Six(80)

Six smiled back and took his hand. “How are you doing?”

The change in demeanor surprised me. Friendly was not a word I associated with Nine, but then again, Six was very friendly when I met him. The Cleaners were all great actors.

“Let’s go sit over there,” Nine said as he picked up his drink and started walking.

We followed, the two of them sitting in the corner a low wall created while I had my back to the casino.

“What happened here?” Nine asked, his voice changing to the hardened killer voice I knew so well.

In vague terms, Six gave him a brief overview of the wetwork team we encountered, and what happened with Seven.

“Wait… Neither of you set it up?” Nine’s eyes grew almost imperceptibly wider at the knowledge that someone else set the coroner’s office to explode. “And Jason sent Seven?”

Six nodded. “Gave him the access key, too.”

Nine shook his head. “No.” He sat back and crossed his arms in front of him. “I can’t believe he would betray us.”

“I can’t either, but we can’t ignore the signs.”

Nodding in agreement, Nine downed the rest of his glass and slammed it down on the table.

“I’m going to help One search for Two since Four and Seven are now accounted for.”

Six gave a nod. “I’ll find Five and help him locate Jason. See if we can get some answers.”

Nine glanced to me. “Why do you keep her around?” Nine’s voice no longer resembled a hardened Killing Corp member, but more like a friend.

Granted, I was certain they all knew each other and some of them probably for a long time and were once friends before they were nothing but government killing machines.

“I have my reasons.”

“Do you care about her?”

My heart stopped, and I waited. If he did, would he admit it to Nine? Or would that be seen as a weakness?

“Lacey isn’t a topic of discussion.”

Shot down.

I might never know the answer. Things weren’t the same as when he took me months prior. He was still Six, still a killer, but on more than one occasion, he showed me the man beneath. The one who could care for me. The one who maybe could love me.

They stood, and I realized that was the abrupt end.

“Have you ever thought about just walking away?” Nine asked.

Six’s eyes widened. “What are you talking about?”

I stared at Nine as he studied Six’s face like he was searching for something. He glanced down to Six’s left hand, then to mine and the rings that were for show but were never taken off.

“Nothing. Forget it.” He held out his hand and shook Six’s. “Hopefully I’ll see you soon.”

We split off, heading in opposite directions. I couldn’t help but glance back at Nine.

For the first time since I met him, he seemed almost like an actual feeling human being. Then again, facing death could do that to even the most hardened sociopath.





Stats:

17 – number of times I’d been called some form of cattle or sheep or a cat

8256 – times I tried to convince myself I was not developing feelings for my executioner 8254 – times I succeeded in convincing myself I was not developing feelings for my executioner 2 – times I failed at convincing myself I was not developing feelings for my executioner

Fuck me

Things were beyond complicated. I was a rational human being, so logic dictated that you do not fall in love with a man who constantly reminded you he was going to kill you.

The problem was, his dick was so good at helping me forget logic. He made me feel for him.

The saying is you can’t help who you fall in love with, but really? Did it have to happen with a psychopathic killer?

Though I didn’t think it was quite love, but…

I'd never felt as alive as I did with him.

Although I never thought I would develop any feelings other than loathing toward my captor, somewhere along the line, I had.

Maybe I was looking too deep into what he said after he saved my life, or the fact that he saved my life.

The man was charming and sexy, mysterious and alluring, on top of being dangerous. All things that attracted me in the worst ways.

Heart stopping danger, swoon worthy man, and a deadly mystery.

Maybe it was Stockholm Syndrome. Maybe I was a masochist. Then again, maybe I finally found a man worth fighting for. Who knew?

Whatever it was, I was his…for however much longer I lived.

“Are you ever going to stop hugging that thing?” he asked as I sat in bed, the bunny in my lap, playing a mindless game of solitaire.

“Want me to hug you instead?”

He glared at me, and I smirked in return.

Sir Flopsalot, as I was affectionately calling my stuffed bunny, was so soft and cuddly, how could I not hug him all the time?

The fact that Six seemed a bit jealous of the fluff stuffed fabric amused me, and made me snuggle it more.

It was early in the morning, and Six had been up since before the sun trying to get in contact with Five. Simply by his agitated behavior, the talk with Nine the day before had riled up his suspicions of Jason.

One third of their ranks were gone, which would amp anyone up, but it was something Nine said that lit Six.