Page 59 of Secret Enemy Protector

It looks like a mixture of tag and hide and seek, and I don’t bother trying to understand their sports. I also don’t interfere because I feel I’m not yet on that level with Jordan.

I let Skylar have her fun until she eventually tires out and goes to bed.

This is where my own ordeal begins because somehow, I feel responsible for reporting how everything went.

He gave me an assignment, and I accomplished it. The worst thing for me to do now would be to withhold the information, just like I did the last time that’s made him as angry as he is.

Tonight, once he goes to bed, instead of heading directly out, he goes into his room, which is a good sign for me.

I don’t even spare a second and hurry in after him. When I close the door behind me, he turns and gives me a look that asks, “Did I ask you to come in?”

“I’m sorry,” I apologize hastily. But he brushes it off.

“Good evening, Rebecca. How was work?”

Honestly, I find it a complete turn on when he calls my name.

It’s just no one has ever said it better. You see, this is what makes me do the things I do for him, like co-plot a man’s death.

“It went well,” I answer. I’m talking about my conversation with Thomas, but when I realized that he wouldn’t pick that up so easily, I expatiate.

“I got Thomas to come alone with me to the oil rig. He didn’t suspect anything,” I say. Deep down, a part of my mind scolds me for how pathetic I’ve become.

I’ve gone from the employer to the henchman, carrying out his treacherous tasks without question simply because I want the favor of his smile.

I get it, and he really does smile.

But that’s it…just a smile.

I have no idea what I was expecting, but I’m a little disappointed. I want us to talk a little more.

I want him to detoxify himself. As much as this all feels crazy, I want it to stop. The cycle of hate is unnecessary, and it’s only going to harm future generations.

If anything, murder never gives a sense of satisfaction, no matter the cause it’s for.

The guilt would still be there, and it’s still going to haunt for the rest of the killer's life. I might not have murdered before, but this is basic human psychology.

Still, I can’t just tell him to stop. It's a slow developmental process that occurs little by little.

The hate he built and has maintained is strong, and it’s not something that can collapse in a day of talking to. I must get him to see reason with me, as impossible as that already sounds.

"Are you going to go home today?" I ask.

"You’ll just ask me to stay, so what's the point?" he responds with a question that vividly responds to my question.

I nod.

Of course, I would ask him to stay. Each time I do, it's because I see potential within him to look at me a little kinder.

I stare into his eyes and see hurt. It's the kind of hurt that killing another man won't solve. That’s why I don’t want him to continue with this. Worse still, I don’t want to bring the plague upon myself and Skylar.

Like it or not, if he goes on with this and eventually ends the life of Thomas, the blood would be shared by both of us.

Even in a criminal court, I might be arraigned and found guilty of being an accomplice to murder. How then would Skylar survive with her mother in prison?

These are questions I ask myself and deem that Thomas’s death is ultimately not worth it, especially if he is to die by our hand.

You shouldn’t be the one to enact that judgment, and even now I feel guilty for having played the role of luring him to come alone with me.

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