Chapter 15
RHETT
The nod feels like a lie, perhaps because it is one. She just called me a good person because I use the law, because I was a cop and a soldier and now a bounty hunter.
She doesn’t know I’m a killer. Or that if I were caught, I’d be in prison for a hell of a lot longer than Lucian for the lives I’ve taken. Call me a vigilante, or the goddamn Devil. It’s all the same in the eyes of the law.
The tension inside me thickens. I feel like we’re walking a tightrope, except the rope is razor sharp and won’t stop cutting me. If I tell her who I really am, will she push me away? That would make her unsafe. And here I am, justifying my lying again.
Fuck.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
“Yeah, Sunshine,” I reply.
She makes a hmm noise and nods. Perhaps it’s because she believes me, or maybe it’s because she needs to after this asshole lied to her, manipulated her, and took almost everything. I pull up outside her house, swallowing a lump.
“Let’s go inside.”
“What about our stuff?” she asks.
“Let’s have a look around first.”
She nods knowingly, then reaches into the car and cradles Mira to her chest. I led them to the house, one hand near my hip where my gun is, tucked inside my holster.
We skirt around the property, then go in through the back door.
I gesture to her to go behind the kitchen counter, then I clear the rooms one by one.
I know no one’s here. I would hear them. Sense it. But I make sure.
When I return, Mira is still sleeping soundly in her sister’s arms.
“Can I put this one down?” she says.
I nod.
She walks down the hallway. I watch her go, an ache in my gut, her confident figure squeezed into those pale blue denim pants. The strength in her posture, the courage to keep going. She’s something else.
I need to get these cameras sorted out. Did I bring my tools? I grit my teeth. Nope. This would all be easier if I moved them into my place, but I don’t want to shake their lives up anymore than I already have. Still, something to think about.
I open a drawer in the kitchen and pull out a small box. Inside, there are some bolts, pennies, and a small leather-bound book. I flip it open. My breath catches. Polaroid photos of nature, of people in deep conversation, and a dog with its tongue hanging happily out.
“What are you doing?”
I look up at Elle, her posture straight, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Is this yours?”
“Yeah, and it’s stupid.”
“Please, Elle. Goddamn it. Don’t say that.”
“Why not?” She says softly, walking toward the counter and leaning against the other side.
“It’s beautiful. It took the breath away from a cold bastard like me. That’s how you know it means something.”
She rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. “That’s how talent is measured, then? By taking your breath away? By your wise judgment.”
“Yes, I’m wise. Listen to your elders.”
She glares at me, yet smiles. “Don’t start with the old stuff again. Now, be a good boyfriend and hang my security cameras.”
“A good boyfriend might need some encouragement,” I say, walking around the island and taking her hips into my hands. My hunger takes over and I press down on her gorgeous thickness, then pull her toward me.
She places her hand on my chest, pushing me slightly away. But her eyes are lit up, and her breath is coming fast. “Is that the only sort of encouragement you understand?”
I want to slip my hand up her leg, squeeze between her legs, feel the slick admission there, the same ache that’s gripping me. Making my rod grow hard and steely in my pants, even with the emotional war I’ve put her through.
I step back, smiling shakily. “No, Sunshine. Take more photos. Go find your camera.”
She flushes, turning away. “Ha, ha.”
“I’m not joking.”
“You should be. I don’t do that anymore. It was silly and juvenile, and when Mom and Dad’s money runs out, I’ll need to get an actual job.”
“I’m not saying dedicate your whole life to it,” I say fiercely. “But give yourself a goddamn shot.”
“Goddamn? Why do you have to get so angry about it?” She steps forward, fired up, hands clenched into fists at her sides.
I grab her arms and pull her in for a kiss. She gasps at first, pushes against me, but quickly softens, grips my shirt and pulls herself even closer. I glide my hand around her luscious hips, then pull her somehow closer. I’d pull her into me if I could, melt into her.
“You’re… intoxicating,” she says breathily. “Is that something people say? Or is that just plain cheesy?”
“Plain or any other kind,” I groan. “Be as cheesy as you want as long as you keep those kisses coming.”
She leans forward and pushes herself against me. I taste her, caress her tongue, loving the way she shivers against me, how she claws onto me like I’m the only thing keeping her grounded.
“What’s it worth to you, then, for me to find my camera?” She says, all breathy again, making me tight and hard as hell.
“Everything,” I tell her.
She leans back, delighted and powerful. So beautiful it hurts somehow. She seems like she’s playing the role again, or maybe that’s just what she does. Buries things. Rides the waves of good feelings so she isn’t crushed by the bad.
“Okay, well, it’s a hot day. So if you want to work shirtless… I’ll understand.”
I chuckle. “That’s a fair trade.”
She turns away, looking at me over her shoulder, just like she did in the gym. That gorgeous power fills her eyes. She knows I can’t look away from that creamy ass pressed into those jeans, all her begging for me. Her smile twitches, and she walks down the hallway.
I tear off my shirt and lay it on the counter, then walk out to the door. I scan the trees, the road, everywhere. My gun grinds into my back as I lean into the pickup to grab the biggest box.
It turns out she has a toolbox. So, I get to work, doing the front-facing cameras first. I want a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view.
No one gets to sneak up on her. Never.
She appears at the doorway around fifteen minutes later. I’m on a stepladder, mounting the first camera. She looks up, a camera of her own on a strap around her neck, a soft smile on her face. Nervous, flighty.
“Look what I found,” she says, then laughs adorably. “Or maybe I found it in a minute, then spent a long time just staring at it like a doofus.”
“I kind of love and hate that you use the word doofus, Sunshine.”
She smiles, a real one. “Anyway, you can get on with your work. I’ll just be, you know…”
I laugh. “So I’m the subject, am I?”
“You bet your ass you are,” she says, laughing. “You’re my hunk of the month, boyfie.”
“What the hell is boyfie?” I say, laughing harder.
“You know, boyfriend, boyfie.” She giggles, shaking her head. “That’s stupid, isn’t it?”
“I love it, girlfie.”
“We’re lame,” she says, snapping another photo. “Is this what boyfriends and girlfriends do? Do you think we look convincing?”
I grin, but something in me tightens. She was doing that as part of the game. But I’m getting too invested, can’t help it. I feel like I’m digging myself a bigger hole every time I look at her.
“I think so,” I say. “But I’m no expert.”
She sits and aims the camera at the forest. “Mira is out cold,” she murmurs. “That poor girl. She’s holding so much in. So much together.”
“I know,” I say.
“Because you saw it,” she replies. “You saw what it was like that night.”
“Yeah,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Do I…” She croaks. “Do you think I’d want to know?”
I look down at her, sunshine on Sunshine, her eyes wide, her mouth partly open, devastatingly beautiful with her hair curling across her forehead. Messy and sincere, and her. “No, Elle,” I say softly.
She sucks in a breath and nods. “Maybe not yet, then.”
Or ever.
Some things should be reserved for killers like me.
I go on in silence. She looks through the lens of her camera, changing angles, tilting her head. I don’t think even she knows how beautiful she looks when she’s in the flow like that.
As I set up the ladder for the next camera, she turns to me. “Is that what you call a pose, boyfie?” she says.
I smirk, shaking my head. There’s something undeniably magical about a woman who can take darkness and make it fun and playful.
“I didn’t realize I needed to be posing.”
She stands, aiming her camera at me. “And now that you do?”
I grin, leaning over toward the roof, flexing my arm. Her face lights up and she snaps a shot. She’s smiling from ear to ear. Her nickname is earned, hell. Sunshine. That’s what she is. Her own source of light.
“Like it?” I say.
“It’s actually… pretty hot,” she murmurs.
“Don’t do that,” I say, body going tight for an entirely different reason. “I need to finish these cameras. And the motion sensors. He’s not going to sneak up on us again.”
“Don’t talk about him,” she says fiercely. “I know he’s out there. I know it’s bad. I know I have to be scared. But can’t we just pretend… boyfie?”
Maybe she can, but I can’t forget what I am. I can’t pretend not to be a killer. What some would call a monster.
“We can pretend,” I tell her. She has no idea how grateful I am to bury it all deep. It’s what I do best, after all. I swallow the darkness of this world so that other people, better people, rays of pure sunshine don’t have to.
She grins and aims her camera. I pull another pose. She shivers, wriggling her hips from side to side, naturally highlighting the beautiful curvaceousness of her body.
She must see the look on my face. Or maybe it’s the way my abs tense up when she does that.
“You’re very good at making me… interested,” she says.
“Is that code for something?” I groan, trying and failing to return to my work.
“What do you think?”
“I think you want me to take control,” I growl. “I think you want me to climb down this ladder and do what we almost did last night.”
She bites her lip and nods, no shame in her eyes. Only excitement and hunger and maybe a little fear. Of the situation, of the world that won’t just let her live.
“If I don’t finish these cameras and sensors, something bad could happen to you,” I say. “Or Mira. I’d never forgive myself, Elle.”
“Then… finish,” she says, staring at me with those wide sunshine eyes.
I’m going to have to focus on my work. It’s going to take thirty minutes. That’s if I hustle. The whole time, she’s going to be watching me, aiming her camera, making me ache.