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I nodded, but it still sent a chill down my spine. “You were sent to kill me, weren’t you?” Of all the ways to die, at the hands of Constantine Bateman would have been my last guess.
He hesitated in answering, but I really didn’t need him to answer to know I was correct – I could see the look of guilt in his eyes.
“Why didn’t you?”
“Why didn’t I what?” He ran a hand through his dark hair and looked off into nowhere. Anything to avoid looking at me eye to eye.
“Kill me. Was bumping into me on the subway an accident?”
“God, Robyn, why are we putting ourselves through this? You know the answers, why are you making me say it?”
“Because I need to hear it.”
He inhaled deeply and slowly exhaled. “I was sent to kill you. The night before I not so accidentally ran into you, I was camped out on the roof of the building adjacent to your building.”
“Why?”
“I was up there with a sniper rifle and was planning on shooting you through your window.”
“Did you know it was me when you took the job?” He couldn’t have. The father of my child would never have gone to the roof of a building and aimed a rifle at me had he known who it was.
