“So you’re basically on his fucking payroll until death do you part.”
She shrugs. “I guess, technically? I don’t know any more, Stiles. I have no idea what to do here. I don’t know what his plans are for you, or what you have to do with anything that he deals with. I checked you out. You don’t do anything illegal. Not really anyway.”
“You checked me out?”
Of course, she checked me out. “Well, ya got something fucking right at least.”
Green’s face falls. That was a low blow, I know, but damn, I’m pissed the fuck off right now.
This guy is the real deal. Sucks you in, gets you comfortable, and before you know it, you owe him a favor. Or ten. People like this, it’s their way of bribing someone without that person actually realizing their being bribed.
In other words—blood money.
Once they’ve got you, they’ve pretty much got you.
My point is…
Hold up.
Something just clicked with my brain.
“Did you say your job was paying really well??” She doesn’t exactly misuse grammar, this one.
“Yeah.”
“Meaning?”
I’m thinking it could be anything from them firing her because they found out what she was up to, to her getting a promotion because what she’s up to could help them, a million ways to conspiracy.
“I quit.”
But I was definitely not thinking that.
“Why?”
“I’ve said it a hundred times, Stiles. I didn’t know you then. Now that I do, and I’m seeing what happened to Donnie as more than just another criminal getting what he deserved, I want to do more than just report on gossip.” She pauses. “I need to. And if I can’t do it for The Chronicle, then I’ll find another way.”
Green impresses me. More so than anyone else I’ve met in Redemption. The fact that she’s willing to leave and cut ties with this asshole, or at least try to, says a lot more about her than what originally meets the eye.
“You surprise me, Green.”
“Well, there was one other thing that influenced me in the decision to leave.”
She’s blushing, and I want to know why.
“What’s that?”
“This.” She motions between us, and the entire mood of the evening changes for me. Just like that. I’ve gone from angry and about to give her a piece of my mind to take with her on her way out the door, to… I don’t know exactly how to describe it.
Hopeful?
“And what exactly is this?” I mimic her gesture between the two of us. Even though I don’t know what the fuck to call it at this particular point in time, I know there’s something.
I felt it.
She felt it.
I know she fucking felt it.
“This is real, Jackson.”
My blood stops, mid-motion, inside me. She’s not fooling me one bit, though. I know she pulled my first name out like that on purpose.
Element of surprise, ladies and gentlemen. Works every time.
I’m fighting the walls I’ve worked pretty damn hard to put up with her.
“Am I supposed to believe you?” I don’t want to. I want the wall to stay intact, quite honestly. I like it that way. Everything is very black and white with the wall up.
With every look she gives me, every touch of her hand on mine, she chips away at that shit.
“You know all my tells.” She makes it difficult. Her eyes don’t stray away from mine. She’s either playing it cool or she’s got nothing to hide now. The fidgeting is gone, and all her fucking hair is in her face.
“Maybe I need more than tells. Hell, maybe what I need is…” I don’t know if saying it out loud is smart or not. Jesus, I don’t even know if I know how to say this shit out loud.
“What, Jackson?” This time, my name is a whisper. The word is barely audible. But the way my name leaves her lips this time, I don’t know. She knows what I fucking need.
She’s always known.
It’s officially “shit or get off the pot” time.
So I take a step toward her and swallow down the goddamn walls.
“You.”
Damn. You’d think I’d choke on the words, but with her, it’s like I’ve been waiting a lifetime to say them. And fuck me, it’s out there. Nothing to do but wait for a sign. I mean, hell, either she’s into this or she’s not. Right?
“I want you, too.” She says it like she’s been waiting, too. Like it’s the easiest fucking thing in the world to say.
That’s my fucking sign.
“You sure this time, Green?”
I step closer to her. She nods as she gets up to take a step backward. A complete and fucking contradiction to what she’s saying.
“’Cause I don’t wanna hear any of this professionalism bullshit halfway to hard.”
I was more than halfway last time. Let’s not pussyfoot around that fuckery.
“I’m sure,” she breathes out.
I open up a few buttons on my shirt as I take another few steps in her direction. Anticipation hasn’t always been my strong suit. “Why are you fucking backing away from me then?”
Maybe she’s playing me.