Page 34 of Like a Hurricane

“You can’t just keep me in a cage, Everett.”

I roll my eyes, “This again, princess?”

“Stop calling me princess, it’s demeaning.”

“No can do, princess,” I chuckle at her dramatic sigh. “Coffee?”

“Sure.”

-

We are somewhat civil for the next hour; I supposed the wall of blankets Arryn built between us on the couch helped. She did offer me a cookie though, so, you know,progress.

“Are there warmer clothes in that bag?” She asks, placing the remote down.

“Are you cold?”

“A little.” She was in my sweats and one of my t-shirts, the fire was burning hot and healthy in the burner, but the snow was still coming down thick and heavy outside the window.

“There’s a couple of my sweatshirts in there,” I tell her, “Help yourself.”

She gives me a barely there smile and stands before going over to the bag, rummaging through the clothes in there and then locks herself in the bathroom.

I switch the TV off, stretching out on the couch. It was getting late, the light outside dimming as the sun begins to set on this peak and the tiny little town at the bottom. I use the time Arryn’s in the bathroom to run the checks again on my laptop, finding nothing new since this morning. I do a quick scan of the open job list, Arryn’s hit still open on a second tab. If I wasn’t here, I’d be on a number of these jobs, cashing in on those hefty checks promised. But since the coma a few months back and the girl I took care of, I hadn’t hit anyone in a long time.

It was an itch under the skin somedays and a burning craving the next.

When you’re raised to be good at one thing and it’s the only thing you know, it becomes the air you breathe. Going without was like going through a withdrawal. The rush. The adrenaline. It’s like a shot straight into the veins. You become addicted to the high of it, the rush of power and control.

Completing jobs gave me a purpose. It was what I was born for.

I made a lot of questionable choices. Did a lot of questionable things and toed the line of bad and evil like it was a skipping rope, and I was teasing the devil.

But I suppose, if I was to be tied up doing something else, this right here was the perfect distraction.

There’s a sudden loud thump from the bathroom and I get up quickly, knocking the chair back, “Arryn!?” I slam a fist on the door, reaching around the counter for the gun I have stashed to the underside.

“I’m good!” She calls back breathlessly.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing!”

My suspicion rises at the haste in which she answers, “I’m coming in.”

“Don’t you dare!”

“Either unlock the door or I’ll break it down.”

“Everett, do not come in here!” She yells. The shower was still running, and I could hear this knocking sound accompanied by her grunts. What the fuck was she doing in there?

“I’ll count to three, princess,” I warn, “if you haven’t answered the door by three, I’m knocking this damn door down.”

“Everett!” She yells.

“One.”

“Do not!”

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