Page 45 of Web of Lies
“Before, when you said this isn't a job anymore.”
He's quiet for a minute and doesn't answer until I have a shirt on and he's holding out a pair of men's sweatpants for me to step into. “You. This. It's different. It has been from the start. I don't know what's going to happen, but it's not the job we were hired to do anymore.”
Chapter Sixteen
Wyatt
My right eye is twitching. I can't make it stop. It started when I was walking down the hallway to the kitchen and now I'm in here stirring tomato soup while my eye tries to jump off my face.
Why... what was the reason? How did they get there? Have I somehow missed some kind of social cue that led to Shaun pushing himself on her in the shower? Is it still considered pushing if it was welcome? Does her obvious approval make this situation better or worse?
He knows this whole thing is already volatile. I can't wrap my head around why he'd add another layer of trouble to the ones we already have piled up. This, more than the crying and the theatrics and the dramatics, is why I don't do jobs with women. Especially jobs with other men who I don't have a long-running and honest working relationship with. Shaun seems fine enough, but walking into that bathroom to find him groping Larken invoked more than a few emotions.
He accused me of being jealous. I am not jealous. What I am is irritated. Frustrated. Flabbergasted that he would put an already fragile woman in that position. What bothers me the most, though, is why she would allow it? Why would she welcome it? It seems to me, considering her reluctance to go back to her husband, that she wouldn't want that sort of attention. I wouldn't think that a woman who has so obviously been abused would want anyone to touch her, much less one of the men who dragged her from her bed and threw her into the trunk of their car.
Jealous.
I am not jealous.
And now I've burnt a sandwich. I'll make sure it finds its way to Shaun's plate. Maybe I'll burn both sides.
Jealous.
A jealous person wouldn't be in the kitchen making lunch. If I was jealous, Shaun would be making lunch and I would be the one helping Larken get dressed.
I transfer the soup to bowls and the sandwiches to plates and set the table. Regardless of anything else, Shaun is right about a couple things, one of them being that this is no longer the job we were hired to do. This job has become a situation. It's a problem that needs to be solved before it festers. It's already festering. Shaun's hands on her body and her reaction to that is exactly what festering looks like.
Jealous.
I am not jealous.
I just need to get this finished, whatever that looks like, so I can be done with it.
Larken walks into the kitchen with Shaun close behind her. Gone is the grating expression he had in the bathroom. All I can see on his face right now is pinched worry. He keeps his hand on her elbow until she's seated and then he takes his place across from her. I've only been away from them for a few minutes. What could have possibly happened in that time?
“I like tomato soup,” Larken says, but she doesn't pick up her spoon, not even when Shaun starts in on his bowl.
She stares at the bowl blankly until I clear my throat. “It shouldn't be too hot.”
“Thank you.” She smiles over at me, still not reaching for her spoon.
“There are also sandwiches,” I continue.
“Burnt sandwiches,” Shaun scoffs.
“Only one is burnt.”
I dunk the corner of my grilled cheese into the soup and take a bite, making sure she's able to see the entire process. “I have crackers and croutons if you'd rather have that.”
“That's okay,” Larken says and picks up her spoon.
But she still doesn't eat.
“Want to switch bowls?” I ask. “Would that help?”
She shakes her head, but it slowly turns to a nod. “Do you mind?”
I switch the bowls, and the sandwiches even though I've already taken a bite. “Better?”
