VI #3
“Yes, sir,” I answered. I spun on my heel and then immediately backpedaled to keep from walking straight into Gunner, who was still standing at the table, hands in his trouser pockets, with one eyebrow cocked. “Shit. Gunner—”
“Is it necessary to play this game of hide-and-seek now?” he asked, tone unperturbed.
“As a matter of fact, yes,” Moore answered.
“I was speaking to Hamilton,” Gunner replied.
His voice remained cool and unchanged, but there was a certain sharpness about his person.
It was clear to me that Gunner did not like Moore, but that this attitude toward my director had nothing to do with their chosen…
erm… professions and everything to do with me instead.
I turned to Moore again, took a step back, and forced Gunner to do the same. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment, sir. I’d like to speak with Gunner in private.”
Moore didn’t approve, didn’t disapprove, merely puffed on his pipe.
Once I’d put enough distance between the two that they couldn’t go at each other like feral toms, I detoured long enough to fetch my coat and hat and put them on as I ushered Gunner out the door.
I followed him up the stairs, the stink of soon-to-be bloated bodies left behind in exchange for that very particular scent of radiator heat cranked high.
Gunner had clearly paid attention on our initial walkthrough, as he successfully navigated his way to the side door without any prompting from me.
He stopped half a dozen feet from the exit, though, turned, and put a hand above my head on the wall.
He used his build to press me back against the wall, and I removed my bowler before it could be knocked off.
Gunner was never intentionally intimidating when he took this posture with me—if anything, his long, lithe body just shy of touching my own, having to stare up at his stoic features, brought back memories of Arizona that made my heart race.
But I didn’t need to live in the past.
Gunner was right here, right now.
“I have to work.”
Gunner didn’t reply.
“I’ve been tracking this lead for two months.”
Still no response.
“Please say something so I know whether you’re angry.”
“I’m not angry,” he said, voice low.
“I’m so sorry—”
Gunner brought his other hand to my face, tilted my chin, and kissed my mouth before I could protest as to our location.
“—not a single thing about this night—”
He kissed me again.
I was losing an argument we weren’t even having. “—nothing has gone right.”
Gunner’s eyes narrowed a little, but this was his amused face. “None of it?”
I started to sweat under the weight of my winter coat. “Some of it,” I corrected, my voice barely a whisper now. I reached my free hand into my pocket, searching for my apartment keys. “Here. Go back to—”
“No.”
“Gunner.”
“I’ll wait outside for you.”
“You can’t. This is federal business.”
“It was federal business in Arizona too.”
“That was different. I don’t need your assistance here.”
Gunner’s hand slid off the wall and he straightened his posture. The twinkle in his eyes was gone. “No? I lied for you, Gillian.”
“Well, I-I—”
“And I don’t lie.”
I swallowed hard and let out a breath that was shaky. Hell, on the verge of tears was more accurate. “Then why? Why did you say that?”
Gunner’s gaze flicked to the right, assured we were still alone, and then he said, “Because you needed my help.”
I felt as if I’d been shot right through the heart with aether—his words reverberating through every organ and bone in my body.
When Gunner’s methodical deconstruction of my person had uncovered my tendencies, the intense fear of being found out hadn’t lingered long because we’d trusted each other with this shared secret.
We had… a sort of affection for each other.
A likeness, certainly.
I liked Gunner a great deal.
And even though it wouldn’t be forever, for now, tonight, he promised conversation and lovemaking, and I could pretend I wouldn’t be absolutely devastated when he moved on.
But this dissection Gunner performed with his eyes, a mere once-over that gleaned far more than my simple desire to be touched by him, it presented unparalleled danger that I simply didn’t have the emotional and mental tools to handle.
He could see my lies. Perhaps he hadn’t ascertained the why, but he could still see each and every one of them, thriving in the blackness I called my soul.
I passed a hand over my eyes.
“I’m not asking for you to explain.”
“You want to know.”
“Of course I do.” Gunner brushed my hand away and wiped my cheeks with his thumbs. “But I won’t take anything you won’t willingly part with.”
“Thank you,” I finally said, staring at my shoes. “For intervening with Moore.”
“You’re welcome.”
“You must think me such a hypocrite.”
“Why’s that?”
I snorted and raised my head. “I was so cross with you in Arizona.”
Gunner looked—if anything—perplexed.
“I called you a criminal.”
“I am a criminal.”
“I judged your behavior as if I were morally superior.”
“Show me a lawman who doesn’t.”
“I made you share your name with me, and I can’t—”
Gunner smiled at that. Quick. There and gone, like usual.
“No one makes me do anything, remember? Not even you, Gillian. No, don’t protest to the contrary.
You have my name because I wanted you to.
I’m not keeping score. We all have secrets.
Even handsome and charming special agents.
I don’t think you’re a hypocrite. But I do think you’re struggling with the truth that you’ve, perhaps, been straddling a gray line for a very long time. ”
“I can’t be a lawman— a good man —if I’m not black-and-white.”
Gunner cupped my face so gently, so tenderly, it nearly undid me. “I disagree.”
I struggled to swallow the upheaval of emotions lodged in my throat.
“Tell me this one thing: do you lie for the pleasure, or for survival?”
I startled and met Gunner’s gaze. Of course he’d somehow hyperfocused on the one word that’d become my life’s mantra: survive . I cleared my throat and said, “For survival.”
“Then if it protects you to avoid the truth about how you sensed that magic, I will lie as well.” Gunner kissed me again and let go. “Don’t guilt yourself for being alive.”
I nodded weakly, took a deep breath, and put my bowler on. I wanted—needed—to say something, but Gunner was already at the door. He opened it, was briefly outlined by the dirty orange security lamp, then vanished into the dark of night.