Page 5 of Dravin

I know it’s messed up to disguise myself and use one fake ID to bet against myself when my whole life is already a lie, but I needed a large amount of cash, and I needed it fast.

As soon as we clear the cement steps leading down into the underground maze beneath the seedy casino, I try to peel Dravin’s fingers from my wrist. He ignores me as if I’m nothing more bothersome than a mosquito.

He still hasn’t released me as we clear one of the casino’s exits and emerge in the overflowing back parking lot.

“Do you want to tell me why you have a fucking death wish when you promised me that you wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize everything I was working on, namely a plan to keep you safe, happy, andalive?”

“WhyIhave a death wish?” I scoff, trying to dig in, but I’m wearing boxing shoes and the leather skids over the dirty asphalt without finding any traction. I’m muscular, I’m strong, my body is like a machine, but I’m stilltinyin comparison to this man. I’m trained. He’slethal. I’m a fox. He’s abear. At heart, I’m just a regular person desperate enough to do just about anything. At heart… I’m pretty sure he has no heart. “You’re the hitman.”

“I’m not a hitman.”

“No, you just find people and deliver them unto their fate.”

“Yes, exactly.”

“So you can keep your precious hands clean.”

Unlike most of theI’m not a hitmanhitmen types, Dravin has zero chill. He’s not into masks or hiding his emotionsor keeping his pulse at a bland rate of blah, blah, whatever. He’s crazed.

“Stop it. Juststop.” His no chill is devolving into the state where he loses his temper completely. If he could shake me, he happily would. “You’ve blown your cover and that means you’redonehere. I wish I could saywe’redone, but sadly, no. I made a promise, and I intend to carry it out, however difficult you might make it.” He jabs his finger into the middle of his chest. I’ll admit the tight black Henley he’s sporting, outlines his muscles nicely. Black is supposed to be slimming, but it only highlights Dravin’s massive shoulders. “I’ve spent a lot of time, effort, and money giving you this life.” I wish I could tear my eyes away from his cut abs, but now that I’ve noticed them silhouetted by his shirt, it’s a difficult thing to do. Now is a bad time for my mouth to go dry, especially because it’shim. “Since you’ve seen fit to shit all over it, we’re doing this my way. You’re coming with me.”

His words work magic for drying up any physical attraction I might have had for him. A mix of hot headed rage that I inherited from my mother, the stubborn streak she tells me I got from my father, and a whole lot of dread swamp me. “Where?”

“Wherever it is that I can keep you from doing stupid things like this,” he snarls. “You’re in need of a babysitter. Great. You’ve got one now.”

“More like a baby smotherer,” I retort.

A muscle in his jaw ticks. He glowers at me for a few seconds, his hat pulled low over his face to cast shadows over his sharp features doing wonders to make him look even scarier. With a full beard, long blond hair knotted at the baseof the hat, and bright blue eyes, he’s disguised surprisingly well. I saw the real him thirteen months ago. He didn’t have time to hide then. Not like today. Today, he took care. Regular scary Dravin became Anonymous Scary Motherfucker Persona One. Two? Ten? Thirty? How many does he have?

He resumes dragging me along. I know it could be worse. He could pick me up and haul me over his shoulder. He could tighten his fingers, so they bite into my skin. Even now, in his fury and haste, he’s not gentle, but he iscareful.

Careful not to squeeze too hard.

Careful that I don’t trip as he tugs me along.

Careful to stick to the shadows that the few still-working streetlights cast over the parking lot.

Most of Orlando is completely unaware that the casino over here holds illegal underground fights. It’s just past eleven, but given that it’s a Saturday night, the city is still very much alive.

“Consider yourself smothered, then,” Dravin claps back, so delayed that I have to trace back the conversation for it to make sense. “I won’t give you room to breathe. You’ve proven that you can’t be trusted, so you’ve forfeited your rights.”

“To oxygen?” I sass back, skittering over the pavement as he quickens his pace. I have no idea where he’s taking me, but probably to his getaway vehicle or his bad guy chopper reserved just for his villainous use.

“Toeverything.”

“Fuck you,” I snap as my patience crumples in on itself like wadded up paper. I realize that this only proves him right about my maturity level.

He turns back around, releasing a low chuckle that raises the hair on the back of my neck for all the wrong reasons. “Not a chance. My tastes don’t run to airheaded, immature twenty year olds.”

Scratch the cold chills. I go from shivers to stabby within two point eight seconds. “I’m twenty-six, you prick.” Hilarious. The fucker’s got a sense of humor. My fake ID says that I’m Sarah Manford. Age twenty. And I’m also, unfortunately, blonde at the moment.

“Pardon me. Twenty-six year olds.The rest stands, especially the airheaded bit. I came to stop you from getting squashed like a bug, but an insect would use more common sense.”

I wrench my wrist away from him, the rub being that I’m only successful at doing it because heletsme. “How did you even know where to find me or what I was going to do?”

I refuse to call Dravin’s face handsome. His overbearing attitude completely ruins his distinguished looks and good bone structure. He hides the scars along his forehead and temple well. Even that first time I saw him, he was so skilled with the makeup he wore that I could barely tell there was anything wrong with his face. As my world was ending, I distinctly remember leaning into him as my legs collapsed from under me and thinking two things—firstly, that I never should have answered the door or let him into my apartment, and secondly, that he’d carefully penciled in the gaps in his righteyebrow. It’s odd, how receiving the worst news can stop your heart, but hyperfocus the rest of your body.

Thirteen months ago, my first impression of this man was that he was a beautiful and lethal as a Greek god and I’m kind of into Greek myths and history, More than kind of. I’m obsessed. But then he tore my heart out of my chest, ripped my life apart, and left me alone to suffer.