Out of Love(63)

With his head still hanging, he shook it slowly. “The men you’ve dated … anything notable about them? Have you ever been with a married man? When you saw Abe, did anything about him look familiar to you?”

“Jesus, Slade. What’s happening? I’ve not knowingly slept with a married man. Nothing about Abe looked familiar. And the most notable thing about any of the men I’ve dated is my most recent guy is an assassin.”

Ignoring my jab, he lifted his head and reached for his beer. After another long swig, he exhaled slowly and pinned me with a hard expression. “Shortly after we met, Abe gave me a new assignment, something I don’t usually do, but I do what he says, so …”

My eyebrows lifted. “So?”

“He told me I needed to look after you. To make sure you were safe … protected.”

Protect me.

I should have felt safe. After all, a man with a slew of weapons was living with me. Protecting me. But I didn’t feel safe. The only time I’d felt that vulnerable—that exposed—was when I had a knife to my throat while a terrible human tried to rape me.

“How could I be so stupid?” I whispered. “You said it wasn’t your job to … fuck me.” My gaze lifted to his. “But I was your job.”

“Livy—”

I shook my head, closing my eyes for a few seconds. “That’s what happened. That’s why you went from clearly hating me to …” I opened my eyes as tears filled them. “Might as well get a little action, huh? The closer you drew me in, the easier it was to protect me. Oh my god …” I wiped the tears as soon as they fell from my burning eyes. “We’re nothing.” My words fell out like someone shot them. Lifeless. Monotone. Numb.

He set his beer down and his boots ate up the distance between us. Hunching in front of me, his hands rested on my hips. “We’re everything.”

I shook my head, closing my eyes as silent tears spilled out, down my cheeks to my lap.

“Look at me.”

I shook my head relentlessly, keeping my chin to my chest, my bottom lip quivering as I clenched my teeth to keep from sobbing.

“Look. At. Me.” He framed my face with his hands and forced my head up.

I blinked open my eyes, big tears clinging to my lashes.

“It wasn’t my job to touch you the way I’ve touched you. I couldn’t stop myself. I wanted to … even when I knew it wasn’t a good idea. So I did it anyway. And I knew it wasn’t my job to love you. Again, I couldn’t stop myself. I did it anyway. Protecting you is no longer my job. It’s what I do because I love you.”

I couldn’t find words. No matter how much I wanted to believe him, it was impossible to dismiss the arsenal below me, the gun in his holster, and his questions. More than all of that, it wasn’t what he did say. It was everything he didn’t say.

“Why did Abe hire you to protect me? Protect me from what? From whom?”

“I can’t say.”

“No.” My head whipped side to side as I tried to stand.

He grabbed my wrists. “Livy—”

“Let. Go. Of. Me!” I tried to wriggle out of his hold.

He released me, holding his hands up in surrender while still kneeling before me as I stood.

“You can’t protect me with lies,” I seethed.

“It’s the only way I can protect you. And I’m sorry it sounds so fucked-up, but that is the truth. I know it’s an unimaginable leap of faith I’m asking, but I need you to trust me and do everything I ask.”

“I should call my dad … Jessica …”

He shook his head. “You. I can protect you. I can’t protect everyone you drag into this mess. Not until I get things figured out. Please.” His hands eased to my hips, eyes pleading as I peered down at him. “Let me love you back.”

A new round of tears emerged. “I’m scared,” I whispered.

“I’ve got you.” He rested his forehead over my heart, arms encircling my waist.

“Promise?” I eased back into the chair.

He moved several inches forward on his knees, hands finding their way into my hair, lips brushing mine. “Promise.”





Chapter Twenty-Six




Jackson Knight


“When’s the last time someone kicked your ass?”

I glanced up from my computer. My twin, Jessica, sauntered into my house with her gym bag. “No one’s ever kicked my ass. So the answer to your question is never.” I returned my attention to my computer.

“Working? Obsessing? Or stalking?”

“Obsessing? Stalking?”

She took a seat at the dining room table across from me. “Obsessing over Ryn’s death, which … for the millionth time … was an accident. Or are you stalking Livy and her new boyfriend?”

I flitted my gaze to hers for a second time. “She told you about Slade?”

“Slade.” She grinned. “You know and remembered his name. That’s something.”

My dead stare remained glued to her until the light went on in her head.

“Of course, you know his name, and you know it well because you’re stalking him. I knew it.”

“His record is clean.”