“All for a woman you’re going to kill?”
“Authenticity. Besides, when am I going to be a married man again? And don’t women like shopping sprees?”
I nodded, still dumbfounded. “I’m adding this to my bucket list. I don’t give a fuck that it’s fake.”
“The shopping or the marriage?”
“All of the above.” I stared down at the way light reflected off the precision cuts. “But it will be nice to be married before I die, even if there was no wedding or love… Though love would’ve been great to have…at the end.”
Before we left the mall, I ended up changing into the sweater dress with some leggings and the knee-high boots we purchased, adding in a belt to give the charcoal gray plain dress a little flare. But not too much. Six had already pressed for neutral colors. Even he was wearing jeans and a gray T-shirt with a sports jacket.
“We match,” I said as we stood in front of the dressing room mirror. Same colored clothing to go with our matching blond hair and brown eyes. “We look more like twins than lovers like this.”
He pursed his lips. “I’ve got some other colors of contacts in the car.”
“What color does your passport say?”
“Blue.”
“And you didn’t put them in before we left?” I asked him. He’d been so adamant about mine, I was surprised he forgot.
“I’m a constant chameleon with three other sets of identities on me. You are the one whose face has been blasted everywhere for the past week.”
Somewhere there had to be a karma chameleon to bite his constant chameleon status in the ass.
My hands shook the entire way to the airport. I never took drama in high school. Besides faking an occasional orgasm with a boyfriend, I’d never delved into acting at all. Now, I was about to enter an airport with a killer, who’d had me chained in a motel for a week, and pose as his wife.
Shopping was different. Shopping I had fun with, especially when there was no limit. Going through a security checkpoint and customs with falsified documentation scared me in more ways than I could keep track of.
There was nothing gentle, loving, or affectionate in Six’s touch. Then again, he fooled me the night I met him. Maybe if he acted like that, I could channel the me from that night and a dream of what that version of him and I could’ve morphed into.
My mind wandered back to that night, to his smile. Since meeting Six, the only smile I was graced with was a condescending one or a menacing one when he had his cock in hand. When he was Simon, he was smooth, personable, and flirtatious.
He was the kind of man I would’ve dated, explored a relationship with. Even taken him to meet my parents and maybe one day married.
“Calm yourself. If you fuck this up, just remember I don’t need a gun to kill you, and a crowded airport won’t stop me.”
All of the fuzzy thoughts and feelings vanished, and I sighed.
Dream dead.
“I was getting in the zone. Did you need to ruin it by once again reminding me of the coming bullet to my brainpan?”
His brow scrunched, and he shot me an icy glare.
I threw my hand up in his face. “Shut up. I don’t fucking care about your retort. You’re going to kill me, blah, blah, blah. I know.” The light turned red, and the moment the car was stopped he turned in his seat. “Don’t fucking look at me that way. You’re the one who didn’t kill me and is now jet setting me to fuck knows where. You want me act like a bubbly blonde, loving wife? Give me some motherfucking inspiration.”
Anxiety took over, my heart hammering in my chest, and I felt like I was about to have a panic attack. How was I supposed to be convincing with him reminding me he was going to snuff out my existence?
“Like what?”
I threw my arms up in the air in exasperation as I tried to find the words. “Kiss me. Kiss me like you want to eat me whole, suck out my essence.” Passion, desire, something to inspire our fake marriage. “Like if you don’t kiss me as if the world is about to end, you’ll explode. Take the breath from me, and when you’re done, give me a sexy smile and take my hand.”
He stared at me, probably wondering if his captive had lost her mind, then righted his posture and hit the gas.
“I’m not a character from a romance novel.”
“Thanks for that, Captain Obvious, but could you maybe act like it for one minute? Just one fucking minute before I have to hang on your arm like a trophy?”
I crossed my arms and sat back with a huff, my jaw clenching. Couldn’t a girl ask for some romance from her fake husband-slash-captor? Bring back the guy I was shopping with, because he was better than the jerk behind the wheel.
We pulled into the airport area, and my leg began to bounce. My brow scrunched a bit when he didn’t follow the signs for long-term parking, and instead went to the short-term garage.
“Why are we parking here?”