Strong Enough (Tall, Dark, and Dangerous #1)(39)

“But you don’t see her?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“She thinks I’m dead.”

Muse lifts her head off my arm and her hand stills. “Dead? Why?”

“Because I wanted her to think I’m dead.”

“But why on earth would you do that to her? To yourself?”

“Because she’s better off not knowing what I am. This way, she got to mourn the boy I used to be. That’s better than hating the man I’ve become.”

Muse’s gasp is soft, but I still hear it. It’s like a slap in the dark. “But why? What’s so wrong with the man you’ve become?”

“He’s too much like my father.”

“In what way?”

“In every way. He’s cold and heartless. Ruthless. He destroys everything he touches. She wouldn’t be proud of what I’ve become, so I let her keep the boy she loved. Besides, it’s safer for her this way. To the world, her son is dead. There would be nothing for anyone to gain by hurting her.”

“I don’t . . . I don’t understand. You’re a bounty hunter. Why would people be after your mother?”

I open my eyes and roll my head to face Muse. Her eyes are dark in the low light, dark and confused. “The people I hunt don’t want to be found. And they certainly don’t want to be found by me.”

I see the wheels turning behind her narrowed gaze. I see the exact moment she begins to process what I might mean. Her eyes go from slim slits to wide, stunned orbs. “What are you saying, Jasper?”

“Probably just what you think I’m saying. I’m saying that I do the things few other people have the stomach for.”

She sits up straighter, pulling the sheet over her naked torso, like she’s suddenly uncomfortable. But not with her nudity. More with our intimacy. And I can see why. Most people abhor what I am when they get an inkling of it.

“Wait. Dad said that he knew you’d bring me, that he knew they’d send you. What does that mean? That meeting you was no accident? That you were sent to . . . to . . .”

I shouldn’t hedge. I should lay out the cold, hard truth for her, but something in me can’t stand seeing the look of hurt and disgust on her face.

“I knew him. Quite well, actually. They knew if anyone could find him, it would be me.”

“So you weren’t going to—”

I interrupt her. “Your father knows that he needs to get me some information and that he needs to do it fast. He knows that as long as I have you, he’s under no threat from me. I have no reason to hurt him because he has every reason to comply. You are his reason to get me what I need.”

“So I’m like insurance?”

I seesaw my head. “Sort of, if that’s how you want to look at it.”

“You keep me until he delivers?”

“Yes.”

Her brows knit together. “Why would he keep that from me? Why wouldn’t he just tell me? He has to know that I’d go along with it if it meant keeping him out of danger, out of trouble. I mean, hell, I left South Carolina and moved across the country to keep him safe.”

“At least that’s what he wanted you to think,” I add. I probably shouldn’t get involved in their arrangements, but she might as well know that he did it all for her.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Think about it. Is the Colonel really the type to let his daughter uproot her entire life and move away from him just to keep him safe?”

She pauses to think. “I knew it didn’t really seem like him, like something he’d do, but . . .”

“But you trust him. I get it. And that’s good. He’d never do anything to hurt you, so your trust isn’t misplaced.”

“No, but he obviously thinks nothing of lying to protect me.” There’s an angry set to her jaw, an aggravated angle to the tilt of her chin.

“People do that for the ones they love.”

As she looks at me with those big, exotic eyes, I see the anger fade into a curious sadness and I know before she speaks that she’s turning her attention back to me. I admire that she’s always ready to throw herself so completely into the life and trust of another person. It’s inadvisable as hell, but I love the haphazardness with which she lives. It’s the absolute antithesis of everything about my life.

“Like you did for your mother.”

Leave it to Muse to go there, to take what I’ve told her and paint me as some sort of martyr. But she’s wrong and I can’t let her think otherwise.

I meet her eyes, baring all the coldness my soul possesses for her to see, driving home my point before I even open my mouth. “Don’t mistake me for a good guy, Muse. My motives were purely selfish. I didn’t want the pain of my mother’s disgust. I didn’t want the heartache of her being captured or tortured because of me. Letting her believe me to be dead was anything but a selfless act.”

“Maybe those were the main reasons, but still, you loved her enough to spare her that pain, too. Has it ever occurred to you that you might be selling yourself short, Jasper?”

“No, it hasn’t,” I reply, deadpan. “If I stand in a room full of people anywhere in the world, I know who the monster is.”