Page 52 of The Hermit

“Why are you a hermit?”

I follow after her as she continues to walk through the garden. “Because I don’t like people.”

She tilts her head as she picks some peppers. “Why don’t you like people?”

“That’s two questions,” I tease her.

Grace doesn’t smile but instead just stares at me.

“Evinka and I grew up in an orphanage where we had to fight for every basic need. I learned at a young age people will destroy anything in their path to get what they want.” I suck in a deep breath, then admit, “Evinka is the only good person I’ve ever come across, so I decided to distance myself from the world so I don’t go on a killing spree.”

“She can’t be the only good person you know,” Grace murmurs, sadness creeping into her eyes.

“Not anymore,” I reply. With my eyes locked with hers, I admit, “There’s you as well.”

Chapter 14

GRACE

While I’m chopping the herbs, my eyes keep darting to where Dominik is rinsing the tomatoes, carrots, cabbage, and peppers.

Every time I learn something new about him, it makes my curiosity grow. There are so many layers to him.

He’s brutal and inspires fear in men like my father, but here in his house, he’s a quiet soul who gives off a peaceful vibe.

My hands slow their movements, and I forget about chopping as my eyes take in every inch of Dominik’s muscled body. With the T-shirt he’s wearing, the tattoos on his arms are visible.

My gaze lifts until it stops on the X and broken heart tattooed beneath his left eye.

My voice is soft as I ask, “What does the X and broken heart mean?”

He glances at me, and it feels intense having his eyes on me.

“Keep people out, and you won’t have your heart broken.”

I take in his handsome face, then ask, “Have you ever had your heart broken?”

He grabs a knife, and as he starts to slice the tomatoes, my eyes lock on his hands and the veins snaking beneath his skin and tattoos.

“Only once,” he murmurs, his tone low and deep.

There’s a weird tightening sensation in my stomach that has my heartbeat speeding up.

“The day my mother left me at a gas station. She kissed me goodbye and told me I would be better off without her, then got into the car of a man I didn’t know and left.” He inhales a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “I never saw her again.”

Unaware of what I’m doing, I move closer to him as I ask, “How old were you?”

Dominik finishes chopping the tomatoes and wipes his hands on a paper towel before looking at me. “I was seven. The police came, and I was placed in an orphanage where I found Evinka. She was four.” The corner of his mouth lifts. “We adopted each other.”

With the food forgotten, I ask, “How did you become an assassin and arms dealer?”

“When I turned eighteen, I got kicked out of the orphanage, and I needed money. I checked ads and found one searching for a cleaner. Turns out it had nothing to do with actual cleaning.” He lets out a chuckle. “It paid well, and I was able to take care of Evinka.”

“And arms?” I remind him.

He shrugs, his eyes drifting over my face with a gentle expression. “I stumbled across an arms deal while assassinating someone and saw the amount of money that was being paid for a crate of guns.”

Dominik slowly turns to face me, then resting his hip against the counter, he tilts his head as if he’s patiently waiting for me to ask another question.

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