Page 15 of Don't Trust Him

As I shouldn’t, ever. People only care about themselves.

But I find myself asking, who cares about Grayson?

It can’t be me and I shouldn’t be thinking it could be me, considering telling him my tragic backstory and shit. I mean, really, what’s wrong with me that I can’t stop thinking about trusting him, about wanting to tell him my story?

I actually shake my head, trying to get him out of my head. But how do I get that ringing sensation from my brain, bated breath silences between us where I cling to everything he says like it is more precious than oxygen?

Who knew one person could be so desperately goddamn lonely?

“Fuck,” Grayson says, putting his hand on the back of his head. He looks to me, pursing his lips, opening them, then closing them.

He stands.

He sits.

He stands back up.

Grayson paces and turns back to me.

“They won’t like this,” Grayson says slowly.

“They trust us to get things done. If they wanted more say in how, they would have to be on the ground like we are.” I gulp. In all honesty, I’m shocked by my words. “I don’t trust you,” I quickly seethe at him. “How could either of us? But this is just smart use of resources and you and I both know we can work something out. Because they are never going to stop fighting but we’re all going to have this formula one day or another. So let’s get it in our territories.”

Now, I stand, extending my palms to the sky.

“Or we both go our separate ways tonight, and tomorrow we continue fighting each other to the bitter end.”

Not exactly a great fucking plan, and you know why? Because it doesn’t get results. And that’s what I do. In this repeatable, boring, reliable way.

Why don’t I smartly use the resource in front of me?

Why not?

There are a thousand reasons not to, many of them written on the tattooed side of him that has a carved and scarred skull. He’s the Grayson Teague that kills those who betray Bonita Muerte Cartel.

He’s not like some dumb shit at a bar who might be working for the other side.

He is someone working for the other side. And he’s not dumb. He’s ruthless, he’s smart, and he’s capable of anything.

Everything I’ve ever been cautious about was to prevent myself from accidentally getting close to someone who works for someone like him.

And now I’m choosing to get close to him?

Getting in bed with the enemy sends a shiver down my spine, but I don’t think it is made as much of fear as it should be.

This shiver is something else...

I’m not a normal girl. I’m like a puzzle piece. There’s one fucking place where I fit, and I have this feeling that the place I fit is with Grayson.

It’s a crazy goddamn thought.

All I want to do is kiss him. Why the fuck is that vision repeating in my mind?

I shouldn’t kiss him. I should kill him.

Nine

Grayson

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