Page 55 of We're Not Strangers Anymore

“I didn’t kill people for a living, Row. I ran an empire. I just killed people for survival. There’s a difference.”

“So, I’m supposed to just trust that after years of being in the business, you can go on about a normal life?”

“Yes. As much as I hate to tell you this– after years of meaningless sex with random women, I was quick to commit my life to you, Rowan. This is no different.”

I roll my eyes, turning to face Grayson. “Sure. But what happens when the infatuation wears off and you get bored?”

He rests his hands on the counter on either side of me and leans so close to my face that I can smell his worn off cologne mixed with his natural scent. “Impossible. I’m not ‘infatuated’. I’m addicted. Addicts don’t quit their drug of choice out of boredom,” he presses his forehead to mine and locks eyes with me. “So what would make me want to quit, Row?” I think for a moment, feeling uncomfortable at how emotional this feels. “I don’t wash my hands after I pee.”

He leans back, looking down at me with a slight grin. “Gross. But not enough, try again.”

I bite my bottom lip, trying to think of anything I can say to steer him away. “I don’t know, Grayson. Things get repetitive. People get bored. What makes us different?”

He takes a step back. “You’re a cynical little thing, you know. What makes us different? I kidnapped you and you still fell in love with me, Row. I spent an entire year with watching you being my favorite pastime. We’ve spent months apart and yet we still came back to each other.”

“Youmade me come back.” I interrupt.

“And how much did I really have to convince you, Row?”

I stand there, silently. Having some sort of insult or snarky comeback is just an impulse I have with Grayson. But in reality, there’s no reason I should be giving him so much pushback anymore. It’s fear. Not fear of Grayson, but fear that my feelings will end up hurting me. The bruises my father left on me always faded, but the pain associated with emotions? That’s not something I’ll be able to ice if things don’t work out. My thought is that– if I never fully open myself up to Grayson, or anyone for that matter, I can at least walk away with some dignity. I’ve been so hot and cold with him it’s a wonder how he’s not mentally exhausted of me.

“I have to go meet Luciano. Try not to overthink everything, okay?” Oh I won’t.I have a better idea.

Grayson

Frank leans back on his chair, a smug grin plastered on his face. His two guards stand like statues, guns trained on us. Luciano and I are slightly outnumbered, but we’re not about to let that stop us.

Frank’s eyes flick between us, amusement playing on the corners of his mouth. “You’ve got some balls, I’ll give you that– walking in here, making demands.” He laughs. Luciano stands to my right, his posture is relaxed but I can feel him ready to strike. Just waiting for the right moment. “We’re not here to make demands,” he says smoothly. “We’re here to end this.”

Frank chuckles. “End this huh? You think you boys are walking out of here alive?”

My gaze locks onto Frank, my jaw tight. “That’s exactly what we think.” The weight of the gun at my side is comforting, but I keep my hands loose to avoid triggering his guards.

The bodyguard in front of me shifts slightly, his finger twitching on the trigger. I can see the tension in his stance, the readiness to pull the trigger at any moment. Frank notices too, his grin widening. “It’s over. You walked into the lion's den-”

A single gunshot echoes through the large room, cutting off Frank’s words. For a split second, time seems to slow. The guard in front of me jerks, his eyes widening as a red bloom spreads across his chest. He crumples to the ground, and all hell breaks loose.

“Now!” Luciano barks, and I’m already moving.

I draw my gun in one fluid motion, firing at the next guard before he has a chance to react. My shot hits home and he goes down with a grunt, clutching his side as blood pools beneath him. Frank fumbles with his gun, panic written all over his face. He barely gets off a shot before Luciano puts him down, a clean shot to the head. We both turn in sync with our guns drawn as we hear the click of heels against the cement floor.

As soon as I see her, my gun falls from my hands. “Rowan? What the fuck are you doing here?” I snap.

“I believe you meant to say ‘thank you’. I came to help, looks like I did.”

“You fucking shot that guard? What thefuckis wrong with you? You call that help? You put yourself in the middle of agoddamn shootout, Rowan, you could have been killed!” I feel heat rising to my cheeks.

“Hold up,” Luciano interrupts, with a sly grin on his face. “How did you get such a clean shot?!” He starts laughing and high-fives her like this shits funny.

“Sniper scope, I was right up there.” She points to the pipe work on the high ceiling of the unfinished building.

“So you came down here and didn’t even bring it with you just in case, real fuckin’ smart, Rowan.”

She shoots me a scowl. “I was helping you because I knew my dad wouldn’t be dumb enough to not have protection, unlike you,” she looks over at Luciano. “No offense.” Luciano smiles and shakes his head at her comment.

My eyes lock onto Luciano. “Youshouldn’t have killed Frank right away, I had plans for him,” I look back over at Rowan, my jaw tightening. “Andyou– you shouldn’t even fuckin’ be here.”

She crosses her arms, smirking at me. “I thought we could beBonnie and Clyde.”Her and her fucking jokes.

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