Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66515 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66515 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Aaron is standing in front of Smith, and Savage is now facing them both, but he isn’t moving. And it’s easy to see why. Smith’s gun is shoved at Aaron’s chest, but it’s clear that Aaron is the one who walked up on him. He’s daring him to shoot him. Savage is hovering in their profile. The air pops and cracks with hyped-up energy.
Blake steps to my side. “Smith,” he warns, his voice low, tight. “Don’t do something stupid, man. This isn’t you. This isn’t even close to you.”
“I hate this bastard,” Smith says. “He’s not what he pretends to be.”
“Then hate him,” Savage says. “But not like this. Bitches gotta brawl. Drop the gun, Smith. You want a piece of Aaron, do it without the gun. You got a better chance.”
“You do get that I have the fucking gun, right, Savage?”
“He knows I can take it,” Aaron says, and then I yelp as he does. Aaron takes the damn gun and hands it to Savage and then pins Smith in a stare. “I didn’t kill you because I don’t kill misplaced assholes like yourself. I kill monsters and scum.”
He made taking Smith’s gun look easy. He made Smith look bad. I feel for Smith, but God, why did he have to pull his gun? I know he’s worried about me. I need to talk to him. I need to make him see that I’m okay. I need to thank him for worrying. But I need him to stop coming at Aaron, too. I hold my breath for what comes next, for how Smith will respond to this. Beside me, Blake leans on the island, toward the exchange, his body in confrontation mode, his gaze colliding with Savage’s, a silent exchange between them as Smith keeps pushing, his eyes locked on Aaron. “I could have shot you,” he says. “You know that, right?”
“But you didn’t,” Aaron says. “You blinked, and you blinked because you’re not the guy who kills people just because they pissed you off. What you can’t seem to understand is that I’m not either or you’d already be dead. I kill scum. I kill people who need to die.”
“You don’t get to make that judgment,” Smith snaps. “You aren’t God.”
“Your problem with me isn’t just about Ashley then. You don’t like my career choice.”
“You don’t get to decide who lives and who dies,” he repeats.
“Tell that to the CIA who sent me to kill every one of the people I killed,” Aaron says. “Tell that to the innocent people who every scumbag I killed hurt.”
“How many?” Smith demands.
“It doesn’t matter how many,” I shout out, my heart racing all over again. “Don’t answer, Aaron. It doesn’t matter.”
Aaron never looks away from Smith. “I know what you’re trying to do,” he says. “You want her to see me as one of the monsters I kill. She’s right. The number doesn’t matter. I killed Mick’s family. They weren’t scum. I proved that I’m human and capable of mistakes. I hope for your sake, man, you never live that kind of mistake, because you’ll learn what I learned. It haunts you. And I also hope that you don’t have someone like you telling your woman you’re a monster when she’s the only one keeping you sane.” His voice lowers, but somehow, it’s harder, darker. Sharper. “We don’t have a problem over the gun and this bullshit you just pulled, but she’s not for you. You forget that, and we have a problem.” He turns away and faces Blake. “Where are we right now?”
“In the respect zone,” Blake says. “And that’s not an easy place to get with me.”
Aaron gives a nod and looks at me. “More pizza?”
“No,” I whisper. “I think I’m done with pizza, and for the record, men and their cock fights. I’m really done with men and their cock fights.”
Savage gives me a wink. “Boys will be boys, babe. You just have to go with the flow.”
Aaron closes the space between me and him and offers me his hand. It’s a question. Am I with him?
I don’t even hesitate. I feel this man’s pain, and he does feel pain. Smith doesn’t see that. Most people won’t see that but I do. I see him, the real him. The man who gave up everything to take down a cartel leader. A man who became what he is today because of that one sacrifice that became a lifetime of sacrifice and service. I believe in who and what he is, and why he does what he does. He’s right. Smith isn’t for me. Smith doesn’t understand. Smith is perhaps better than me and Aaron together, because I can do what Aaron can do: justify why his existence, his skills are necessary. Smith and I are not alike, but Aaron and I are, which may or may not be good, but it feels right. We feel right. This man is a part of me, and I no longer have to live without him. My hands settle on his palm and his eyes narrow, going from warm to hot instantly. They promise passion. They promise intensity. They promise forever. But what he says is simple. “Let’s go get that shower and some rest.”