Chapter 26
Gable
“Asher, please don’t leave me.”
I open my eyes to darkness. Ella is asleep against me, her head on my shoulder, arm across my chest, and I take a deep breath, running my hand down my face as I try to grab at the urge to fall back to sleep.
But being back with Ella has thoughts of Asher assaulting me.
We’d always looked after each other, and Hunter taught us everything we needed to know to maneuver through this life. We survived because we learned from the best, and after nearly twelve years and hundreds of lives taken, we were experts.
With Ella, it’s different.
She isn’t like us. She isn’t a killer. She’s a fighter, but not in the way that matters for a battle like this. I’ll protect her until my last breath, but I’m still scared.
I don’t want to fail Asher.
Motor is on my other side, head on my leg, asleep. I’m hot. Uncomfortably hot. I can get on board with Motor being this close—we used to sleep side by side every night before Asher died—but not Ella. She’s pressed into my side, breathing steadily, but at least she isn’t talking, so that’s a bonus.
I shift and she sighs softly, turning away from me. She’s using my bicep as a pillow, but at least my body heat will go down, thank fuck. Is she made of fire?
Somehow, for some ungodly reason given how goddamn warm she feels, she shivers. I sigh and pull the blanket over her, and she sighs again, nuzzling into my arm.
I’d like my arm back, but sure. There are perfectly good pillows she could use instead of my arm, but sure.
I turn onto my side as carefully as I can, tucking a pillow under my neck, and Motor huffs as I disturb him.
“I only have enough patience for one of you,” I whisper angrily.
Motor huffs again.
I close my eyes, exhaling. Ella’s hair is fanned over the pillow, tickling my face, and I’m so close to losing my damn temper. This is why I never stay over at women’s houses. They’re like hot water bottles with hair.
I move her hair away, and she takes a deep breath, shifting back and into me. My hand freezes, hovering over her, unsure what to do. Her back is now almost completely against my chest, and so is her body heat, and I wish I’d spooned the dog instead.
Resting my hand on my side, I lie quietly, unable to sleep with her this close, so I watch the steady rising and falling of her shoulders and think about Asher.
It never made sense to me how he fell for this woman.
We’d both had the same stance on love—romantic love couldn’t exist. Not like it did in movies, anyway.
Love at first sight seemed fucking ridiculous.
There would always come a time when the person you loved would say or do something that would break your trust and then what?
You start all over again with someone else? Why?
But for some reason, Asher Flynn met Ella Gibson and decided she was worth it. He saw through her flaws, and she has a fuck ton of them, and threw out the rule book. I can’t imagine a person ever having a list of pros long enough to take that kind of risk.
I could list ten things right now that I hate about Ella with remarkable ease. And her fucking body temperature is slotting into the top three.
But I promised my brother that we’d protect her, and him being gone doesn’t mean I’ll break that promise.
I don’t know how your falling in love became my issue, Asher, but I’m pissed about it.
I smell coffee. Bacon. Food, glorious fucking food that didn’t come from a drive-thru. I open my eyes. I’m alone in the bed, not even Motor by my side, but I guess the dog will be wherever the bacon is.
I get up, use the bathroom, brush my teeth, and splash cold water on my face.
Ella is downstairs frying bacon. Too much bacon. Four plates of fried meat line the kitchen counters, along with sausages, eggs, and toast.
Who the fuck else is coming to breakfast?
She jumps when she sees me. “Oh! Sorry. I forget how tall you are. You’re like a tree. Are you hungry?”
I’m not sure which to address first: the insult or the offer of food.
“Yes.” I sit. “Are you expecting a hundred guests? What the fuck is with all this?”
“I cook when I panic,” she says, shaking her hands out. She pours me a coffee and dishes up a plate before placing it before me.
“Why are you panicking?” I ask, shoveling the food in my mouth. Holy God, this is good.
Ella sits beside me. “Well, I woke up this morning with my dead boyfriend’s brother in my bed, who also happens to be an assassin on the run from my dad. Panic stations, please!”
God, she really is annoying.
“I said we’ll deal with it, and we will.”
“Right,” she says, nodding. She watches me eat.
I sigh. “What?”
“When will we deal with it?” She edges her chair closer to me. “And what does ‘deal with it’ mean?”
“I told you,” I say. “Safe place and—” I pause. “Is that OJ?”
She glances at the counter and hops up, pouring me a glass of juice, and I drink it. God, fucking orange juice and breakfast. This is heaven.
“Keep going,” she says, returning to her seat and drumming her hands on the table. I press my hand on top of both of hers.
“Stop fidgeting. You’re making me nervous, and I don’t get nervous,” I say.
“You book a place online, anywhere that’s at least three hours away.
You book it from today for one month. Your dad gets back; you tell him you’re going.
I meet you at the place you’ve booked; we drive to where we’re actually going, then we start work on trying to find the hard drive. ”
She nods and looks away.
“Oh!” She raises her hand.
I groan. “Fuck me. Yes, Gibson?”
“What if we don’t find the drive? What if we find out what is on the drive?”
“Congratulations, genius, you’ve got a brain,” I say. “What do you think I’ve been doing?”
“Wow.” She rolls her eyes. “Someone is crabby in the mornings.”
“Only when you’re jumping around like a fucking jack rabbit,” I say, eating more bacon.
She watches me quietly, chewing her thumb.
“My dad won’t be happy about me leaving.”
“Well, convince him. He’s gonna have to be.”
She nods. She’s quiet for a few minutes, thank God, and I shovel as much food into my mouth as I can.
“You really think I’m safest with you?”
I put down my fork. “Ella, would you like me to tell you how many people I’ve killed in the last six months to keep you alive?”
She shrinks back. “No.”
“Good. You’re safe with me.” I pick up my fork. “Twenty-seven, by the way.”
She presses her palms to her cheeks. “Oh God.” She pauses and then chews her lip. A few more minutes of glorious silence pass, and I make the most of it, because I know it won’t last long. “How do I know you won’t just kill me?”
“Are you kidding?”
“Well, I’ve got half a mil on my head! You kill me; you get on the bad guy's good side because you offed me, and you get a cool half mil!”
That isn’t a bad plan.
If I didn’t love Asher so much, I’d probably do just that.
“Ella, I spent all last night with you; if I was going to kill you, I’d have smothered you with a pillow and reveled in the goddamn silence for a night. By the way, I almost did. You’re like a fucking furnace.”
She smiles. “I know, Asher said the same thing. He liked it, though. I emit body heat; what can I say?”
“See a doctor,” I say, drinking more orange juice. “Okay, I need to go.”
She watches me stand. “Go?”
“I have to get things ready for when we leave.”
“Things?”
“Are you a fucking parrot?”
“‘Are you a fucking parrot?’” she mimics. “You’re really, really rude. Why are you so rude?” I scowl and head for the stairs to get my bag. I need to get away from her before protecting her quickly becomes killing her.
“Wait!” She follows me up the stairs. “Why don’t you just stay here for a while? I don’t want to be alone.”
“Because I told you,” I say, going into the bedroom. “I have to get things ready. We need cars, we need—”
“Multiple cars? Why?”
“Because someone might follow us,” I say, my jaw tight. “And then I need to speak to my friend who is staying in the house—”
“Where is the house? Is it nice?”
“It’s far away and quiet. Two things I wish you would be,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Does it have a hot tub?”
“Oh my God,” I say. “Why would it have a hot tub, Gibson? Do you think we’re going on vacation? Would you like some spa treatments, too?”
She holds up her hands. “Sorry, I’m just asking. What should I pack? Is it cold?”
I’m about to lose my temper, and then I realize that’s actually a perfectly fair question.
“Yes, it’ll be cold,” I say. “But pack for both.”
“Both meaning hot and cold?”
“No, both meaning north and south.”
“What does that mean?”
I’m twitching, fully twitching. “I’m being sarcastic.”
“Oh,” she says and grins. She watches me throw the rest of my stuff into a bag. “You don’t want to stay at least until lunch?”
“I don’t want to stay for another minute,” I say. “I’m going to get things ready, I’m going to get laid, and then we’re leaving.”
She claps excitedly. “You have a girlfriend?”
“No,” I say. “I’m getting laid because it’ll be the last time I feel good again until you’re out of my life.”
Her smile fades. “You know what? Maybe I don’t want to go with you. Maybe I’ll just stay right here and take my chances.”
I drop my bag on the bed and close my eyes. Asher used to tell me to count to ten before doing something impulsive, and I never did it because I like doing impulsive things.
But right now, impulsivity means strangling Ella Gibson until her neck snaps.
So, I count to ten. I open my eyes. And then I stalk toward her, slowly, until her back is pressed to the wall.
“You are coming with me, Gibson, whether you like it or not. Asher is my brother, and I will protect what he loved. Your dad cannot protect you, not from these people,” I say, and she looks up at me, less afraid, more curious.
“So even if I have to throw you over my shoulder and put you in the trunk, you’re coming with me. Do you understand?”
She blinks up at me. “How big is the trunk?” I open my mouth to yell, and she covers it with her hand. “I’m kidding. Okay, I’ll come. Do me a favor, though?”
“What?”
“Fuck her twice, will you? You’re super uptight.”