Chapter 14 He’s Just Like Them
HE’S JUST LIKE THEM
CALISTA
Iwake with a start.
I look around and settle back in bed. The space next to me is warm. He must’ve just left.
I get up and see a robe has been placed at the foot of the bed. It’s black. Silk. My size.
I put it on.
My bag is still in the living room with my phone. I need to call the shelter and tell them I won’t be coming in today. Can’t. I want to stay with Lucian.
I smile at the thought, blushing when I remember how he made me come last night.
I step out of the bedroom.
The apartment is quiet except for the faint hum of the fridge and Lucian’s low voice drifting in from the hallway. I follow the sound to the gym.
Then I hear my name and stop outside the door, not making my presence known.
“I’m going to protect her.”
Who’s he talking to?
“I know, but that’s not happening.”
Pause.
“Damn it, Adrian, get it into your thick head, I will not kill Calista Ferraro. And I don’t care if they’ve taken a contract out on me for reneging.”
Pause.
“I know I took the fucking contract. But I can’t.”
My blood turns to ice. My heart hammers loudly.
“Why? Damn it, Gideon, because she’s not like…she matters.”
Lucian’s voice is sharp, frayed at the edges. I put a hand on the wall to steady myself. My knees are buckling.
“Adrian, I’m not taking advice from you, considering you’ve recently fucked a woman who isn’t your wife.”
There’s a beat of silence.
“No, this conversation is over. Lucian, out.”
Silence again.
I step away and numbly walk back into the bedroom. It feels like a stranger’s space now when a moment ago it had felt safe, like home.
I look at the bed with the rumpled black sheets, the bed that we shared last night, where we almost consummated us.
Now, it all feels borrowed.
False.
Built on a lie.
“You’re up.” He comes inside the bedroom, walking to me.
He’s in joggers and nothing else. He looks good. Like a model on a billboard. Not mine.
“You were hired to kill me,” I say flatly, looking at the floor.
He stops. No, he freezes. Yes, that is the correct word.
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I saw you. I got to know you.”
“But you were going to.”
“Yes.”
I look at him. There’s misery in his eyes, but also resignation. He knew this would happen. He didn’t preempt it.
“Is this what you do?”
“Yes.” There is no hesitation on his end.
“Kill people?”
“Yes.” A confession without a defense.
“You’re just like all those men I left behind in Sicily. Aren’t you?”
“I don’t know those men.”
I give him a sad smile. “Now that’s a prevarication if I’ve ever heard one. You know them. You are them.”
“Maybe,” he admits.
It’s like high noon. We’re both standing our ground, hearts exposed, guns drawn. Neither of us is willing to fire the first shot.
The air between us is charged, humming with everything we’re too afraid to say.
One step forward, and we crash together.
One step back, and it all falls apart.
I step back.
“I can’t.” I shake my head and look down at my feet.
“It’s not safe for you to leave.”
“I don’t care.”
“Calista,” he growls.
He steps forward. Grips my chin. Raises my face, forcing me to look at him. “It’s not safe.”
“I’ve never been safe,” I tell him. “I came here…to be with you.”
“I’ll keep you safe.”
“You can’t both be my monster and my hero, Lucian.”
“Why not?”
He’s not stoic anymore; there is panic in his eyes. I’ve seen it before when I asked him for pain pills.
“I want to go home.”
“Don’t do this.” He isn’t pleading, but he also is.
How do I know this man so well when we’ve only just met?
I step back, again, freeing myself from his touch.
“You were hired by the man I ran from. The one who wanted to break me. And you almost did it. How am I supposed to live with that?”
“You were never supposed to know.”
“Oh, so I should thank you for protecting the lie?”
Silence.
“I thought you were different,” I whisper. “I thought you were better than him.”
He closes his eyes for a moment, lets out a ragged breath. He opens his eyes slowly. There is no panic now. Just acceptance.
“I’ll take you home.”
“No. I’ll go myself.”
“Calista, it’s not safe,” he grits out.
“Not you, then.” I look away, crossing my arms.
It’ll hurt to say goodbye. It’ll hurt too much.
Oh, for God’s sake, stop being maudlin, you just met this man!
But my soul spoke to his. We are kindred spirits.
“Okay,” he agrees.
He sends me down the elevator in the cashmere pajamas, and the bra and panties he got me.
A man is waiting for me right outside the elevator. “Hi.”
I feel unsafe without Lucian. But I can’t stay with him. He’s a killer. He’s like my father, my grandfather, my uncle, and Remo.
I can’t go back to that life.
“I’m Logan Maddox.” He holds out a hand.
I shake it.
“I’m that asshole’s brother. I’m nicer and better looking.”
I let out a watery chuckle.
I want to cry.
As he drives me home, he asks me questions.
Where do you live?
Where do you work?
Simple nonsense. Small talk to fill the air.
When I ask him what he does, he simply says computers. I can sense there’s more to it, but it’s none of my business.
He walks me to my apartment. When I’m about to close the door after I say thank you, he holds it open. “He didn’t kill you.”
I nod. “Then why does it still feel like I died?”