I looked back down to the papers. “Why are you taking me with you?”
His expression dropped as his jaw ticked. “I need to find another agent, and seeing as I’ve been targeted, I need a cover.”
“Traveling with a wife versus traveling as a single man.” It made sense. “Is that why you haven’t forced me to tell you?” He easily could have.
He nodded and headed over to my lead wire. “Look at me.” Our eyes met as his tone changed. “Are you going to try anything stupid?”
A ripple of fear raced down my spine, and I covered it up with a roll of my eyes and my sarcastic mouth. “Thanks to you, I’m wanted. Add in that you’ve warned me enough about how you’re going to kill me, or if I try anything you’ll kill me, or that I know you have a bullet for me to eat. I think I’m good.”
“Say it.” He held the key above the lock, waiting.
I sighed. “I’m not going to try and get away, asshole. No fucking point, anyway.”
“Because I’ll kill you,” he said, making sure he stressed again how this game was ending.
I folded my arms in front of me. “You’re a broken record, you know that?”
“Making sure you know what the stakes are.”
I help up one hand. “Death.” Then held up the other. “Kinky sex with some adventure, then death.”
He pulled his gun from his waistband and held it up. “And which is it?”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re a moron.” His finger moved to the trigger. “You really need me to tell you I want kinky sex before I die?”
His lip twitched into a smirk. “Yeah.” He lowered the gun and put it back.
“Ass,” I said under my breath as he undid the hunk of metal.
There was nothing like the feeling of no longer being attached to that damn wire. I rolled my ankle first, then my leg, moving everything around unhindered. There were marks and bruises, but all in all, everything was okay, just a little stiff.
My good mood was dampened by a pair of jeans being thrown at my face.
“Get dressed.”
Buzzkill.
Still, excitement moved through me—I was leaving the shithole. Granted, the scenery may change, but my companion would not. I believed his promises. I knew by his physical presence, the strength he’d used on me, that he could kill me with his bare hands.
Stripping my clothes off in front of Six was no longer embarrassing. Amazing what a few weeks being chained to a bed and fucked will do. For the first time in over a week I slipped on my bra, new jeans, and the flats he bought.
“Contacts,” he said, stopping my beeline to the door.
I stopped in my tracks. “What?”
“The contacts.” He held a small bag out to me.
“Why?”
He sighed, his jaw clenching. “Because your eyes stand out almost as much as your hair did.”
“Isn’t there stuff like facial recognition software everywhere now?” I asked as I snatched the bag from him and moved to the bathroom.
I hated putting in contacts. There was a reason I had laser eye correction surgery the moment I could.
Once done, I picked up everything and walked toward the door where Six was waiting.
We loaded into a different car than we arrived in, and I had no idea when he changed or if it was even the first one in the time we’d been there. It was an upgrade from the shitty one he’d stolen, though.
“Where’d you heist this one from?” I asked as we exited the motel parking lot. I half expected the place to go up in flames in the rearview mirror, but it didn’t happen. Surprising, since my lead cable was still there.
“Doesn’t matter.”
“How are you so confident in your actions?”
“Because it’s my job.”
Ah-ha. His job. A one word confirmation of something I’d suspected.
“Gun for hire or secret agent man?”
Silence.
I thought maybe I’d get some reaction from him, but instead an eerie calm fell over him and his fingers were clenched tight around the steering wheel.
He let go of one small piece of information about himself. It was a start.
It took about an hour for us to reach a mall, and we headed into Macy’s hand in hand. He did let go once shopping commenced, but his watchful eye was always on me and he remained within a ten-or twenty-foot radius of me.
Not exactly sure what I was looking for, I started pulling items I liked from the racks. As I headed to the dressing room, Six was steps behind, a handful of items in his arms.
There was quite a difference in colors we picked. Everything Six had was neutral—grays and blacks—and devoid of any pattern, while I had colorful prints and stripes along with some plain pieces.
We entered one of the larger dressing rooms and I began trying clothes on, the lust in his eyes growing heavier with each time I stripped.
I flipped over the tag of a dress Six handed me. “Two hundred dollars?” I balked at the price for what was nothing more than a simple sweater dress.
The last dress I bought for that much was for my friend Alison’s wedding two years ago.
“Money isn’t an option.”