Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
I’d almost missed my nightly call. A promise I’d managed to keep in the time I’d been away.
That had to be why my heart pounded in my chest when I answered the FaceTime call.
Either that or I was excited to talk to Cara and listen to her ramble on about her day.
I still wasn’t sure. I wanted it to be about excitement.
I wanted to love her the way she deserved to be loved, but damn if I didn’t have serious doubts.
The heart palpitations could also be extreme fear.
Fight or flight might be the reason for the uptick.
Maybe it was the universe’s way of telling me I should run and leave Cara with her nanny.
The truth was Flora had been the one constant in Cara’s life.
Even before her parents were murdered. Flora had been taking care of Cara since she was a year old, and Donna went back to work.
Flora had moved with the family from country to country.
The information broker and the operative.
God knew why Michael thought it was a good idea to have a kid was beyond me. He should’ve known better that kids and the agency didn’t mix. Not when the kid’s mom was also in the game.
“Lolo!” Cara exclaimed as soon as the call connected. Her cute little face twisted with excitement. “Lolo! Guess what?”
I couldn’t help my smile. There was something about the little girl that made me happy, always had, since she was a tiny little thing and Michael had made me hold her.
“What?”
“Franny let me have two snickerdoodles after dinner.”
Flora only allowed what she called treats three times a week. I called cookies a necessity. I was totally going to fail at this nutrition shit.
“Wow. That’s a big treat.”
Cara nodded fiercely—no, not fierce—exuberant. She was a child. A happy, lively, cheerful little girl who somehow had managed to keep all her innocence despite losing her parents.
“Franny said I was extra good tonight at dinner. I finished all my stew.” Cara paused to scrunch her nose. “Even the carrots.”
Stew.
Flora made healthy meals. When Cara’s diet was left to me, it’d likely pop some chicken nuggets into the microwave. I didn’t know how to prepare vegetables, and stew was well beyond my culinary skills.
What the hell had Michael and Donna been thinking?
Me.
I was their best option?
When they’d asked me to be Cara’s Godmother, I thought it was some honorary title that gave me permission to spoil the sweet girl rotten. No one told me, what it really meant would be I would be responsible for not screwing her up after her parents got themselves killed.
Fuck.
“Why is your face pinchy, Lolo?”
I smoothed my features and smiled. “I just wish I was there to eat Franny’s stew with you.
” Lie. I didn’t like stew. “And I miss you.” Not a lie.
I loved Cara as much as my cold, dead black heart would allow me to.
“And I can’t wait to get home.” Not a lie, but maybe a stretch of the truth.
I wanted to get back to her. I needed to, both for her and Flora.
But the reality of that scared the holy hell out of me.
As soon as I got back and Cara was settled, Flora would be leaving us. She wanted to retire. She had children and grandchildren of her own and wanted to spend time with them. I’d only have a few weeks with her so she could teach me how to be a mom.
Suddenly my stomach cramped and I felt woozy.
Guardian.
Cara was my charge. Not my daughter.
Her whole face lit up, making her dark eyes dance. Dark eyes she’d inherited from her father. The rest of her was Donna.
“You’re coming home?” Cara chirped.
Shit.
“Almost,” I told her. “Five more days.”
That was a decision I’d made last night.
I was giving Zane five more days, then I was going home even if the job wasn’t complete.
Not that he needed my help. But even if he did, I was done.
Flora had warned me never to make a promise I couldn’t keep and never but never mention something if I wasn’t ready to share fully.
She didn’t have to explain the ramifications of broken promises to a child—I knew those all too well.
“Yippy!” Cara did a wiggly dance and spun in a circle.
How was it possible for her to be so happy after all she’d lost. And why in the hell would she wiggle around and smile at the news I’d be coming home.
Maybe because we hadn’t told her that Flora was leaving and she’d be stuck with me. Cara was a social butterfly—the more around for her to entertain the happier she seemed to be.
“Now, tell me all about your day and don’t leave anything out.”
Cara happily blathered on about her day; the puzzles she’d done, the pages colored in her new coloring book I’d given her before I left, and the letters she and Flora had practiced.
Letters. Numbers. Colors. Good Lord, school would be next and I’d have to figure out drop off and pick up and supplies and… fuck, there’d be parents and teachers to deal with.
My stomach gave an unhappy roil.
“Lolo,” Cara called. “You’re making your funny face again.”
That funny face was me trying not to puke.
To cover up my discomfort, I copied the nose scrunch she did and stuck out my tongue.
Shit, were parental types allowed to stick out their tongues at their charges? Wasn’t that akin to an adult flipping the bird?
“Are you telling me my face looks funny, Care Bear?”
Cara’s little mouth curved up. The sight made my heart skip a beat.
Part of me—the part that still had a shred of humanity left, wanted to scoop her little body up, hug her tight, and tell her she was the most beautiful creature I’d ever laid eyes on.
But the other part—the realist, wanted to run and hide her away so the world couldn’t steal her innocence.
Maybe I’d look into homeschooling.
Right, because high school dropouts should teach children how to read and write.
I vaguely wondered if I could find a program that specialized in covert ops, counterintelligence, and self-defense as a companion curriculum to reading and writing. It was never too young to learn how to properly ditch a tail and dish out some torture.
And that was why I had no business raising a kid.
I heard the side door open.
My cue to get off the phone before I was overheard.
“I have to let you go so Franny can get you into bed. Miss you, sweet girl.”
“Miss you, Lolo.”
I returned her smile and rushed to end the call as the footsteps stopped in front of the stairs leading off the porch.
Cash.
Thankfully, he was far enough away that I could lower my voice and he wouldn’t be able to hear what I was saying but he wouldn’t miss the phone in my hand.
“Miss you, too, sweet girl.”
Her little hand came up and she waved. A hand that was unblemished. Innocent. So fucking small it wouldn’t take much to crush it.
Fragile.
How the hell was I supposed to protect all the fragility and keep her goodness intact?
As soon as I ended the call, I felt Lore slip back in place.
Lolo was Cara’s and Cara’s alone. From the first time she’d been placed in my arms, I was a goner.
Even when she was an infant, I couldn’t manage to protect myself against the pull of her innocence.
She was a sweet baby with a head full of blonde fuzz who had turned into a watchful toddler, then curiosity had leached in and now she devoured the world around her.
The thud of Cash’s boots bounding down the stairs pulled me from my thoughts. His gaze was steady on me as he moved forward.
Eyes that saw too much. Stupid, beautiful eyes I wished I’d never looked into.
“What?” I snapped when he didn’t look away.
His lips twitched in that irritating way that normally led to a cocky grin.
However, his mouth never curved up, but his brow did.
He didn’t have to utter a word—that arch said it all.
I’d fucked up and let him get the better of me.
It would seem that Cara wasn’t the only one who rattled me and made my perfectly crafted persona slip.
Without a word he strode across the yard. It didn’t take long for him to disappear into a grove of trees.
I needed to get my shit together. I had to fortify my armor—hell, I had to find my armor. The man had a way of stripping it off with nothing more than a look—the arrogant smirk he often directed my way helped in his endeavors.
Cash was nothing more than a manwhore who liked a challenge.
Maybe I was playing this all wrong. Maybe all I needed to do was invite him into my bed and fuck him silly.
Then the game would be over. I’d get a screaming orgasm and five minutes after it was done, he’d be bored and there’d be no more ominous looks.
He wouldn’t stare at me like I was a puzzle to solve.
He’d be totally uninterested. I needed Cash to be indifferent, heartless—not that I thought his heart was engaged, but his dick was.
And if I knew anything about men, it was once their balls were empty and the thrill of the chase was over, they were done.
D.O.N.E.
I needed Cash to be done.
With my new plan in place, I stood, shoving my phone into my pocket, and made my way back into the house.
All I had to do was get through these next five days, then I’d go home, get Cara, and disappear.
Freedom was so close I could taste it.
It must be said, the youngest of the bunch, Bishop could grill a steak. The guy had a laidback smile but there was a darkness that simmered just below the surface. His good looks could easily lure a woman in, his youthful appearance would make a man underestimate his skill.
Just because I hadn’t known these men belonged to Zane didn’t mean I hadn’t heard whispers. An assassin known as Bishop was notorious for his wet work. He was known in certain circles as someone who liked to be up close and personal when he took his blade to a victim.
Proficient, good-looking, and an excellent cook.
The perfect man.
Too bad he was a youngster and I was no longer in the market for a boytoy.