Page 73 of Whistleblower

I stare at him and try to keep my mouth from falling open. “I’m going to need a copy of that playbook,” I whisper.

“What?”

“Nothing, sorry. But anyway, the condom is probably best. I didn’t have insurance for a long time, so I haven’t had a chance to get a new IUD. I’m not on birth control right now.”

I must’ve said something wrong. Linc pulls down on his face with both hands. When I finally see his eyes, they look tormented. He looks like he’s debating whether or not to ask the question on his mind. Finally, he gives in. “Do you want children one day?” he asks.

I don’t like the panicked look in his eyes, but I refuse to lie about this. Not to any man, not to anyone. “Yes. But not necessarily right now. And I’m not dead set on how many. But overall, yes. I always figured I’d be a mother eventually. I take it you don’t want children?”

“I can’t.”

“You’re sterile?”

“By choice,” he admits, no longer looking me in the eyes. Linc glances toward the bar, across the restaurant, toward the kitchen…pretty much everywhere but at me.

“What does that mean?”

“I had a vasectomy a very long time ago.”

Oh. “A very long time ago? You’re only twenty-eight.”

Inhaling sharply, he lets out a harsh breath. “I joined PALADIN at sixteen. They gave me a gun, a new name, and a vasectomy.”

I tent my hands over my mouth to cover my gasp. Of course our very tardy waiter returns during the most shocking revelation of the evening.

“Would you like to hear the specials?” he asks as he spreads a napkin over his forearm, pulls the bottle of Prosecco from its melting ice bath, and refills my flute.

My mouth is still covered and my eyes are wide with shock, so Linc collects our menus and hands them to the waiter. “Surprise us.” Linc turns to me. “Do you like pasta?” I nod, but I can’t find my appetite at the moment. Speaking to the waiter again, Linc’s tone is clipped. “Whatever you’d recommend. If it’s good, I promise your tip will be triple the bill.”

The waiter nods enthusiastically. “Thank you, sir, I know just the thing. Any allergies?”

Linc shakes his head, and I follow suit, eager for this waiter to leave the table. The second he’s out of earshot I reach up to stroke Linc’s cheek.

“They castrated you at sixteen? You were just a boy. That’s disgusting. What doctor would do that?”

“Castrate?” Linc reels in response. “No, no—you saw. It still works.” He winks.

I give him a pity laugh. “Poor word choice. I meant neutered. Linc, who makes a sixteen-year-old boy do that? It was too soon to make a decision that’d mark the rest of your life. Vesper asked this of you?”

He cups his hand over mine that’s resting on his cheek. He leans further into my palm. “If it wasn’t for Vesper, I probably would’ve ended up just like the men I rid the world of today. I didn’t have a good childhood, Eden. PALADIN gave me a new life.”

“Well, it certainly asks for a lot in exchange. You can’t get out. You put your life in danger daily. You’ll never have kids, even if you want them? It seems cruel.”

“It’d be cruel for a child to have me as a father.” Pulling my hand away from his face, Linc tucks it back into my lap. He finally grabs his drink, something amber-colored and strong-smelling. He throws it back in one glug.

“Jorey and I aren’t the same,” Linc continues. “Your dad was honor and duty—he was a hero. Do you understand that’s not me? I’m in the shadows because our governments have deemed the things I do to be evil and unacceptable. There’s no medal coming for me, Eden. I’m different, and I thought because of everything you’d gone through with Empress and working off-the-books for the FBI, maybe you would end up a little different too. I thought we had some common ground… But I see now, your life is still promising, while mine’s unsalvageable. Maybe whatever this is between us…will only trap you.” He kisses my forehead. “I don’t want to trap you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Does he really believe that? Is it true?

I had plans. I planned to be married by twenty-six and have my first baby by twenty-eight. Maybe my second two years later. I planned to have my house paid off by forty and have a million dollars in the bank not too long after. I promised myself I’d start a charity—there were so many causes I wanted to support, I wasn’t sure which direction I’d go, but I was determined to help someone, somehow. I signed up for a golden life but I missed all the fine print.

I didn’t expect to lose my dad after he retired from one of the most dangerous jobs in the world. I never planned to be a whistleblower. Bankruptcy, debt, fear… I didn’t plan for any of that. And I definitely didn’t plan to fall for an assassin who is charming and tender. Linc and I make no sense on paper. But right now, looking into his beautiful icy, hot eyes—it’s clear as day.

Fuck the plan.

Grabbing the notecard, I rip it straight down the center. I line up the pieces and do it again. I don’t stop until I have pink confetti on the table. I act nonchalant as I brush the pieces to the edge of the table.

“I hope the waiter picks the lobster ravioli. It sounds divine.”

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