Come Back

“I mean, everything that happened today, James. I killed a man. You admitted to killing all the other assassins. My brother leaving cryptic messages. Who’s this message for? Me? I guessed that the first one was for me, but it was in your house and that one might’ve come from the guy I killed. So maybe it was for you?” She tips her head back so she can look me in the eyes. “Do you know my brother?”

“I’ve met him, of course. I’ve seen him every year on your birthday. So yeah, I know him. But this morning’s message was clearly not him. Why would he kidnap Sasha?”

“Why seems to be the only question we are able to ask right now. Who do you work for?”

“I told you, I work for me. Who do you work for?” I counter.

“I work for me too, I guess. And Sasha seems to work for whoever she’s with. So how do we know whose side we’re on?”

I swipe a few stray strands of hair off her forehead. “Trust me. I know what’s best. If you just trust me, Harper, it will be OK.” I lean down and kiss her on the nose. “You and me, Harper, we’re in this together. I’m the only one you should always trust. No matter what’s happening. I’m the one you look to. Because everything I’m doing is for you and me. Not just you, not just me. But both of us.”

“But I don’t even know you, James. Trust is something you earn. And I’m not sure you’ve earned that kind of trust. I think you’re hot. And sex with you is something I want to get used to. But back under the pier, that first day you came to me, you said you didn’t just want to f**k me, you wanted to know me. And so far you’ve done a pretty shitty job at getting to know me. All you really did was f**k me. In fact, you know nothing about me outside of those one-day birthday trips. And I know even less about you. So which one is it?” She sits up and turns around, tucking her feet underneath her so she can be eye level with me. “You can’t have it both ways. Either you want something convenient and fast filled with sex and that’s it. Or you want something meaningful and you earn the trust that comes with it.”

She stops talking and I’m still playing her words over in my mind. It comes across as a hesitation, so she makes to get up. But my brain kicks in before her feet find the floor and I pull her back onto my chest. “What do you want to know about me? I’ll tell you anything you want.”

She thinks for a moment and I imagine every horrible question she can possibly dream up.

What did it feel like to kill the first time?

Why did it take them so long to rescue you when you were captured?

Do you think your parents love you?

Why didn’t they fight harder to keep you safe from the Company?

Do you miss your brother?

What happened to your sister?

I draw in a breath, running all the ways in which I’ll have to lie to her when these questions are asked. But all of that’s unnecessary. Because her question finally comes out. And everything about it throws me off my game.

Chapter Nineteen - Harper

“What was the best present you ever received?” I ask him. “As a kid, like a little kid. Because the best present you ever received as an adult was me.” I bat my eyelashes at him to let him know I’m not mad. And I’m not mad. I’m not trying to push him away, I just need more… details. More personal things. More job things. More killing things. Getting to know someone is a process. And I don’t want to skip it. I don’t know if I love him, but I like him. A lot. And knowing he’s been with me since I was a kid, even in just that small, distant way once a year, it means something. It makes him more than just a guy. He’s a guy who knows things about me. About my family. And he still wants to stick it out.

Or… he’s using me to get to Nick. Which might be the case. And this is a good way to figure that out as well.

I have trust issues. I know this. But either way, getting closer—more personal—this will meet the objective no matter what. He’s watching me with a very skeptical look as I think all this through. Probably a mirror of the confusion I’m battling internally as well.

“Well…” He clears his throat. And then he pauses so long I decide to pick it up.

“I’ll go first. OK?” I tip my head up and smile. He’s considering his options, I can tell. He’s trying to decide to be honest or lie. If I want something from him, I need to give it first. This is how they work, right? The assassins thrive on favors. You owe me, I owe you, and we’re even.

So I lie back down in his lap and start.

“My best gift was not that stupid Hello Kitty notebook you gave me.” His chest expands as he takes a deep breath and I bite my lip to stop the smile. “It was a fish from my brother.” James threads his fingers through my hair and that feels so good, I want to close my eyes and moan. But not yet. “He always gave me presents when we were small. Little things. An extra piece of fruit at breakfast. Rocks and seashells. One time he made me coconut dolls.” I smile so big when I think about this and I almost let the sadness seep in and ruin the moment. But I push that down and remember how happy he made me. “That was a great present too. And he scraped all the coconut husk off the shell, except where the big bushy eyebrows went. And I had a mom and dad and a brother and a sister. The perfect family.” The sigh comes out before I can shut it down and James traces the curve of my lips. “That was such a good present. But the very best present was a lionfish.” I look up at James again and he’s shaking his head with a grin.