can kill someone who’s not a stranger. Can cross lines and fight back. Maybe good and bad aren’t as straightforward as I thought.

My hand sits on his shoulder as he kneels down to wash the blood off my leg. Pink water swirls down the drain. His skin is hot and alive. Everything I need right now. He’s so beautiful with his scars and his hardness. How gentle his hands are on me, despite the things they’re capable of.

I’m the one who starts the kissing, my mouth pressed against the side of his neck. Even with the water, I can still catch the warm scent of him. The taste of salt on his skin. It’s all so perfectly Thom.

“Babe,” he mutters. “You okay?”

“Absolutely not.” I kiss him again. Harder.

“Whatever you need.” His hands skim down my back, comforting as opposed to sexy-times exploring. The muscles in his arms flex as he holds me tighter and tighter. “I thought I was going to lose you today. I’ve never been so fucking scared in my life. The elevator doors opened and there you stood. Then that asshole turned and aimed his gun and…”

“I’m right here.”

“You almost weren’t.”

I don’t know what to say to that.

“Jesus. If he had harmed you, I would not have given him a quick death.” The fire in his eyes, the stark way his cheekbones stand out…this man is a lot overwhelming. Especially in this moment. “I know you don’t want to hear that sort of thing, but it’s the truth.”

“I understand.” And I do. The thought of anyone hurting him makes me stabby too.

“You’ll never come after me again. Promise me.”

“But you needed to know—”

“Nothing is worth you getting hurt. Shit! You almost got killed. Tell me you understand that, Betty.”

Problem is, I don’t exactly agree. “Did you know about Badger?”

“As a matter of fact, I found out a moment or two before you made your entrance.”

“So me killing him—”

Thom groans. “It helped. I’ll admit it. But we would have managed.”

“You would have been cornered, waiting for the elevator to arrive. Admit it.”

But apparently he has no interest in further debate right now.

His kiss is gentle at first. Firm lips pressing against mine, again and again. As if he’s just reassuring himself I’m still here and alive. I’m the one who pushes for more. My mouth opening, tongue teasing. And Thom doesn’t hold back at all. Not once he knows I want it. Hell, that I need it. His body hard against mine, his fingers possessive on my flesh. After today, we both crave this physical confirmation of being alive and together. There’s no doubt.