Chapter 9

Janus

No way. Absolutely no fucking way.

I won’t have this conversation with Danielle again.

I swear this woman actively looks for danger above and beyond that’s expected for her job.

I wasn’t going to argue this with her—but fuck it.

“Tell me, Dani, do you have a death wish?” I inquire off-handedly.

She gives me a deadpan stare, knowing full well where I’m going with my line of questioning.

“You know I’m serious about this, Janus. I’m completely okay with putting my life on the line for the victims of this trafficking ring.” She pauses. “I was hoping you’d be a decent enough person to feel the same way.”

I pretend to flinch in response to her jibe.

“That stings, Robinson. Did you come up with that kind of emotional manipulation all on your own, or is it part of your training as a journalist?”

“If you’re not going to help, just say so and be done with it. I’m a big girl. I can handle rejection.”

I eye her carefully.

“You sure about that? Because your slinking off into the dead of night—after I refused your previous request—springs to mind.”

“Janus.”

“I get it, I get it,” I say, waving a hand dismissively.

I need to keep her at arm’s length, or I’m in danger of making a mistake again.

I turn to face her properly.

“I’m not saying I’m going to do it…” Dani’s eyes light up at that, as if I’ve just said that I’ll help her for certain, “…because I’m fairly certain I won’t, but I won’t leave until I’ve asked Leviathan to do some web snooping for me, first. If I don’t like something on what he’ll find, I’m leaving. And you should, too.”

Dani laughs.

“You really think that will work on me when it failed the first time? If you don’t like the look of it, all the more reason there is for me to stay.”

This fucking woman is impossible. I suddenly need another drink.

I clench my cheap jacket.

“Well, this has been wonderful, as usual, but I have somewhere I need to be. I’ll be in touch.”

Danielle makes a face. I can’t help but love the way she wrinkles her nose—it’s adorable.

“Do you really have to be so…cordial? After everything we’ve been through?”

“It’s precisely because of everything we’ve been through that I’m so cordial.” I incline my head. “Good day, Dani.”

As soon as I’m back in my room, I go straight to the mini fridge and pull out some whiskey.

I’d prefer some semi-decent scotch, but Jameson will have to do.

I finish it in one go.

The woody and nutty tones of the deep amber-colored booze burns my throat, but it doesn’t do what I want it to.

I change into something more presentable and make my way downstairs to the hotel’s bar.

Its lounge is lightly populated and the bar itself is nearly void of any guest.

I sit at the far corner of the bar and order myself a glass of scotch.

A woman sitting at the other side gives me a tentative smile. I humor her with a charming smile of my own.

She’s attractive enough, with auburn hair and eyes that match her flowery sundress. Even though Greece is currently unseasonably warm, I still personally find it far too mild for her to be wearing such an outfit.

But she’s no Danielle. If I’m resolute to never go near her again, this other woman is certainly no acceptable substitute.

When she moves to come over and speak to me, I shake my head, indicating that she should most definitely leave me alone. Somewhat put out, the woman leaves the bar, leaving me blessedly alone.

The barman dutifully slides my drink and then leaves me to my solitude, which I’m grateful for. Another place that values quiet service. I mentally note down to make use of this hotel again.

And with nothing but my alcohol for company, I commit to mulling over my entire situation with Danielle.

I know I shouldn’t get involved with her again—both for my sanity and to avoid the impending, very obvious danger that comes with trying to tackle a human trafficking ring with dirty police involved.

Yet…

There’s no denying the case is interesting, very interesting. And there are very real, very scared people that need to be saved. I can’t help but think of those who have already suffered or even died at the hands of the people responsible.

Anymore suffering would be blood on my hands if I choose to do nothing when I could’ve helped.

But it’s still far too dangerous. There’s an unreasonable, unforgivable chance of genuinely dying by trying to take this trafficking ring down. And I’m not ready to die yet.

We’ll all die someday, but you can be damn sure I’m delaying that day for as long as I fucking can.

I sigh heavily, letting my head droop over my scotch.

I know I’m acting like a selfish twat. Before meeting Danielle Robinson, Janus O’Connell would’ve attested to me being careful and diligent instead. But the Janus of today knows better.

I’ve regretted not agreeing to help Dani in South Sudan from the very moment I realized she had abandoned me. I just didn’t want to admit it.

So much for a smooth operator. If she could see me now.

I sit up straight at the mere thought. Appearances still very much matter to me, after all. I can’t be seen moping.

It shouldn’t matter what Danielle thinks of me.

We’re in different lines of work. Her understanding of my world, and likewise my understanding of hers, crosses only very tangentially. It simply shouldn’t matter.

And yet here I am, discovering that it does.

But she left you.

And that’s the stickler for me.

I looked out for her best interests, cared for her—allowed myself to be vulnerable with her, no less—but that wasn’t enough.

The only reason she contacted me now was because she needed my help, not because she wanted to see me as Janus O’Connell.

She needed The Jackal. She needs The Jackal, but it’s Janus who has needed her for three years. I laugh under my breath at my own stupidity.

This is why love can get you caught. Or worse—love can get you killed in my line of work.

It’s why I shouldn’t get involved with Danielle Robinson.

But there’s Griffin and Kalista, laughing and embracing tantalizingly on the very edge of my mind.

Why should Griff be allowed to have made it work, when I can’t?

I don’t wish my brother any ill will, of course. He deserves to be happy, and I wish him and Kali all the best. But I’m jealous.

There. I’ve admitted it. I’ve been jealous from the very beginning.

Finishing my drink, I settle my bill and bid goodbye to the barman, who inclines his head politely.

I’ve got to think of something else. Anything.

The case. I’ll think about the case.

I did promise to contact Leviathan, after all. I’ve planned to do that all along. I’m not doing it to distract myself from Danielle at all.

If I had the audacity to punch myself in the face, I’d do it.

“Get a grip, Janus,” I mutter when I make it back up to my room. “Get a fucking grip.”

But I don’t see that happening any time soon.