Page 7 of Faker

“Cat,” I tell her.

“No,” she gasps, petting the cat’s head. “You need to give him a proper name.”

“Why?” I ask, running my knuckles over my jaw.

“Because everyone needs a cute name.” She softly sets him on his three paws and he keeps circling her legs and brushing up against her. She hunches down and tickles him behind his ear, and I grind my teeth together. Now I’m fucking jealous of my cat.

“We’re going to think of a good name for you,” she coos.

“Did you want anything to drink?” I ask, and the way she flinches tells me I have to rein it in. I can’t be a grumpy son of a bitch when I don’t get what I want, if I want her to do what I want in the bedroom. We made a deal but it isn’t going to work if she is scared all the damn time. I might like it better if she’s scared, but something tells me this is different. No, I shake my head, I’m going to fuck her and that’s it.

“Tea,” she says. Storm looks around awkwardly, biting on her bottom lip. “And could I go to the bathroom?”

“You don’t have to fucking ask,” I bite out and storm into the open kitchen. I grab the marble counter for support and yell, “In here you’re mine, but if you need to go the fucking bathroom, you don’t need to ask my permission.”

She follows me into the kitchen. “What is your name, by the way?” She barely dares to look at me.

I frown. “Why do you want to know?” What’s the point of her knowing my name when this is going to end? We’re only going to fuck.

She bites on her bottom lip again, and her toes curl in the socks she’s wearing. “I thought if we’re doing this, I should at least know your name.”

“Really?” I ask, frowning some more and crossing my arms in front of my chest while I keep glaring at her.

“Oh, forget it,” she bites out, and when her eyes land on mine, she knows she’s made a mistake by defying me like this.

I let it slide this time. “Minki,” I tell her. “But my friends call me Summer.” Dipping my chin in her direction, I run an awkward hand through my hair. Why did I blab about my nickname? “Don’t fucking laugh,” I warn, and she nods, trying to hide her smile.

She repeats my name, and I like the way it sounds coming from her. All husky and nothing like I’ve heard before. I don’t tell the women I occasionally meet my real name, easier that way. They don’t need to know; I already hate I told her my nickname.

“You already know mine, right?” she asks.

I nod. “Storm,” I grunt, and she blushes while her eyes dart around my kitchen. She points in the direction of my bathroom.

“Okay, so if you don’t mind, I would like to take a shower as well, after everything, I need it.”

I run both hands over my face. “Fine, towels are in the closet in the bathroom,” I tell her, watching every move she makes, studying her tells.

“Thank you.” She hesitates and looks from me to the cat and back at me again.

“What?” I snarl, like the asshole I am. She flinches and shakes her head while she hugs herself. Damn. I run an awkward hand through my hair. Rein it in, I tell myself. “You need anything else?” I really have no idea what women need.

“No.” She shakes her head. “I’m going to go,” she says while tears spring to her eyes and she turns around, bolting out of the room. I wait until I hear her footsteps echoing down the hallway. She can’t leave, I locked the door, and she doesn’t know the password. Cat jumps up on the counter and stares at me and starts to lick his one front paw while I search for tea bags in all the cabinets. I shrug off my jacket and take off my armpit holsters and secure the guns in a vault next to the fridge.

“I know, Cat, okay?” I mumble. “Don’t look at me like that. I don’t have shit, and now I have to order things all because of her,” I say in Korean under my breath. My time in America learning the ropes from my uncle in Vegas didn’t change me much. My English got better though.

“I’m sorry,” she says. Fuck, I didn’t hear her come in. She starts to turn around, and I reach out and grab her arm. Those red-rimmed eyes land on mine. Why didn’t I hear her sneak up on me? She’s good, I’ll probably have to sleep with one eye open, but she’s worth it. Storm looks at the way my fingers curl around her arm, and I can almost wrap my hand around her. Shit, she’s thin. When she’s taking a shower, I’m going to order some food, I can’t have her passing out with what I’m planning to do. Maybe I do want her to pass out, but by my hand alone, not because she hasn’t eaten in days.

“I don’t have anything to wear,” she whispers. “I mean, I can put this on again,” she says, looking at the clothes she’s wearing.

“No, I’ll get you something and leave it in front of the bathroom door,” I say, letting her go. She opens her mouth like she wants to say something, instead she rubs Cat behind his ear and smiles before it falls again and she turns around to head into the bathroom with hunched shoulders.

I lean against the kitchen island and cross my arms over my chest. Cat bops his head against my shoulder, and I curse under my breath. I’m fucked, because I know she’s going to make me pay one way or the other.

TALK

Storm

I lean against the bathroom door and scan the room. I don’t know why I took control and said I needed to take a shower. Who does this when you arrive at someone else’s place? I needed some distance between me and him. This was it or starting to cry like some five-year-old kid who gets bullied on the freaking playground. I’m in way over my head. He looks more intimidating in this empty million-dollar apartment, and somehow lonely, too. I don’t know what I’m doing. He’s only using me, and I don’t know if and when this ends, he’s really going to keep his end of the deal.

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