Fisher

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That hadn’t taken nearly as long as I had expected, but I had lingered a bit, watching my handiwork.

As I had worked, my mind had been empty, my body taking over. At times like these, I felt almost like I was outside of myself.

Whatever I might have thought, wanted, hoped, when I was foolish enough to do such a thing, faded away. All that was left was the task at hand and the most efficient way to complete it. And I was many things, efficient being chief among them.

Still, this time I had done something I didn’t usually do.

I had lingered.

The reason was simple.

I’d spent years, what felt like my entire life, preparing for this moment. It wasn’t smart, and would probably come back to haunt me, but I wanted to stay, enjoy this, watch the beginning of their end.

And as I had watched, the flames consuming the building with the efficiency that I had designed them for, I had expected celebration. Excitement. Something to mark this momentous occasion.

But nothing came.

As I watched the building burn, the flames starting out orange, moving to a smoky, billowy black as the building was consumed, I didn’t feel happy. I didn’t feel satisfaction. I didn’t feel anything at all but trepidation.

And the reason for it angered me.

Because when I should’ve been celebrating, enthusiastic and excited because the first blow had finally been cast, I wasn’t.

Instead I was thinking about her, and more specifically, how she would react when she found out what I had done.

And worst of all, I cared.

I fucking hated that.

I had thought the orphanages, then the years on the street making my own way, then the prisons after, had beaten all of that out of me.

In two days, Jade Green had shown me how wrong I was.

Because much as I didn’t want to, as much as I should be happy, my feelings were muted, the strongest among them a vague sense of dissatisfaction because I knew how she would react, and I knew it wouldn’t be good.

I couldn’t exactly say why I had expected something different.

It wouldn’t be good. I had no illusions that she would meet me at the door with a bottle of champagne, look at me like a conquering hero, reward me for my good actions with another of those kisses.

I might want that—did want that—but it wasn’t in the cards. And I accepted that.

So why the disappointment then?

It was a question I pondered as I drove back to the house, hoping that the answer would reveal itself.

And to my astonishment, it did.

It was surprising but simple.

When Jade looked at me, she didn’t see all bad.

I knew that, was as certain of it as I was of anything.

She didn’t like me, and she certainly didn’t like what I did, but she didn’t think I was irredeemable, useful only for what I could do. She didn’t think I wasn’t unlovable.

She didn’t yet, I should say, but she would now. And I didn’t know how to deal with that.

I parked in front of the house, lingered for a moment, and then got out.

It was time to find out.

When I entered, the lights were out, and the entire house was dark.

Still, in the darkness I spotted Jade sitting on what appeared to be her favorite spot on the sofa.

I didn’t speak at first, and instead crossed the living room and turned on a small lamp.

It only partially illuminated the room, but provided enough light for me to see that Jade had her legs tucked under her, her skirt neatly smoothed. The light also gave her skin an ethereal glow, the halo of untamed hair on her head giving her the look of a goddess.

It was enough to respark that need to go to her, hold her, but the expression on her face froze me.

She was turned away from me, had twisted so that she looked out of the window in the living room. I could only see her in profile, the light and shadow giving her face interesting angles.

But even though I wasn’t looking at her fully, I could sense that something was wrong. Felt it to the very marrow of my bones.

I wasn’t a man given to hesitation, but I didn’t speak.

Somehow, I knew everything would change after this moment, and I was in no hurry for that to happen. It was silly, really, because what would a few seconds cost me? Nothing, but the storm that I could sense was brewing was going to be rough, and rather than confront it head-on, I wanted to stay like this, see Jade as she was now, and not as she would be when she finally confessed that she despised me.

So I waited, the seconds seeming to tick by with excruciating slowness, some part of me wondering how I had gotten myself into this predicament, the rest of me focused on her, waiting for her words with an anxiousness that I hadn’t felt in years.

She didn’t speak, but she had shifted, lowering her feet to the floor.

Then she stood, and my gaze was momentarily snagged by her skirt as it fell around her in a pool.

I could see her toes peeking out from under it, but that she was barefoot did nothing to take away from the intensity her stature conveyed.

She held herself as tall as she could, rigid, her body practically vibrating with her rage and disgust. It almost took me aback, was enough to make me take an extra breath.

She had found out something, and I had no idea what. But whatever it was, she didn’t like it, and if I knew Jade, she wouldn’t hesitate to tell me so.

Something she did in the next breath.

“How was your evening?” she asked.

I paused for a moment, struck by the distinction between her calm voice and totally normal question and the energy that was radiating off her. They were incongruent, her question a bland pleasantry that anyone would ask, her body telling me that she wanted to throttle me.

“Productive,” I responded.

It probably wasn’t the answer I should have given, but for some reason I felt compelled to tell her the truth. I wasn’t sure why, but there was a purity between us. One that was not marred by pretense or deceit.

No, I hadn’t told her exactly who I was, how I was related to the Murphys, what I had planned for them, but in everything else I had been honest if not completely transparent. And I wanted that to continue.

Jade scoffed. “Productive. That’s what you call it?” she asked.

She had been looking down, not out of fear, but out of anger. And when she lifted her eyes to me, the deep brown orbs practically flaming with the heat of her rage, I was again taken aback by the intensity of her expression, worry about what had caused it, fear that it would not go away.

“Yes,” I said. “That’s what I call it.”

Again probably not what I should have said, but it was the truth.

“I…”

Jade trailed off, took a long, deep breath that made her entire body rattle from the force of it. Then she looked at me, her eyes still flaming, but something else in them now. Something that felt a lot like the disgust I had been anticipating.

And it fucking stung.

Again, I wasn’t sure why this woman’s censure, her disappointment, mattered to me.

But it did, and I was fully on the receiving end of it now.

“Something’s got you all upset,” I said.

“Yeah. Something does,” she replied flatly.

She didn’t speak further as she began to walk toward me, her movements slow, languid, almost sensual save for the daggers she was currently glaring at me.

She came to a stop and then locked eyes with me. She was as close to me as we had ever been, save for that kiss, and if nothing else, that made me happy.

She stared at me, tilted her head, seeming to take me in, studying me as if I were a puzzle she wanted to solve, a riddle she couldn’t quite figure out.

Her scrutiny made me uncomfortable. I didn’t shrink away from it, but as she watched me, my nerves intensifying with each second that ticked by, I wondered why, and again quickly came up with the conclusion.

So seldom had people ever really looked at me.

No, I was a creature of shields, one of the shadows, and I was always comfortable there.

But this, what Jade was doing, was not something I was familiar with.

She seemed intent on getting past the facade, finding the person I really was.

Part of me welcomed that, wished that there was a person I could share myself with fully, but the rest of me was afraid.

It was something I didn’t want to admit, but something I couldn’t deny. I was afraid because Jade would get past my layers, had done a better job of it than anybody I had ever known after less than three days of knowing me. So that she would get past wasn’t a thing that could be denied.

What mattered was what she would find when she did, and I knew from hard experience it wouldn’t be anything nice.

“What did you do tonight that was so productive?” she asked.

It was a simple question, a direct one, but I sensed the warning in it.

“What do you think I did is a better question,” I said.

I looked at her eyes, and for a moment, Jade appeared irritated by my deflection, and that little flash of irritation, the slightly peevish look she got on her face was surprisingly comforting. At the very least, it was a part of her I recognized, not the distant, cold look that I had gotten before.

But that cold look was soon back in place.

“Do you watch the news?” she asked.

I frowned, tilted my head a moment, wondering at the direction of this question.

“No,” I responded. “Not really.”

“Me either. But I found myself with some free time this evening,” she said.

“Any reason that I should have watched the news?” I said, frowning as I wondered what exactly we were talking about.

“No. I wanted to watch something else, but the news is going crazy with a big new story,” she said.

“What was it?” I asked, keeping my voice calm, though I was apprehensive. I had changed clothes, so Jade wouldn’t smell the smoke on me. And I doubted the warehouse fire would make news, especially not if the Murphys had a say in it.

I hadn’t thought there was anything objectionable in that question, but Jade clearly disagreed. She looked at me, glared really, her expression twisting into a mask of anger so deep that I wanted to take a step to get away from it.

I didn’t, but instead I watched her, tried to stay as calm as I possibly could.

“I can’t fucking believe you,” she said through clenched teeth.

I didn’t respond, knowing that there was nothing I could say. Instead I waited, wondering how this would unfold.

She blinked, and for a moment that mask of anger broke. It was back soon enough, but in that split second when her guard had been down, I saw her anger, her disappointment again, but even more I saw something like hurt.

That shouldn’t have made me happy. Hurting Jade had never been my intention, but hurting people was what I did, one of the only things I knew how to do. There was no way she would be able to avoid it, but in some fucked-up way, that I had hurt her now made me happy. At the very least that meant that she cared, and I could hold onto that.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I shouldn’t be arguing with you, I should be kicking my own ass for being so stupid,” she said.

She turned away quickly, her skirt softly swishing as she began to shift from side to side, twisting her head in disbelief.

“I have no idea who you are, what you intend, and I come here with you, offered to help you. I’m so stupid,” she said.

“Why are you saying all this, Jade?” I asked.

“Why am I saying all this? Because I’m an idiot who stupidly thought that I could make a difference, that I could keep you from doing something awful.”

“I thought I made it clear that that wasn’t going to be possible,” I said.

“Oh you made it clear all right. Crystal. But I was too stubborn and too stupid to take you at your word, and now other people are going to pay for it.”

She turned toward me again, took a step closer, and then stuck her finger out.

She kept walking closer and then closer until she pushed her finger against my chest.

“I cannot fucking believe you. You took me to that hotel. I even talked to Eden. And she might be…” Jade trailed off, swallowed thickly, and then continued. “And she might be dead because of you. And me.”

I frowned, not sure what she meant.

“Oh don’t give me that confused look. Don’t even try it. I know what you did, and if I had any sense at all I would serve you up to Patrick on a fucking platter,” she said.

This conversation was close to going off the rails, so I looked past my confusion and wonder and tried to refocus.

“Jade, you may not believe me, but I have no idea what you’re talking about. Can you explain?” I said.

She scoffed again, scowled at me, and poked me in the chest one more time before she dropped her hand to her side. “Explain? What is there to explain? You went today to scope out the hotel and tonight you went and burned it down. And you killed God only knows how many people, you fucking monster!”

“What!” I said.

“What?” Jade said, mimicking me. “Are you supposed to be convincing me that you have no idea what I’m talking about?”

“I hope I am because I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said.

“Likely fucking story. How many people want to burn down M. Lounge and Hotel?” she said.

“It burned down before. Who knows how many enemies Michael Murphy has?” I said. It was true, and I spoke with the vehemence and certainty that I felt, though it was more hollow than usual, some of my force taken by Jade’s anger.

And yet again I wasn’t helping my position. But every time I spoke of them, I couldn’t keep the vitriol out of my voice, and like she always did, Jade heard it. But unlike those times before, she didn’t seem taken aback by it. In fact, just the opposite. My words, the voice in which I had spoken them, only seemed to confirm what she believed.

“Well, I don’t know how many enemies Michael Murphy has, but I know that you’re one, and I know that you were at his hotel today. Are you telling me it’s a coincidence that it just so happens to be burning right now?” she asked.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m telling you,” I said.

“Okay. So say I believe you. What were you doing tonight?” she said.

“You know I’m not going to answer that question,” I repeated.

“Yes. You. Are.” She punctuated each word with a poke to my chest, and when she finished speaking, she left her finger there, her eyes blazing with anger and indignation.

“No, I’m not,” I said, digging in my heels, trying to ignore the impulse to give her what she thought she wanted, feeling an unexpected shame at what I had done.

“Yeah. You are,” she repeated.

Then we went silent, both of us studying the other, the tension in the room so thick it was a tangible thing.

“What makes you think you have any leverage over me?” I asked.

To my surprise, that question seemed to deflate her.

“Leverage. You asked me about leverage. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s probably how a person like you thinks,” she said.

The way she spat the words, the scowl on her face, made me feel small, but I ignored that and focused on her.

“Yes. That’s how I think because that’s what matters. Leverage, power, you know, the thing I had over you that brought you here,” I said.

Almost instantly, I wished I could take the words back, but there was no way to do that. So I watched, disgusted with myself as Jade deflated even further.

“I guess you’re right, Fisher,” she said flatly, her voice lacking any and all inflection and sickening me at the sound of it.

“Look, Jade…”

I trailed off when she shook her head slowly. “Don’t say anything. Not to me. I don’t want to hear it,” she said.

“What if I don’t care if you don’t want to hear it?” I responded, letting my temper get the better of me.

“Well I don’t care if you don’t care that I don’t want to hear it. The only words I want to hear coming from your mouth are what you did tonight,” she said.

“I told you I won’t answer that,” I responded.

She scowled, but I shook my head this time and she didn’t speak.

“But I can assure you that I had nothing to do with M. Lounge and Hotel burning tonight,” I said.

“I’m just supposed to take your word for it?” she asked.

I didn’t respond immediately, instead trying to process how that question made me feel. It wasn’t anything nice. Because the way she spoke made it seem like her taking my word for anything was beyond the realm of possibility. I supposed that made sense. But still, hearing it from her hurt. It shouldn’t have, but it did. Still, I ignored that and went back to the conversation.

“Yes. You’re just supposed to take my word for it,” I said.

“And why the fuck would I do a stupid thing like that?” she asked.

“I know you don’t like it, but I’m going to answer your question with a question. Have I ever lied to you?” I asked.

“How would I know?” she shot back.

That stung too, because I prided myself on not being a liar, but then not answering questions could be considered lying.

“That’s not an answer. You’re not a stupid woman, Jade,” I said.

“I don’t necessarily agree with that assessment, not today,” she said.

“Be that as it may, I do. And you know that I have never told you an untruth,” I said.

“You keep me in the dark,” she responded.

“To avoid having to tell you a lie,” I said.

“And that’s supposed to be okay. I’m supposed to be happy about that?” she asked.

“No, you don’t have to be happy about it, but it’s something you can rely on. I know my word doesn’t mean anything to you. I know it probably shouldn’t. But please know and understand that I did not lie to you. I had nothing to do with what happened at the hotel.”

She was quiet for a moment, studying me, and I was grateful for the reprieve. This was a lot to process, but I wasn’t exactly sure why. And, though I had no reason for the feeling, I was somewhat stunned by the fact that she thought I would be capable of such a thing. Burning the hotel. That would’ve been amazing, would give me some measure of satisfaction, but it would have come at a higher risk. I might have done just that if I had gotten to the hotel before the grand reopening. But after…

I shook my head, rejecting the thought out of hand. There was no way I would risk the lives of the people in the hotel, staff and guests.

It seemed strange to think that I had morals about something like that, but I did. Morals I wouldn’t compromise.

No innocents.

They were few and far between anyway, and if I had a chance to spare someone suffering who didn’t deserve it, I would take it.

Michael Murphy didn’t fit into that category, but the people in the hotel did, so that target had been a no-go.

I knew my reasoning well, was completely confident in it. But one look at Jade told me that she certainly wouldn’t be. Still, I had to try. Felt compelled to try.

“I didn’t have anything to do with the hotel, Jade,” I repeated.

She looked at me, skeptical, and I felt a moment of desperation. I hated that feeling, but it was here, intense and acute.

I felt like I was on the verge of losing her.

I didn’t have her, wouldn’t have her, but whatever small peace we had found here, whatever tiny connection that might have been growing between us would be lost if I didn’t act and act soon.

I had gotten pushed into a corner, a feeling that I hated, one I tried to avoid with everything in my soul.

My instinct was to stick with that, to not give in to the urge to explain myself. I had never done that, and I didn’t want to start now.

But I also didn’t want Jade to hate me. Couldn’t allow Jade to hate me. So I made the only choice I could.

“You want to know where I was?” I asked.

She nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving mine. I could see she was looking at me, trying to find some hint that I was lying, but she wouldn’t, because I wasn’t.

“I did burn something down tonight,” I said.

“I knew—” I shook my head and she cut off sharply, but she still glared at me, her arms folded under her breasts, her fists clenched in anger.

“But not the hotel. I wouldn’t burn the hotel.”

“What? Is that against your morals or something?” she asked sarcastically.

“Yes,” I said simply.

To my surprise she didn’t argue, and in fact she just looked at me, her expression expectant as she waited for me to continue.

“I burned down one of the Murphy brothers’ warehouses,” I said.

She was still for a moment as she was clearly processing what I had said, and then she looked at me, the question clear on her face.

“Warehouses?” she said.

I nodded.

“I didn’t know they were in the warehouse business,” she said.

“They aren’t in the warehouse business,” I responded.

“Then why do they have warehouses?”

“Because they’re in the money laundering business, and cash takes up way more space than the movies would have you believe,” I said.

“Money laundering?” Jade said.

I nodded again, Jade’s expression shifted to one that was absentminded as she pondered what I’d said.

She dropped her arms to her sides, some of the defensiveness from earlier leaving her posture.

Instead, though I didn’t doubt she was still angry, I could see the wheels in her mind beginning to turn.

“So that federal indictment Patrick had. That was real,” she said.

“Every word of it,” I responded.

“I knew I should have kept looking,” she whispered, her mind clearly a million miles away.

“What do you mean?” I asked, my own curiosity stoked now.

“When Nya first got involved in all this, I started to dig into Patrick, see what I could find out. The information about the indictment was there, but it was all surface stuff, I wanted to get deeper,” she said.

I froze, my mind reeling at the thought of Jade being so stupid. Patrick hadn’t gotten where he was by being reckless or merciful, and I knew Jade had been closer to danger than she could have understood.

“Why didn’t you?” I asked, managing to keep myself calm though I wanted to scream at her for being so careless.

“Nya asked me not to,” she said.

I was surprised by her answer. I’d expected her to say something like Patrick had warned her off, or someone else had, but she didn’t.

“You mean you let it go because of your friend?” I asked, wondering at the possibility. Jade was stubborn, and it seemed unlike her to let anything go. Her friend must have meant a lot to her.

Jade nodded. “There’s not much I wouldn’t do for her,” she said.

“That’s pretty obvious,” I responded.

Jade didn’t say anything, but I thought I saw a flash of guilt in her expression. It was something curious, but I couldn’t explore it now.

Instead I waited, looking at Jade as she continued to think.

“So they launder money and store it in warehouses?” Jade asked.

“Yes. They have a pretty ingenious system as a matter of fact,” I said.

“You say that like it’s admirable,” Jade said.

I shrugged. “Admirable or not, I can recognize a good system when I see it, and they had one,” I said.

“It’s obviously not that good if a warehouse full of money is gone because you set it on fire,” she said.

“That’s a mistake to think that. They do have quite the system, very efficient, and it took far more effort than I could ever tell you to find even one of them,” I said.

I paused then, again not wanting to get too caught up in praising them. Besides, why wouldn’t they have the best system? They had grown up with countless advantages, had had each other, their father, their mother, all the resources they would need to build an admirable criminal empire.

I reminded myself of that, which helped sap some of that desire to praise them for something that they should have done.

“So you burned their money?” Jade said.

I nodded quickly, wanting to smile at that stroke of genius but knowing Jade wouldn’t necessarily appreciate that.

“Were there other people there?”

When she spoke this time, there was a tremor in her voice, and her words were only barely a whisper.

I knew exactly what she meant, knew that she was concerned for the people, which was surprising. Not really, though. Jade presented tough, but she had a kind heart, a soft one, so the thought of someone dying, even people who worked for scum like the Murphys, wasn’t something that would sit well with her.

“There were guards, a few of them, but none of them are dead,” I said.

Jade sighed audibly, the breath of relief undeniable.

“How are you sure?” she asked.

“I created a diversion, and it worked.”

“Where did you learn how to do that stuff?” she asked.

“Around,” I responded.

To my surprise, she didn’t press the issue.

“So you just burned down a warehouse full of money?” she said.

“Yes,” I responded.

“Why burn it? Why not take it?”

“I don’t want anything that belongs to any of them,” I said.

Jade lifted her brows and then studied me, which tipped me off to the fact that my voice had been far too bitter, my anger again making its way out despite my efforts to keep it in.

But it was true. I could take their cash, but I didn’t want anything from them. I just didn’t want them to have it.

“I knew this was personal,” Jade said, sounding triumphant.

“What makes you say that?” I asked.

“Because you burned down a warehouse full of money instead of taking it. That is some petty shit, Fisher,” Jade said.

Despite the circumstances I felt myself smiling.

“It’s far bigger than petty,” I said. “There was a lot of cash in that warehouse.”

“That makes it even more petty,” Jade said, looking incredulous and reminding me so much of how she had been when I had met her that first night.

It probably shouldn’t have, but that gave me comfort. Her anger seemed to have faded, and her disgust did too. It seemed that Jade drew the line at burning down a hotel, but burning down a warehouse full of cash where no one got hurt was something she could roll with.

I appreciated that, though I was certain it wouldn’t last.

“Why does that make burning the warehouse even more petty?” I asked, intrigued by what she would say, mostly because it would give me an opportunity to see more of how Jade’s mind worked.

“Because, people steal. Everybody’s money-hungry and willing to screw over whoever they need to get the cash. It’s, like, an accepted thing,” she said.

“Yes,” I responded.

She lifted her arm, but this time instead of poking her finger in my chest, she just pointed at me, moving her hand back and forth.

“But you. You can’t just do the normal shit. No, you can’t just take their cash and go spend it, or I don’t know, give it to poor people or something. Instead you burn it because you hate them,” she said.

By the time she was finished she looked incredibly pleased with herself, and I couldn’t help but give her a begrudging nod.

“There are other reasons,” I said.

“Like what?” she asked.

“Well, taking their money would be an irritant, but I have no doubt that they would recover quickly. But burning it, that sends a message,” I said.

“A message? Like a horse head in the bed or something?”

“I don’t understand what that means, but if I had stolen their money, they would think it was something simple, just a part of the cost of doing business. I’m not that,” I said.

“No you are not,” Jade replied.

“I’m not,” I responded, again confirming what she had said.

She looked at me for a moment, and then her expression went serious.

“I don’t know if I should tell you this, and I know that I shouldn’t care, but Fisher, this is going to get out of hand,” she said.

“And that’s exactly where I want it to be,” I responded.

She looked at me, shook her head, and continued. “It’s clear to me now that you think that, but do you really? Do you really want this?”

“Do you have any idea what this is?” I asked.

“You answered a question with a question again,” she said, shaking her head.

“Yes. What’s your answer?” I said.

“No specifics. But I know when two trains are about to collide, and I don’t want people I care about or myself to be on the tracks,” she said.

She had spoken the words quietly, solemnly, and I felt that same solemnity. Because I had again confirmed what the source of Jade’s worries were. This wasn’t about me, and it never had been, but she wanted to change my direction to protect her friend. Admirable I suspected, but not something that I would allow to dissuade me.

“What just happened?” she asked.

“What are you talking about?” I said shortly.

“Your face, something just changed. What were you thinking?” she asked.

“You want to know my plans, you want to know my thoughts. Is there anything else you want, Jade?” I said.

I spat the words, my anger not caused by her, but her serving as a pretty good distraction for it.

“An answer,” she said.

I glared at her, wondering myself at the change in her. Five minutes ago she had been about to rip my head off with her bare hands and now she was whispering, asking me for insights into myself. It was disturbing to say the least, and I found myself defenseless against it.

“You want to know what I was thinking?” I said.

“Yes,” she responded.

“I was thinking that I’m an idiot,” I said.

She didn’t speak so I continued.

“You just gave me that nice little speech about trying to avoid two trains colliding like I wouldn’t know exactly what you meant,” I said.

My voice was thick, twisted, and Jade dropped her brows and approached me, her face reflecting concern that was gut-wrenching.

“What does that mean?” she asked.

“Get away from me, Jade,” I snapped.

She didn’t move an inch. In fact she got closer, her hand touching my arm.

“What does that mean?” she repeated, her voice soft.

I had looked away, looked past her shoulder at anything but her, but at her softly whispered words, I swung my eyes back to her, saw the sincerity in her expression, and almost lost it.

“Look, you don’t give two shits about me, and you shouldn’t. Really, I understand. But drop the rest of this crap. You’re supposed to give me information and you haven’t done a very good job of that, so do what you’re supposed to or leave me the fuck alone,” I said.

I finished, looked at Jade, waiting for a response, but she didn’t have one. Instead she stayed calm, kept her fingers on my forearms, but I noticed now that her eyes were softer, brimming with compassion that I didn’t want and didn’t deserve.

To me, that compassion felt far too much like pity, and I hated pity.

“Fisher, what’s wrong?” Jade whispered.

I stared at her, not responding, not sure what my response should be.

I prided myself on being in control, always sought to be in control, but Jade was testing that, pushing me in ways that I didn’t like and didn’t understand.

“Fisher?” she said.

I stared at her, not knowing what to say, what to do, so I followed my instincts and did what I had wanted to for nearly all the hours I had been with her.

I leaned closer and caught her lips in a kiss.