I was good at ignoring shit I didn’t want to deal with.
“Working on cars, selling illegal guns, and killing assholes,” I said, watching her the whole time. She didn’t even flinch. “In between being devastatingly charming in bars, that is. Can’t forget that part of my life.”
She set her spoon down again without touching her food. Her lips didn’t even twitch at my attempt at humor to lighten the situation. “Yeah. We can’t forget that.”
I didn’t know what to do with this version of Heidi. I wanted to make her feel better, but honestly I didn’t know how. If she was upset she’d fucked me last night, there was nothing I could do to fix that. I couldn’t go back in time and unfuck her, even if I wanted to. Which I didn’t. “I’ll be out all day, so you’ll have the place to yourself. Got some business to take care of.”
She pushed the eggs around on her plate. “Okay.”
We fell silent, and I ate quickly. By the time I was done, she’d nibbled on a piece of bacon and had barely eaten a bite of eggs. At some point, she’d given up attempting to look as if she’d actually eaten anything, and instead leaned back in her chair, holding her mug of coffee. Her gaze was on the bedroom door.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Huh?” Heidi’s attention flew back to me. “Yeah, of course.”
“All right . . .” I stood and grabbed my keys, shrugged into my leather jacket, stepped into my boots, and slipped my phone into my pocket. My gun, like usual, was already in its holster. “Come here.”
She stood up and walked over, her blue eyes shadowed. “Yeah?”
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
She shook her head. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine.”
I snorted. “Darlin’, if there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s spot a liar. Fess up. Tell me what’s on your mind.”
“No.” Heidi averted her face. “It’s nothing. Really.”
“You’re regretting last night, aren’t you?”
“What? No.” She shook her head. “There’s nothing to regret. It was sex. Nothing more.”
So she kept saying. Maybe she thought she didn’t regret it, but she didn’t usually fuck killers like me. If Heidi had no regrets, she wouldn’t be acting as if I had the plague right now. “If you say so.”
She pressed her lips into a tight line. She did that when she was irritated with me, which was almost all the time. I tried to tamp down my own irritation. “I do. I’m just . . . I’m scared.”
Ah. I hadn’t expected that. But she hadn’t shown much fear up until now, so I guess it was only a matter of time till it hit her. I ran my knuckles over her cheekbone. “You’re safe as long as you’re here, or with me.”
“I’m not worried about my safety.” She pursed her lips. “I’m worried about yours.”
I blinked. People didn’t worry about me. “What? Why?”
“Because your brother is trying to kill you. I know you’re the badass criminal with no regard for human life, but it’s your brother. I don’t think you’d be able to kill him like it’s no big deal.” She locked gazes with me. “And that scares me, because from what I’ve heard . . . your brother is that type of guy.”
Heidi didn’t think I could kill him? She was wrong. Dead wrong. It wasn’t the first time she’d made assumptions about me, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. “I’m that type of guy, too. When it comes to dying or living, I’ll choose life every time.”
“I didn’t say that you wouldn’t do what had to be done.” She lifted her chin defiantly. “I just meant you’re going to do everything in your power to avoid it, and that might be your downfall . . . because he won’t.”
Jesus Christ. I’d killed men before, and I didn’t lose any sleep over most of them. But Chris and Heidi seemed to think that my reluctance to gun down my little brother was a character flaw. I didn’t want to kill my brother. Why was that a bad thing?
What the hell did they want from me?
I let go of her and stepped back, anger pumping through my veins. “If you want me to be the type of man who can kill family without exploring other options first, well, then it’s good that last night was just sex.”
“No.” She paled. “No, that’s not what I meant.”
I rested my hand on my gun. “If Scotty doesn’t leave me any choice, I’ll do what I have to. But, no, I don’t particularly want to put a bullet in the brain of the kid I used to tuck in at night. I don’t want to walk away from a broken body that used to be a boy who was captain of his little league team, and just chalk him up as another enemy eliminated. I don’t want to believe that my baby brother hates me enough to plan my execution. But, what, you think I should just write him off now? Is that what I should do?”
She shook her head. “N-no, of course not. I’d never want you to kill anyone. That’s the problem. I don’t want you to kill him. I can’t . . . you can’t . . .”
And just like that, I understood what this was about. She knew how this would likely end—even if I wasn’t ready to accept it yet—and she was terrified of the fact that she’d fucked a man who would kill his own brother to survive. She was ashamed.