“If you’re about to strangle me, just get it over with.”
“The thought had occurred to me.”
I’d tell you to go to hell, but it wouldn’t be a burn, considering that’s your hometown.
After a long moment when I’m silent, he says, “You’re too quiet for my comfort. What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“Your funeral.”
I’m surprised when he starts to laugh. He laughs and laughs, like he hasn’t enjoyed himself this much in a long time.
I look up at him over my shoulder. “You’re bipolar. Right? That’s the root cause of all your mystifying behavior. Bipolar disorder.”
“No.”
“Too bad. If you’d said yes, I would’ve been nicer to you.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because mental health problems aren’t a choice. You, on the other hand, are deliberately an asshole.”
His smile is so bright, it’s almost blinding. “You bring out the best in me, lass.”
“Oh, go jump off a bridge.” I turn back to the window.
We stand there like that for a while, looking out at the view of Boston far below. It’s late afternoon, and I have no idea how long I’ve been here. One day? Two? Or the ten thousand it feels like?
When I glance at Declan’s reflection in the glass, he’s gazing at his hands resting on my shoulders as if he doesn’t remember how they got there.
I wish I didn’t find him attractive. I hate him, but I can’t deny he’s hot. Between those blue eyes and that strong jaw and that damn Irish accent…
“Why such a heavy sigh?” he murmurs.
“You’re still alive and breathing.”
“Not so long ago, you were thanking me for saving your life.”
“I know. I wish I could go back in time and kick my own ass.”
He’s laughing again. Silently, trying to hold it in, but I can see his shoulders shaking in his reflection in the glass. For some reason, that makes me even more depressed.
“Please go away. I promise I won’t bother you anymore. No more texts. No more talking. Just leave me alone.”
I sound sad and pathetic. This man is draining the badass right out of me.
He knows it, too, because his voice grows soft. “I’ll go if you answer a question.”
“How would I like to kill you? Something slow and painful that involves flesh-eating bacteria.”
Ignoring that, he continues in his gentle tone. “Why did you get involved with the Russian mafia?”
I consider not answering him. Because fuck him, that’s why. But ultimately, I decide to tell him the truth. I’m suddenly too tired to fight. “I didn’t know I was.”
In the short pause that follows, Declan’s hands tighten on my shoulders. He wants more.
If it will get rid of him, he can have it.
“When I met Stavros, he was just a cute guy who used to take my beginner’s class a few times a week. He said he worked in tech. Which was true, he does own a software company. What Ididn’tknow was that software was developed for illegal online gaming.