Page 31 of Assassin's Prey
I let her see exactly what I wanted when her gaze met mine. “I’d rather do that once you’re in your safe place, little bird.”
She ducked her head, but not before I caught the shy, pleased smile on her face, the need in those hazel eyes. “Oh.”
“Yeah,” I said as I scooped her into my arms. “Oh.”
I settled on the couch, Abby turned sideways on my lap so her legs rested on the cushions, her back against the arm. I wrapped a hand around her hip and pulled her tight against my chest. She shifted her ass, getting comfortable and—added bonus—waking up my cock. Her palm rested on my heart as if it belonged there, speeding up my pulse…because it did belong there, and always would.
“You want to leave me.” I whispered the words into her hair, my heart suddenly galloping for a whole different reason.
Her fingers tightened, twisting into my shirt. “I never wanted to, Levi. I said I have to.”
And I’d immediately jumped into dominant caveman mode:Me, boss. You, stay.This time I wanted—I needed—a different answer than I’d received before. “Why?”
“Because I’m starving,” she said simply. And no, she didn’t mean sex; I understood that, Neanderthal animal or not.
I let out a deep, heavy breath, laid my forehead against her hair. “I don’t know how to be what you want me to be and also who I am, Abby. I’m not normal; I never will be.”
“What’s normal?”
I closed my eyes. “What you had—a house, a car, school. Normal.”
“Can’t we findournormal?” she asked. “Together?”
Thenoalmost left my lips. There was no difference betweennormalandour normal, was there? It was just normal and not. And life had put me firmly on thenotside of that line, whether I wanted to be there or where she was.
But as we sat there, the tension in her body communicated itself to mine. The rigid muscles, the held breath, the tight grip on my shirt. And I knew, in that moment, that whatever I said next would determine if we came out of this conversation with any hope for a future. I could hold Abby’s body hostage, but I couldn’t force her to give me her heart. That, only she could give.
So what was it going to be?
I’m starving.
I nuzzled her hair, letting her sweet scent push my fears away for now. If only I could stay here forever.
“Our normal?” I asked, voice husky from the knot in my throat.
The pulse throbbing in her neck skipped a beat. “Our normal.”
I didn’t know if such a thing even existed. All I knew was that I couldn’t give up without at least a good fucking try. Either that or cut out my heart, because I wouldn’t need the damn thing if she walked away.
“Okay.” I brushed my lips along the shell of her ear, down to that stumbling, striking pulse. “Okay, little bird.”
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Chapter Fourteen
When Remi ducked his head cautiously back into the safe house, we got up and got to work. A basic search of county records told us that anything older than ten years wasn’t archived online. We would need to go down to the courthouse to see my parents’ wills. The idea of holding the papers in my hand, of seeing my parents’ final wishes in the flesh, sent nausea roiling through me, but I got dressed anyway, letting Abby’s hand in mine steady me as we headed downtown.
Leaving the SUV without a weapon left me feeling naked, but Remi would be observing via security cameras, at least outside. I wasn’t naive enough to believe no one could get a weapon into the courthouse—or steal one from law enforcement inside—but I’d have to trust other skills today.
With Abby walking beside me, I wasn’t happy accepting that.
Downtown was bustling at midmorning. Court was in session, lawyers and police officers everywhere, everyday citizens visiting the licensing and business departments. In the basement it was much quieter; not many people came to scrounge through dusty paper memories, apparently. The lady behind the counter eyed me up and down, a mix of dismay and something I thought might be reluctant appreciation in her gaze as it settled on the vee of my T-shirt and the hint of ink it revealed. Her lips tightened into a thin, prim line, her beehive hair swaying as she turned to Abby.
“May I help you, dear?”
With archives or with getting away from your scary boyfriend?I fought to hold back a smile as the thought echoed in my head.
The amusement in Abby’s eyes made them sparkle—she’d caught the woman’s reaction too. “Yes.” She retrieved a paper from her pocket with my parents’ names written on it. “We were hoping to see the records regarding the last will and testaments of these individuals.”
