Page 75 of The Cleaner

Lisa stares up at me, her eyes wide and filled with fear. “Yes,” she confesses.

My blood runs cold as Lisa's admission sinks in. The woman I love, the one I've been trying to protect, is the very person I've been trying to locate. I feel her trembling in my arms, but I can't bring myself to let her go.

"Jesus Christ," I mutter, my mind reeling.

Jer lets out a low whistle. "Well, fuck me sideways. Didn't see that coming."

I want to punch him in the face, but I can't seem to move. Lisa's grip on me tightens, her fingers digging into my shirt.

"Please," she whispers, her voice cracking. "I can explain. Please, just let me explain,” she says so only I can hear her. “Don’t leave,” she begs.

Fuck, does she actually think I’d leave? I slide my hand around the back of her neck, pulling her close to me. I lower my mouth on hers and kiss her deeply, desperately. I pour everything I'm feeling into that kiss—my fear, my anger, my confusion, but most of all, my love for her. When I pull back, I see tears glistening in her eyes. The scent of her perfume fills my nostrils and it hits me why the smell of Jasmine has always been so familiar to me. It’s become of Lisa. Shit, I should have seen it, I should have realized. Fuck. "I'm not going anywhere," I growl, low enough for only her to hear. "But we need to get the fuck out of here, now."

I turn to face Cowboy and Emmanuel, my arm still wrapped protectively around Lisa. "We're leaving," I announce, my tone leaving no room for argument.

Cowboy raises an eyebrow. "Just like that?" he asks. “She’s been beating herself up for months, wondering what the hell you’d say when you found out about who she is, and you don’t even have a real reaction.”

Oh, I’m furious, but only because she’s the woman I love and I don’t want her in harm’s way. But knowing how prolific she is at what she does, I know that I’ll always worry about her. From now on, any job that she gets, she’ll not be going alone.

"You heard me," I snarl, taking a step toward him. "We're fucking leaving."

Emmanuel puts a hand on Cowboy's shoulder. "He’s not a real big fan of you, man, especially with how close you are to Lisa."

Ain’t that the fucking truth. He’s too damned close for my liking.

“How about we all go back to mine,” Jer says, stepping forward. “There are a lot of unanswered questions that I need answered. Firstly, Maverick, do you need to be seen by the doctor?”

“Yes,” Lisa says for me, her eyes spitting fire. “You were knocked unconscious,” she hisses. “Do you have a doctor on call?”

“I’ll call Grainne,” Cowboy says. “I’ll have her meet us at Jer’s.”

I nod, my head still pounding from the blow I took earlier. "Fine," I grunt. "But we're taking Lisa’s car, and you can get your own way there."

I guide Lisa toward the door, keeping her close. As we step outside, the cool night air hits us, and I feel her shiver. I pull her closer to me, trying to block the chill from getting to her.

We climb into Lisa’s car, and I wait until the others have pulled away before starting the engine. As soon as we're alone, Lisa turns to me, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and determination.

"I'm sorry," she says softly. "I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid. I didn't know how you'd react."

I grip the steering wheel tightly, my knuckles turning white. "How long?" I ask, my voice gruff with emotion. "How long have you been the Hanging Reaper?"

Lisa takes a deep breath, her hands fidgeting in her lap. "Since before we met," she admits quietly. "It started as a way to protect Devin. But then... it became something more."

“How long?” I repeat, needing to know how long this has been happening for.

“The first one was by mistake. It just happened. I didn’t intend it to. I was so scared, but I’m not sorry I did it. Devin wasso scared, and I’d do it all over again if it meant keeping him safe.”

Part of me wants to be angry, to demand answers to all the questions swirling in my head. But the larger part of me just wants to keep her safe, to shield her from the danger that comes with her other identity.

“Babe, that’s not an answer,” I tell her. “How old were you?”

“Sixteen,” she answers, turning to look out the window.

“The fuck?” I growl. “Tell me you’re joking?”

She shakes her head. “I didn’t mean to do it,” she whispers. “He hurt Devin, Mav. He hurt him so badly. Devin was terrified he’d hurt him again. I couldn’t let him do that. I just couldn’t.”

I feel the anger and pain radiating off her, and it hits me like a punch to the gut. Sixteen. She was just a fucking kid. I reach over and take her hand, squeezing it gently. "Lisa, look at me," I say softly. She turns, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "You did what you had to do to protect your brother. I get that. But Christ, babe, you were just a kid yourself."

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