Chapter 16
M ila had been quiet ever since Ghost talked to Rami. They sat at the kitchen table while he took a bite of the burger he’d fried on the stove.
She took a bite of baked potato and her gaze met his. “What?” she asked, with a shy smile.
Her hair hung in loose waves, still damp from her shower. Her skin was free of makeup and her lips were full, pink, and so fucking kissable.
“Nothin’. Just wondering what you’re thinking.”
Her smile spread. “You don’t strike me as the curious type.”
He smirked, took another bite of the juicy, cheesy meat, then wiped his mouth. “I’m not. You, however, make me want to know more.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Why’s that?”
He shrugged. “You’re the only person worth knowing about I suppose.”
Her eyebrows jumped. “Well,” she said. “You mentioned Taschen being shot in the head. That kind of jarred me.”
Ghost set his napkin by his plate and took a sip of water. “Yup. Don’t know how he survived. His sister found him before it was too late. It was a bullet graze, but serious enough.”
She widened her eyes. “I bet. He’s lucky to be here.”
“Yup. He can continue being a pain in our asses.”
Her eyebrows rose again.
He smirked. “Kidding. All the guys were worried when Taschen was shot. He has yet another scar on his ugly head, but he’s still going strong.” He chewed, and his throat bobbed on a swallow.
“Wow. I’m curious about the rest of the guys. What’s Rami’s story?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “Rami rescued his now fiancé, Ivy, from human traffickers.”
She widened her eyes. “Holy shit.”
“Yeah, it’s a wild story. Not mine to tell. But if it wasn’t for her twin sister Gigi twisting August’s arm, Rami never would’ve agreed to look for her.”
“Why’s that?”
He rested his arm on the table. “Backcountry isn’t exactly a search and rescue type of company. He didn’t think we had enough skill. ’Course we did and the rest is history.”
“Well, that’s pretty fascinating. Gigi sounds like a wonderful sister.”
“She’s great. A food blogger that makes me gain five pounds every time she sends food to the office for us.”
She smiled wistfully. “That sounds nice. It’s great you’re all so close.”
“You’d like them. Even August. Not sure how Gigi stands him, but she does,” he joked. Watching her face carefully, he locked his gaze on hers, wishing like hell he could read her mind. “What else were you thinking?”
“I was just wondering if the roads will be clear in the morning.”
Which meant she was either eager to get the hell away from him or she didn’t want to leave. “Hard to say. It’s stopped snowing, so I think as long as we take my truck we’ll make it out of here.”
She lowered her gaze. “Okay. What time are we leaving?”
He studied her. “Can’t wait to get away from me?”
“No,” she said. “But I understand our time is limited. Things will be different once we return to normalcy.”
“Do you live in Seattle?” Christ, it hadn’t occurred to him she could be from somewhere else. A lot of assassins traveled. Very rarely were they hired to kill someone local.
She lowered her gaze. “I don’t really have a permanent residence. Life’s easier if I’m not rooted in one place. I usually travel from city to city and stay a month or two at a time, depending where the jobs are.”
Her words cut through him. He’d lived a rocky life, but Seattle had always been home. Even when his shit was chaos, he had a location that offered familiarity and memories—some painful as fuck. “What about Irinia’s family? The ones you lived with.”
“They’re in Utah. I don’t see them much. By choice. But I’m required to check in with them every few days regarding work.”
He mulled over her words. Goddamn, she’d been killing longer than he had. That shook him. She’d even started younger, for Christ’s sake. It’d been three years since he collected pay for pulling the trigger—since he worked for Trident.
Still, all that killing she’d done hadn’t dimmed the softness about her. Maybe it had something to do with her being female. Or hell, maybe she was just stronger than most.
“You think I’m a monster, don’t you?” Her voice was small but unfazed.
“No,” he said, without pause. “I think the people who took you are.”
She tucked her chin. “I’m the one who’s murdered people. Doesn’t that scare you?”
He snorted—a full-out sound that would’ve been considered rude in any other context. “No, that doesn’t scare me. Nothing scares me. Sure as hell nothing about you scares me.”
The corner of her mouth tucked into her cheek.
He covered her hand with his. “What, Mila?”
Her throat moved on a swallow. “I scare myself.”
The admission, whispered and barely there, tore him to shreds. He set down his fork and pulled her wrist, urging her from her chair and onto his lap. He swept his fingers from that damn bandage on her head to her perfectly straight jaw. “Why?”
She squirmed uncomfortably, her gaze darting away. He held his free arm tightly around her waist.
“I mean, it’s not normal, you know? For someone to kill like I have. I... I was just a kid. And now... Now I’m numb to it.” She met his eyes. “There’s something wrong with me.”
Anger made his cheeks hot. He caught the side of her head and brought her face to rest on his chest. She curled easily against him, like she was scared and uncertain. Only she wasn’t afraid of another person but her own capabilities.
“There’s nothing wrong with you.”
She laughed. “You can’t be serious. A therapist would have a field day with me. If I was ever tried for my crimes, not only would I go to prison for the rest of my life, I’d undergo evaluations that would surely determine I’m insane.”
He stroked her hair. “If you’re insane, so am I. I’ve killed people, too, honey. A lot. And not a single death kept me up at night.” No, deaths hadn’t. But the face of a sweet little kid sure as hell did.
“I think anyone would see what you’d been through and chalk up your line of work to survival. You were taught one thing, baby. To do what was necessary to keep yourself alive.”
“I knew better,” she whispered. “I had a loving home once. I never—” Her voice broke. “I never would’ve imagined hurting someone. Even bad people.”
He held her cheek to his shoulder. Goddammit, he wanted to erase everything she’d been through. But if he could, she wouldn’t be here right now. That thought was selfish as fuck and he couldn’t grasp why he had such an urge to hang on to her.
She should’ve been protected.
“What would’ve happened if you hadn’t done what they’d asked?”
Slowly, she lifted her head. Tears glistened in her eyes and confusion puckered her brow. “Irinia would’ve killed my family. And then me.”
He swept his thumb over a stray tear. “That’s why you did what you did, Mila. And you’re not insane. You’re strong because of it. And maybe,” he said, dropping his voice low, “maybe those kills saved innocent lives.”
She rolled her lips together. “I’d like to believe that. Is that what you tell yourself?”
“No. I killed to get paid. The reason those men were on the wrong end of that deal wasn’t my problem.”
“So nothing keeps you up at night, huh?”
A gray haze threatened to consume him. He forced himself to shake his head. “Not anymore.” A lie.
His phone beeped and Mila straightened on his lap. He snagged his device from the table and read Rami’s text.
Call when you can. I’ve got a location on Hunter.
That hadn’t taken long.
Mila stood from his lap. “I’ll clean up.”
He reached for his plate, but she got it first. “Please. I need to keep my hands busy.”
Awareness rang through him. He knew that feeling well. It was one of the reasons that he kept a gym here. He couldn’t stand idle time.
Time alone with his demons.
“All right. I’ll give Rami a call.” He hit his boss’s contact icon and stalked to the living room.
Rami answered on the first ring. “That was fast.”
“I could say the same to you. What’d you find on Hunter?”
“First, I’ll confirm he’s alive and well.”
Ghost muttered a curse. Part of him had wondered whether—maybe hoped—Neo had been lying. It seemed unlikely Hunter had survived a shot to the head, but stranger shit had happened. “How the hell did he remain hidden for three years?”
“From what I gather, he’s got an underground bunker. According to my source, he spent six months rehabilitating after you shot him, then went to Germany for further treatment.”
“No shit. Who’s your source?”
Rami grunted. “Brick had connections and managed to reach Hunter’s estranged brother, Asher. His story checks out, though. I haven’t found any lies yet. He also claims Hunter returned to the US last year.”
Ghost pinched his brow. He’d wondered if Asher was involved in hiring Mila, hadn’t known they’d been estranged but that made sense if Neo hadn’t heard of him. “I can’t believe this went unnoticed.”
Who was he kidding? Of course it went unnoticed. Hunter wasn’t on his radar. Sure, he had been for a little while after everything went down. Ghost had expected someone to come for him. That was the way of his life, always anticipating a hit.
But three years had made him complacent.
He’d lived under an alias, didn’t make friends outside Backcountry, was careful who he slept with.
He lived like his nickname—like a fucking ghost. It’d probably taken Hunter a whole damn year to find him.
Meanwhile, Ghost’s stupid ass was getting comfortable in Seattle.
He might as well have been walking around with a bull’s-eye on his back.
“Where is he now?”
Rami chortled. “Seattle. Looks like our friend isn’t done with you.”
***
Mila swiped the last of the crumbs into the sink. After Ghost had finished on the phone, he’d tried to help her clean once again, but she’d shooed him out. He’d gone upstairs to change into sweats and now all she could hear were grunts and weights dropping to the floor in the sunroom.
She had too much on her mind and if she stopped moving, her brain might explode—or she’d dissolve into tears.