Page 71 of Cruel Games

When your life is consumed by a single goal, it’s easy to lose perspective. But something about this moment, on this roof, with the sun’s first rays falling on my face, felt almost surreal. It felt important, like from here on out, my life wouldn’t be the same again.

And yet, I couldn’t grasp it, the special something that made this ripple in time different fromall the rest.

It, like everything else in my life, just slipped right through my fingers and was lost to the rest of eternity, just like every other passing second in time.

I padded over to the edge of the roof, taking a seat on the ledge, my back to the side of the fire escape rails as I bent one knee for an armrest and let the other foot dangle over the edge, wagging back and forth in the wind.

Coyote, ever the stoic, silent type, stood a few feet away, his eyes squinted against the bright rays of light hitting him in the face, arms crossed as he took a deep breath and sighed, his stance never wavering. I watched the subtle flare of his nostrils as he breathed in the fresh air, the way his lashes fluttered, never quite touching his cheeks, and how his hair danced just a bit with every gust of wind. Nothing about him surprised me, and yet everything was a new discovery.

This one, by far, was the most mysterious to me. His refusal to talk to me, even when I made small talk with him until I thought I’d turn blue in the face, had me out of sorts. He casually managed to not be around me one-on-one or made himself scarce when it was unavoidable. It was like he was scared of me or something. But no, there was no way?—

Was there?

“You’re staring.”

Heat rose in my throat as I blinked rapidly, shaking my head to dispel the thoughts racing around inside my empty ass head. “Dunno what you’re talking about,” I mumbled into the mug in my hands, most of the warmth of the drink gone, stolen away by the morning chill. “Shit.”

“Cold?” he asked softly, holding a hand in my direction.

I stared into my coffee and sighed. “Yeah.” I wasn’t in a very aggressive or fighting mood as he took the cup from me and disappeared into the asylum, leaving me very much alone out here, with just my thoughts to keep me company.

Thoughts I didn’t want to be thinking.

Thoughts I couldn’t afford to think.

Thoughts that had no business being in my damn head right now, regarding any one of these men.

I turned sideways, letting both legs dangle over the edge now from the knees down. I flirted with danger on a regular basis. Still, I was five stories up, and if I fell suddenly or someone pushed me, I’d definitely, at the very least, have a terrible time of it recovering. I could quite possibly die, too.

It wasn’t even the tallest building I’d ever sat on the ledge of, though. I could handle this.

My fingers clutched the back of the ledge as I leaned my weight backward and smiled at the warmth on my face, sunlight giving me an almost ethereal glow. Once I went back inside, I’d have to be an adult. I’d have to answer a few voicemails my old boss and coworkers had left me. Have to explain to them why I wasn’t coming back. I was even half tempted to tell them the truth—after all, how often did you get the opportunity to tell people you’d met before that you were quitting your part-time bartending gig to kill people for money?

It was a once-in-a-lifetime thing, and I didn’t plan to let it fly past me in a flash.

“You’re pretty brave, up here all alone,” a strange voice echoed behind me, setting every hair on my body on edge.

I tensed immediately, slowly turning my head to catch a glimpse of the asshole who’d snuck up on me, and caught the sight of two bodies silhouetted in the sunlight where I’d expected to find one.

“She’s not alone.”

Coyote.

“Hey, my bad,” the stranger said suddenly, throwing his hands in the air as he backed away slowly. “I don’t want to interrupt.”

“Good,” Coyote growled, watching the man with the long,pale hair disappear back into the stairwell. When we were alone again, his eyes turned to me, and I realized with a start that he’d gone to heat my coffee back up for me.

I thought this guy was a crazed murderer, not a walking green flag.

My whole heart sat up and took notice, despite how much I hated the fact that it was touching.

I wouldn’t go easy on him because of some warmed-up coffee.

I wasn’t. No fucking way in hell. That thought could fuckall the way off?—

The weight of a jacket around my shoulders brought my attention back to the present. Coyote had handed the mug back to me, and apparently, I’d taken it because it was there in the center of my hands, the warmth seeping through the ceramic and into the flesh of my palms. I was so overwhelmed I hadn’t even noticed taking it from him.

I noticed the coat he draped over my shoulders, though. It felt like a replay of the time he’d thrown one on me before he let me ride to the apartment.

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