Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 122216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
“You okay?” I jerk around to see Laura standing there.
“Did you walk in this weather?” I point outside. For once she is actually dressed for the weather. There is snow still on her boots.
“Wanted to check on you.” She walks past me, looking out the window toward Brendan’s house.
“Why do you think Brendan is bad?” I make my way back to the fireplace where it’s warm. I sit down, wringing my hands together, worrying about where he went. He’ll be back, I try to reassure myself. He said he loved me. I felt it. That wasn't a lie. At least it didn’t feel like it. It’s not as though another person has ever said those words to me before.
“You just have to trust me.” She keeps an eye out the window but comes closer.
“I don’t even know where you live, Laura, or what you actually do for a living,” I remind her. I have this need to defend Brendan.
“I’m your friend,” Laura says with a little more heat to her words. I swallow, feeling guilty. I don’t want to be that girl who picks a man over her friend, but Laura’s not giving me anything here.
“I’m a spy. You know that.” She shrugs. I roll my eyes.
“So you’re a spy and what? Brendan is a hitman? Sure. Whatever. The joke isn't funny right now.”
Laura sits down in front of the fire facing me. “I’ve never lied to you.”
“So, you’re a spy.” I half laugh, throwing my hands up.
She shrugs. I reach over to the table next to me, playing with the glass nutcracker I got last year on sale. My hand wraps around it and I pretend to move it over but at the last second, I lob it at her. She catches it mid-air without blinking and sets it down next to her. Her expression doesn't change.
“Well then.” I sigh. “You really are a spy.” I could go for some eggnog now because I don’t know what to do with this. “Wait. Brendan is a hitman?” I half scream. Holy crap, I’ve slept with a hired killer. That thought is both scary and exciting at the same time. I notice that it doesn’t change the way I feel about him.
“I didn't say that.” She wrinkles her nose. “You did.”
I feel a little disappointed by her denial, but I’ll never admit to that. “So he doesn't kill people?”
“Maybe he’s killed someone. I don’t know, but it’s not what he’s known for.”
“And he’s not a spy? I feel like spies might kill people.” I keep on thinking. “Wait. You kill people?”
“Pretty sure I’ve offered to kill a few people for you before,” she scoffs. “Why are you getting all bent out of shape about it now?”
“I thought we were joking!”
“I don’t joke.”
“Are you spying on Brendan? Is that why you’re here?” I know my words might hurt her if they’re not valid, but I need to ask anyway. She pulled no punches when it came to her disapproval of him, and I’m not going to go easy on her when it comes to this. I feel the need to stand up for him now like I should have at the bakery.
She remains quiet for a few moments.
“Are you only friends with me because it gets you closer to Brendan’s house?” I actually feel more betrayed by her than Brendan if what I’m saying is the truth. Was she really even my friend? God, that would hurt. Brendan never tried to get close to me to use me. He just wants to be with me. (Yes, I’m letting the whole breaking-my-lights thing go for now.)
“It’s not what you think.” Laura stands.
“If you’re trying to hurt Brendan, then you’re trying to hurt me,” I tell her as I stand, too. “I love him.”
“I love you too, angel,” Brendan says as he comes in the front door. I rush over to him, then see he has Charlie in his arms. He must have gone to get him. Laura watches the two of us as I kiss Brendan and wrap my arms around him.
“Laura’s not trying to hurt me,” Brendan says as he pulls me close. I let out a breath. Thank God.
“She’s trying to get me killed.”
17
BRENDAN
The hitman follows me into Ariadne’s house. He doesn’t have a gun in his hand. He doesn’t need one. I know the Brotherhood sent him. The guy is deadly just standing there, his gaze taking in the room.
“Laura.” He tips his head at her.
“Been a while, Heath. What brings you out this way?” Laura perches on the arm of Ariadne’s sofa, her posture nonchalant despite the threat.
Charlie jumps from my arms and scurries into the Christmas house with Mrs. Claws.
“Who are you?” Ariadne steps forward, but I take her hand and scoot her away from Heath.
“That’s far enough,” he calls, his voice low and not unfriendly. But I suppose he can kill with an amiable smile on his face. It’s his calling.