Page 49 of Indecent Proposal

“Some fucking assassin you are,” I shot back, then leapt forward, grabbing her by the throat. “Can’t fucking kill your target or get the information you need.”

“Clearly, you can’t get the information either,” Ace pointed out.

I growled in pain as the knife sank into my arm—she’d yanked it out of her belt or her leg, I wasn’t sure which. I squeezed her throat,hard, causing her to gasp and claw at my arms instinctively. It was really hard to fight the body’s need for oxygen and how instantly desperate you got once it was taken away.

Keeping my grip on her throat, I yanked the knife out of my arm. Normally I wouldn’t recommend it, seeing as you could bleed to death, but I figured the injury wasn’t bad enough to warrant that.

And I wanted to stab her with her own damn knife.

Claire scrambled back out of the way. I could see her out of the corner of my eye, her face flushed and hair a mess, her eyes wide as she stared at Ace and me. She seemed okay, thank God. That was what mattered.

I used the knife in my free hand to stab downwards, towards Ace, but her legs kicked out, sweeping my own out from under me. I landed hard on my back with a grunt as Ace launched herself at me, trying to get on top of me and attack me again. I used the momentum of her body to roll her and get on top instead, punching her hard in the face. I couldn’t settle myself quickly enough, and she kneed me hard, missing my crotch but getting me low in the gut.

Knocked the fuckin’ wind out of me, but I picked her up by using the grip I still had on her and slammed her into the wooden floor hard as I could, putting all of my weight on her. The action knocked her head hard into the wood, making her dizzy, her eyes going unfocused.

“Nice fucking try,” I snarled at her.

Nobody got one over on me. Not permanently, anyway. I hit her again, then grabbed the knife where it had fallen. I didn’t waste any time. There was possibly value in keeping her alive to interrogate her on things, but I didn’t want to take the risk of an expert professional like her getting free and hurting Claire, or anyone else for that matter.

Without hesitation, I stabbed the knife down into her throat.

Ace’s eyes went wide as she gurgled, blood bubbling up out of her throat around the blade. Her body heaved, then twitched, then seized up, until after a few more seconds, she was still.

Her open, empty eyes stared up at me, her mouth slack, blood sliding down her throat. I got up, groaning a little at the bruises I could already feel forming. I looked over at Claire, who stared at the body—at me—with a look I couldn’t quite decipher.

“You okay?” I asked her.

I wasn’t sure if I should approach her or not. I wanted to make sure she was all right—but I didn’t want to spook her. I’d just killed someone in front of her, after all. That was enough to upset just about anyone.

Claire stared up at me. “I’m fine, but—you—”

She scrambled to her feet and gently grabbed my arm. I winced as the pain really set in. I’d been able to ignore it, but now that my adrenaline was wearing off and there was no imminent danger, I could really feel the sting and throb of the cut.

“Don’t die on me, not when I’m just starting to really like you,” Claire huffed.

I laughed just as she yanked back my sleeve, then grunted at the spike of pain it sent through me.

She inspected the damage, a worried look flashing in her eyes. “I’ll get you something to hopefully help stop the bleeding.”

She hurried to the bathroom cabinet and yanked out the heavy-duty first aid kit I kept in there. I hadn’t even realized she remembered that. She hadn’t seemed to be paying that much attention when I’d shown everything to her, and then she’d been determined to rebel against me, so I’d just assumed she hadn’t noted half the things I’d pointed out.

Turned out she’d been listening to me the entire time.

Claire pulled out some gauze while I ran my arm under the water in the kitchen sink, cleaning the area so she could see what she was doing and where the actual cut was. I held still as Claire cleaned the wound properly.

“Can you pass me the stitches kit?” I asked.

Sure, I could drive us back to a hospital and get proper care there, but it wouldn’t be the first time I’d done up my own stitches. If I took care of it right now and then wrapped the wound, I should be fine until I could get a doctor to look at my handiwork and prescribe me some antibiotics.

Claire watched, her eyes growing dark as I threaded the needle and began the process of stitching the knife wound up. Her lips parted and I saw her suck in a sharp breath as I worked with one hand, using my teeth to help keep the thread taut the way I needed it.

“That’s, well, impressive,” she said, her voice hushed.

I gave her a grim smile, and as I continued closing up the wound, I remembered the rush of fear I’d felt, like ice in my veins, at the idea that she was in trouble. I didn’t want to go through that ever again. I wanted her safe. She was the first person I wanted something more with, and everything about her made me feel as though I’d finally found my other half.

I finished the stitches and snipped them, setting everything aside. “All right, can you wrap it?”

Claire nodded, her face flushed as she reached for the supplies. Her hands shook a little but I didn’t comment on it. She finished securing the wound and put the gauze and tape aside. I tested the job she’d done, moving my arm. I would have to be careful, but I could make this work until I got to the hospital.

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