Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 50080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 250(@200wpm)___ 200(@250wpm)___ 167(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 250(@200wpm)___ 200(@250wpm)___ 167(@300wpm)
I expect Kayra to get off my lap as soon as I lift my head, but instead she rubs her face against my chest like a feral little kitten that's feeling affectionate...for now.
It probably won't last, but I'll take what I can get. The way she stays quiet in my arms is soothing, and having beer burn down my throat eventually gets rid of the tightness in my throat.
I know I can't keep delaying the inevitable, and so I hear myself ask, "Do you know how I know Thomas?"
"Because he's Tahey's father?"
God, this is harder than I thought.
But then I feel Kayra stiffly wrapping her arms around my waist, and the pain eases as I find myself suppressing my smile. I've never had someone try so awkwardly to comfort me, and it's just killing me how cute she is every time she attempts to do something normal.
God, I love her.
And it's true.
I don't even know how it fucking happened, but all I know is that I've changed, and I'm now seeing things the way Kayra sees them. Just like it only takes an instant to know if our chemistry either fizzles or sizzles, it also takes a single earth-shattering moment to know if the love is there or not—-
And it is.
I love her, plain and simple.
I love every crazy, cold-blooded, cute inch of her, and it's this knowledge that helps me get the rest of the words out.
"Paige was in the army with me."
Kayra's stunned gaze flies up to mine. "You were in the army?"
"My records are classified, and so are hers." I take another sip of beer to prepare myself for what I'm about to say next. "We were in South America when we had one of those days where everything just went spectacularly wrong. It was just Paige and me and five other hostages, and when she got shot, she insisted we all go ahead, and that she'd catch up with us."
Kayra pulls away at this, and the first thing I notice is the unusual bleakness of her eyes. "But she never did, did she?"
"She was one of the slaves sold to Thomas," I say tonelessly.
"And she never made it out alive."
A curt nod is the only thing I can manage. I know Thomas was a different man back then, and even though I've forgiven him for what he's done—-the thought of Paige's death still hurts, and it likely always will.
My heart is unprepared when Kayra suddenly cups my face. I figured she'd say sorry the way most other people would—-
"What must I do to ease the pain?"
But I should've known better, shouldn't I? She'll never do what's normal, and thank fuck for that, since what I'm about to ask of her isn't normal either.
"I want you to promise you'll always do what it takes to stay alive for me," I say roughly. "Even if it means choosing between staying human or letting the monster out—-I want you to choose to live. For me."
Kayra and I will always be crazier than perfectly right, and I wouldn't want it any other way.
"I can promise that, but—-"
"But what, dammit?"
"But have you forgotten I'm pseudopsychopathic, and not suicidal?"
The way she doesn't even batt an eyelash while saying this tells me she's serious, and I'm not sure whether I'm damn lucky or just damned by God to have fallen in love with someone like her.
"And besides, I'm not really that easy to kill, you know?"
God.
How does she fucking kill me every time she says something? How is she so damn cute and crazy at the same time? I make my mind up then and there to tell her I love her, but before I can even say a word—-
"I really don't like seeing you sad and hurt like this," Kayra mutters.
Those words sound a little too human for her, so maybe instead of telling her I love her, it might be more appropriate to ask her if she's feeling well?
"Will it help if we fuck?" she asks with utter seriousness.
Then again, maybe it's also best I let nature take its course, and so if my darling Kayra thinks fucking will help ease my sadness and hurt—-
"Yes," I say in equal seriousness. "I think it will, and the sooner, the better, too."
Chapter Ten
THE BAR OWNER'S GAZE turns sly when he sees Rake practically leaping off the stool and dragging me away with him with so much haste he's making it seem like both of us are about to poop at any moment. Most of the other customers we walk past also gape at us, and the way their expressions shift from recognition (Rake) to shock (me) is telling. Practically everyone here seems to know Rake one way or another, and I have a feeling news of us being together will have his world (FBI) and mine (mafia) turn upside-down even before this day is over.