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So I tell her. Everything short of who and maybe just how many people I have killed. She wants to know about me, not what I’ve done.
That sticks out for me more than anything.
“My brother and I were fostered into a military family when we were really young, grew up thinking it was the only way of life. Living on a base or near one, moving once in a while. We both knew we were soldiers long before we went for basic training…”
Far from bored with my life story, Stephanie wants to know all the tiny details, most of which I have trouble remembering. But it feels good to be able to talk to someone about things I spend most days trying to bury just that little bit deeper.
She goes quiet once I get to the part that got me where I am now—the situation we’re both in.
I’ve never told a living soul about Jase and that night in the jungle. Stephanie’s head is against my shoulder by now, her body glued to mine as we drive.
“We were set up by our own people. It should’ve been me going first, but Jase went. Didn’t matter in the end. They all got the same.”
If there was ever anything to ruin a mood, it's relaying my life story over a long drive. But Stephanie never flinches or shies from asking me pointed questions.
She goes quiet after a while, only taking the time after a long silence to tell me the one thing nobody ever has. And from her lips, it's all I’ve ever needed to hear.
“It wasn't your fault, Logan. And I know it's not the same, but yeah. I know how it feels to have someone taken from you. Someone you care about.”
She could have quizzed me about the people I've killed, about how I live with myself because of it, but that’s how I know she's the right girl for me.
She sees the man, not what he's done. See who I could be over who I am right now. And if she’s by my side from today, I know that everything that’s brought us together will be worth it.
“Is it too soon for me to care about you?” I ask. Asking myself aloud, I guess. I’ve never actually been much of a people person.
“It’s never too soon for that,” she whispers, snuggling deeper into me until she’s asleep again.
It’s been months since I’ve driven to the one place I know nobody else could find me. Mercenary assassin pays very well, but there is a lot of upkeep.
Houses, apartments, cabin by a lake, which is where we’re headed. A dozen identities as well as the full-time keeping up appearances as a day trader working from home. It made the killing part feel easy.
Stephanie has convinced me without saying a word. My new life, our life. It starts now. If she can leave my past behind, I’ll leave it there too.
CHAPTER 9
Stephanie
Iwake up in a big bed, but it’s not mine. I think I already prefer this one though.
It takes me a while to adjust to the brilliant morning sun until I can see where I am.
A lake. A beautiful lake.
The scent of fresh coffee, bacon, and warm bread only adds to the scenery shortly before Logan appears. A tray with everything I can smell times two on it.
It feels like last night never even happened. The important stuff did, I’m gonna be feeling that for a few days yet. Seeing Logan, beaming a smile in nothing but an apron, carrying food no less—his perfect man rendition just gets better the more time passes.
“I thought we’d have breakfast in bed,” he tells me, but his eyes have already moved from mine to what I know he's really thinking about.
The front of his apron sticks up like a big top tent in seconds, making me snort a laugh.
Food can wait. And if I want to get over my saddle soreness, the best cure is to get straight back on. I think that's how it goes.
The tray has legs that fold down, which Logan illustrates, flattering me with breakfast in bed but not really surprising me when he unties his apron.
In moments he’s showing me how my legs work again, his thick, strong hands running up my thighs as he helps himself to what he’s clearly having for breakfast.
“Logan!” I shriek. “What about eating?”
