Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78237 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78237 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
I lean back on the chair inside her temporary residence and smile. “I don’t know. What does dragging it out of me entail?”
“You won’t like it, I promise.” She points her disposable chopsticks in my direction. “Promise,” she repeats with a teasing grin.
Knowing I won’t get out of this conversation, I figure out how to tell her as much of the truth as possible. “There were a couple of Kings inside, but they didn’t exactly tell me what they were looking for.”
“Was Cyrus with them?”
I nod.
“Did he say anything?”
I can’t figure out if she wants that or not, so I shrug it off. “He said a lot of shit, Maven, most of it not fit for a lady.” I run my hand over my face and sigh. “I shot at him.”
She gasps, chopsticks frozen between her box of fried rice and her mouth. “You shot him? Is he dead?”
I know in this moment that I can’t put this information on her. Not now. “I said I shot at him. He ran like a coward out the back door while I gave his boys a beat down,” I lie, hating myself for it.
“So he’s still alive?”
I nod. “Happy?” Another lie.
She shakes her head. “I don’t know, Wilder. I mean, I don’t exactly want him dead. What I know of his transgressions doesn’t warrant death. But alive means he’s still trouble for me, and that doesn’t feel like a victory.”
Her honesty is refreshing, and dammit if it doesn’t make me like her even more. “That makes sense.”
She blinks. “It does?”
I nod. “Yeah. It makes a lot of sense. You’re a good woman, Maven, and you don’t deserve any of this, but you’re handling it like a champ. Being good doesn’t mean you don’t want bad shit for bad people who deserve it.” Her hazel eyes grow wide and disbelieving. “And just so you know, next time, I won’t miss.”
Her lips slowly tug into a wide grin as she scrapes her eggroll through that disgusting duck sauce. “I’m sure you won’t.”
“Got that much faith in me?”
“Not faith, confidence. You have proven yourself a capable scrapper, and I assume the military made you an excellent shot.”
I shrug at her unintentional compliment. “Shooting is kind of a requirement.”
“Even for a government computer super spy?”
I laugh. “I think I’ll let you write my Army bio, Maven. You make me sound cool.”
She rolls her eyes and laughs. “Like you don’t know you’re cool, Wilder. I’ll bet everything came to you so effortlessly in the Army. You’re just that guy.”
I like the guy she sees in me, as even if it’s nowhere near the truth. “I wish that was true, babe.”
Her eyes go wide. “It’s not?”
I shake my head. “Remember, I was reluctant to join up in the first place, but it was better than prison. I was a skinny, scared little shit in those early days of basic training. Barely could hold a gun or run one mile, never mind five. I was determined not to get a damn thing out of my alternative sentence.”
Maven sits on the edge of her seat, listening intently. Genuinely interested. “So what happened?”
“Life,” I say simply. “Over time, things became easier, and the better I performed, the more freedom I was given. And then, when my aptitude became common knowledge, well, suddenly following instructions gave me a lot.”
Her brows dip. “Like what?”
“Respect, for starters. But also, I moved up the ranks and earned more money, got better benefits and an office.”
I shrug, thinking about how differently my life turned out because of a fucking computer.
“Turns out, when I let myself give a damn, I actually cared about all that shit.”
She gives me a knowing, lopsided grin. “There’s nothing wrong with caring, Wilder.”
I scowl at myself. “I know, but it took me a while to learn that lesson. I care about all the people in this building. I’ll put myself in danger to protect them if I have to. The military taught me that, to care more about something than I do about myself.”
Maven drops her half-eaten box of fried rice on the table, shaking her head as she pushes up off the bed.
“Oh, no, you don’t, Wilder. Don’t you start making me like you more than I already do.”
She points a finger at me and moves around until nearly the whole damn room is between us.
“Soooo, you like me?”
“You’re a likable guy.”
“That doesn’t sound convincing.”
She sighs, coming to a stop with her back against the door. “It doesn’t matter how I feel about you. It won’t change anything.”
I stand and place my noodles on the small side table, slowly closing the gap between us.
“All I hear is that you like me, Maven. You don’t want to, but you do.”
Her hazel eyes widen, and she actually takes a step back, pressing into the door. “You’re wrong.”