Page 96 of Hearts Of Darkness

My head snaps in Joseph’s direction.

“Time to go.”

He’s right. We need to keep moving—toward the next kill, the next country, the next drama. A wave of tiredness hits me square in the chest. For a moment, I imagine what it feels like to have a father like Myers. Someone to laud my achievements instead of beating the shit out of me for not killing quick enough. But those kinds of thoughts will always be pointless. I was born bad. The end result was always going to justify the means.

“Shopping time’s over,” I declare, swinging the door open for Eve. She disappears into the SUV without looking up at me. I follow, keeping my temper in check as she positions herself as far away from me as possible.

“Update from my team in Colombia,” says Tomas, passingme his iPad. “He’s heading south to Salamina.”

I take the device and skim the details, but I find myself glancing at Eve’s profile more, those soft pouty lips, her sweet, upturned nose. Her hair was still wet from the shower when we left the house and she’s twisted it up into some kind of messy bun. I want to tear the bands out and run my fingers through it, re-forging our connection and binding her back to me. She won’t stop gazing out of the damn window, and it’s starting to piss me off.

Passing the iPad back to Tomas, I try to take her hand, but she pulls it out of reach. I clench my jaw and chalk it up as another fucking disobedience. This was meant to be an amusing outing, but it’s turned into a juxtaposition of hell.

I know how her mind works. She’s sitting there listing all the reasons why we shouldn’t be together. There are too many in the ‘against’ column and only one in the ‘for’, and I intend to remind her of it for the rest of the afternoon.

29

EVE

This was always going to happen. Still, I figured it would be on my terms when it did. So much of the last few months has been dictated and governed by him. I just hoped it would be something I’d have a little control over—a meeting set at my own pace. I hadn’t counted on the element of surprise, and now it’s a mess. A horrible, twisted mess.

Seeing Dante and my father together stirred up so many unwelcome memories for me. I was right back in that hospital room again, begging for mercy, begging for us both. Casting Dante as the ruthless killer, and not as the smart, conflicted man I’ve come to know.

I’m hurt and angry, too. He ignored my pleas for a guarantee not to harm my father. As a result, it’s broken something between us.

Then, there’s the lie he told—the one about his daughter. He knows I’ve seen the photographs.Did he think I’d simply forget about her? I assumed that with so much deception flying about there’d be some transparency between us.

I’m so naïve.

This man will never open up to me. I will always be an outsider, even in his bed.

“Take me back to my apartment, Dante.”

There’s a pause. “Fine. I need to debrief Manuel anyway.”

“You mean you’re going beat the shit out of him again for daring to make friends with my father instead of pointing a gun at his head.” My words are as vicious as my temper.

Dante exhales loudly before reeling off my address to Joseph.Must he memorize every damn detail of my life?

We pull up to the curb just as Anna is slipping out of my apartment block still wearing her red dress from the night before.

“Walk of shame!” she says with a grin, when she spots me exiting the vehicle, and then she stops abruptly when Dante appears next to me. “Seems I’m not the only one.” She raises her eyebrows in my direction, and I know I’ve got some serious explaining to do.

“Is Manuel awake?” snaps Dante, as Joseph exits the vehicle as well.

Anna glances at the tall American, and her eyebrows disappear again. “Wow, Evie, that’s some company you’re keeping. You and Ireallyneed to have that catch-up later.”

“I’d like that.” I step forward to give her a quick hug. “Did you have fun?” I whisper.

“Oh yes,” she says, pulling away, her green eyes glittering with mischief. “He was definitely worth the wait.”

“Manuel,” repeats Dante, his deep drawl slicing throughour conversation. “Is he up?”

I reach out to touch his arm, silently beseeching my friend to answer.Hurry Anna, he doesn’t like to ask twice.

“Err, yeah, he’s up,” she says, staring down at my hand.

I feel a wave of sadness suddenly. In other circumstances she would have fired back with one of her feisty replies, something like, “Don’t be silly, he’s been up all-night ha ha.”

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