Page 12 of Lesson In Forgiveness

The last two weeks hadn’t been focused on her target. She’d accumulated enough data on Elias Mitchell during her month of research to understand killing him was, as Jasper told her, against her code of justice.

He loved his wife, his husband. Despite the odd games he played with them at night, he truly loved them both. She’d seen that for herself when she slipped out of the bedroom closet after they’d fallen asleep in a tangle of exhausted limbs and heavy, slow breathing.

Hotel rooms were incredibly easy to breach.

In time, she’d end her side of the contract on his life. There were measures she needed to put in place before she did so; no doubt, someone would be sent after her as soon as she terminated the agreement, which meant a return trip to Ireland to hunt down the fucker who hired her.

The delay also meant no one else should attempt a hit on Elias.

Should being the operative word; contract killers abided by a code of ethics—no poaching—but there were some who thought they were above that silent code.

Sitting in the shade provided by a cluster of boxelder maple trees, Tabitha searched the construction site with her binoculars. She’d had to spend a couple days wandering around in the forest after she escaped Grit’s presence, but she’d used the time wisely, sourcing the best positions for continued reconnaissance.

Hitchhiking back to the city had been arduous, but the truck driver hauling fallen trees for the forestry commission further up the valley had been pleasant enough… once she’d warned him what would happen if he dared be otherwise.

“Where are you, big boy?” she murmured, scanning the hive of activity below her. She was absolutely sure he hadn’t returned to Arizona; the contract was still live. “What have we here?”

Oh, now he was just spoiling her fun. A pout kissed her lips as she studied one of the crew, then jerked the binoculars over to another. Unlike her current obsession, the two men stood out like nudists at a church. They weren’t blending in, contributing to the working population; they wandered about, assessing everything they saw, and one even kept sliding his hand to his hip as though checking his weapon.

“Nervous nelly,” she said aloud, a giggle bubbling up. “It might be amusing to play with you, nelly.”

Had she spooked Rory McCabe so badly he’d called in backup, she wondered with a smirk, or was it a case of Atticus doing the noble thing and protecting his asset? Maybe a bit of both, she mused. After all, she’d always been on the good guy side of the fence during a fight; they knew some of what she was capable of, but not all.

Finally, she found Grit. She let the binoculars linger on him, taking in his rugged build. He knew how to fit in with the crew, she thought in approval, watching him cross to one of the rapidly growing buildings with a stack of planks over his shoulder. He was alert, aware of his surroundings, yet simply one of the guys.

Tabitha snorted. What a stupid saying. If a man had a dick, he was one of the guys.

Little tufts of dark blond hair peeked from beneath his hard hat. The scruff on his face was a lighter shade; he’d look much better with a beard than just that stubble. Perhaps she’d tell him that when she next saw him.

With that in mind, she checked her watch. It was a two-hour hike back to her jeep, and she had other things to do before she went on a nocturnal adventure. With one last look at the man who took up more space in her head than she liked, she packed up her gear and headed back.

*

Grit

Leaving Austin and Kyle on protection detail didn’t sit well with him, but he was exhausted. Six weeks of an assignment that shouldn’t have lasted a fucking week was taking its toll, especially now he had firsthand experience of Tabitha’s skills and mental deficit.

Both men were armed, trained to Atticus’s exacting standards, but they were young and a little too cocky for Grit’s liking. From an eavesdropped conversation, he gathered they believed they could take Tabitha down with ease—not unlike he had—but she’d wipe the floor with the pair of them if they maintained that attitude.

Still, that was a lesson they would learn the hard way.

Carrying his takeout box in one hand, a six-pack in the other, he wrestled his hotel door open, stepped through, and slammed it shut with a sigh of relief. Locking it again, he toed off his boots, carried his meal to the couch, and indulged in his first night off in what felt like forever.

Asking Atticus to send support to Denver stung his pride, but after a month solo, it was obvious this assignment was going to be longer than anticipated. There was only so much he could do alone before standards began slipping, and accidents happened.

With an appreciative groan for the comfiness of the couch, Grit switched the TV on with one hand and flipped open the pizza box with the other. Flicking through the channels, he finally settled on an action movie—mainly to critique the hell out of the fight scenes—and selected his slice.

Movie, food, and a beer. Not much more a man could ask for on a Friday night. Well, aside from the obvious, of course—a soft, warm woman to share the pizza and beer, pull apart the action flick, and roll under him later on when the lights were out.

Fuck, he missed Avalon. His membership there was new, but the kinky side of him was an energy he’d possessed since around the time he discovered what his dick could do to a willing woman. He found it relaxing to swing by the club on his nights off, find a play partner who enjoyed the same things he did, and lose himself in not only the kink, but the aftercare.

He fucking loved aftercare.

There was something soothing about holding a woman when she’d given him her all. Cuddling her close, wiping away the sweat and tears, letting her sip water bit by bit until her breathing calmed and her eyes refocused.

Sometimes, aftercare was more vital to the empty spaces inside him than all the restraints, floggers, butt plugs, and toys in the world.

Although the pizza went down fast, Grit rationed himself to just two beers. It was rare he drank to excess anyway, but a two-drink limit was habit now. Tonight, even though he was technically off-duty, he wanted to be ready to go if Austin or Kyle requested assistance.

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