Page 23 of Finders Keep Her
“Let me.” I take it from her.
“I was going to braid my hair.”
“I know.” I don’t want to tame her red wavy locks, but if it’s bothering her, then I want to fix it. I grab her hair and start to braid it for her. Ellie blinks a few times, caught off guard that I can braid.
“Why do you know how to braid hair?” she asks when I’m done.
“It’s no different than tying rope.” A giggle slips free from her. The sound is sweet.
“Didn’t picture you as a Boy Scout.”
“I wasn’t. My father taught me.”
“So you could tie people up and torture them.” That’s not the only reason I learned, but it’s what I use the skill most for.
“If I need to.” I shrug, making Ellie’s dark green eyes widen.
“I was joking!”
“No, you weren’t. You know who I am and what I do.” In fact, I think on some level, what she hasn’t come to terms with is part of the reason she’s drawn to me.
Ellie isn’t naïve to the world. I know she’s seen some shit even if it’s from behind a computer screen. There is bad stuff out there you can’t unsee, and some stuff you have no choice but to see if you want to fix it. I’m sure those things haunt her. They keep her on edge because she knows how fucked-up people can be and the things they will do.
Things that I do.
“Knowing and seeing are really two different things.”
“It doesn’t bother you what I do.”
“How do you know that?” She turns slightly in her chair to face me.
“You’re drawn to me.”
“And you hurt people.”
“Yes.”
“Kill people.”
“Yes.” Her brows pull together. She’s surprised that I’m being honest with her. I have no plans to lie to Ellie, only to protect her, but I can’t protect her from me. It’s better she knows, and she already does. Ellie can pretend otherwise if she prefers.
“Do you”—there is a small catch in her breath. So small I bet she doesn’t realize it herself—“enjoy it?”
I pause, not sure how to answer that one.
“You don’t want to admit it?”
“It’s not that. I don’t wish to go out and torture a person. But I can enjoy it when they deserve it.”
“Because you say they deserve it?” There is no challenge to her tone, and again I know what she’s getting at even if she doesn’t understand why she’s asking the question.
“Who is to decide these things?” I ask my own question. Ellie wants acceptance. And I’ll give her that.
“The law.”
“Whose laws?” I push. Ellie’s nose scrunches.
“The laws that are made and upheld by police.” She waves her hand in the air as if to say they’re all around us.
