“I’ll tell you when it gets too messy for
me.” I don’t want it to be, but it’s already
there. I’ve been careful to avoid the major
players in Kuseros’s underworld. Too much
visibility. Too much potential for someone
like Mike-the-Merc to recognize me and rat
me out up the chain. And she’s dragging me
straight into the path of one of the biggest fish
in the pond.
But there’s no way I’m going to let Tyng
break her.
I stroke her cheek with my thumb.
“Wanna know what I think?”
She nods.
“I think you’re right about Tyng. He is
using you to test his top dogs. See which of
‘em barks. And he’s testing you. Looking for
your breaking point. Maybe that’s why he
sent you to Kincaid. He must know what that
fucker’s like.”
“I hadn’t thought of that.” Her arms
tighten around my neck. “You’re probably
right.”
“You gotta ask yourself where this ends,
Kez. Once he gets his pound of flesh,
whatever it is, you think that’ll be the end of
it?”
“I don’t know.”
I do. “Men like him never stop. He’ll
destroy you, and then go after your brother
anyway.” I stroke her fuzzy head. “It’s a
matter of honor. And honor’s never
satisfied.”
“I don’t know what else to do. Short of
tying up Chiara and dragging her back home,
I can’t force her to go back—”
“That’s not the worst idea.”
She snuffles. “It goes against everything I
believe in.”
Her and her issues with authority. “Well,
there’s always plan B.”
“What’s plan B?” she asks.
“Take out Tyng.” And it clicks.
Something that’s been nagging at me ever
since she showed up at the docks. Ever since
she put her hand in mine and looked up at me
with those big blue eyes. Ever since I
realized it was the danger she wanted. That
it’s what she was looking for. And the cold
knot that’s gathered while she’s told me
about Tyng expands to fill my gut. “But you
already thought of that.”
She shakes her head. “I’m not suicidal. I
could never hope to get close enough to Tyng
to kill him.”
That’s not much of an obstacle. Not with
Baby Tyng on side. “You don’t think Chiara
would take you home to meet Daddy? I’m
bettin’ she could get you close enough.”
Kez snuffles. “I couldn’t do it. Kill
someone like that. I’ve only ever . . .
defended myself. I’m not a killer.”
I am. And she knows it. “Yeah, you’d
need someone t’do it for you.”
She lifts her head from my neck. Her wet,
red eyes flick over my face. No dilation
now. I can’t tell what she’s thinking. Not at
this moment. But there’s no question that she
thought of it before. That this is what she’s
wanted from me all along.
“How much d’you think I should charge
for that, kitten?” I ask softly.
“Wait a minute, I would never ask you to
—”
“You don’t need to, do you? All you
hadda do was get me to this point, where it’s
him or you. You know where I’ll come
down.”
“No.” She squeezes her eyes closed.
“No, it’s not like that.”
“Seems to me it’s all about protectin’
your brother,” I say slowly. “Too bad you
had to pay flesh after all—”
“No.” Her face crumples. “I came to you
because I was afraid that this might be my
last chance. If Tyng does something to me
like what he was threatening to do to Ape . . .
if he scars my face . . . I was afraid you
wouldn’t want me.” A tear streaks down her
pale cheek. Followed by another. “I was
afraid . . . I’m so afraid . . .”
“Kez—”
All the fear and frustration inside her
suddenly hits critical mass. I see it in the
way the blood rises to her face, the way tears
sheet down her cheeks. I have a moment, the
calm before the storm, in which I reach for
her, and then she explodes.
“I never, ever thought of asking you to
kill Tyng! How could you think I would do
that? I’ve been more honest with you than
anyone I’ve ever been with. I’ve told you
everything! And you think, what, what do you
think? That I’m just using you? That
everything has been an act to get you to
protect Ape?!”
Maybe not everything. She wasn’t faking
when she came. At least not the second time.
I’m still not sure about the time in the alley.
“Kez—”
She pushes away from me and stands,
hands clenched at her sides. “You do! You
think I let you fuck me just so you’d protect
my brother!”
I know she did. What I’m trying to figure
out is how much it bothers me. The cold knot
in my gut says quite a lot. But not enough to
walk away from her, not when I know what
Tyng will do to her.
She hiccups on her tears. “Do you know
– do you know the one thing I’ve been afraid
of? More than anything else? Not that Tyng
would kill me or ruin my face or whatever,
but that he’d find out about you. I was afraid the thing he’d take away from me is you!
That’s why I didn’t want you to come with
me to get the money from Kincaid! I didn’t
want him to get a shot at you. I am such an
idiot!”
She’s winding up, getting increasingly
hysterical, until she’s either going to storm
out or say something I’ll have trouble
forgiving. I harden my expression and point
at the spot next to me she’s just vacated.
Time to end the emotional maelstrom. Time
to lay down the law. She responds best when
I give her rules. “Sit down.”
“Fuck you!”
“Sit down, Kezra.”
She wipes her face furiously. Remains
standing.
“Sit down or you’re gonna end up face
down on this bed while I tan your ass, and
this time you won’t enjoy it.”
“You fucker,” she hisses. But she sits
down on the futon, a careful distance from
me.
“It’s not bedtime yet,” I say slowly,
giving her time to cool down and start
listening. “But I’m gonna tell you a story.”
“I don’t want to hear—”
“Interruptin’ me will get you that ass-
whipping,” I warn. “Blow your nose and
listen.” I look around for something for her to
blow her nose on. Two of the rabbits have
cautiously nosed through the membrane and
are sitting near the door, watching us. They’d
&n
bsp; do, but then she’d probably have to wash
them. I offer her a corner of the bedcover.
She shakes her head, reaches across me into
the drawer of her nightstand, and pulls a
wipe out of a small container. She rubs her
face, then blows her nose, loud and wet.
Real snot. Real tears.
When she looks up at me, more than a
little resentment coiling in those big eyes, I
begin. “This is the story of a man who’s only
ever been good at one thing. He killed his
first man at thirteen standard. Killed so many
since he’s lost count. Company taught him to
be a better killer, praised him for it, paid him
for it, and locked him up when he got too
good at it. It’s the one thing he knows, and
it’s the one thing people value him for.”
She shakes her head. “No.”
I raise a finger. “What’d I say?”
She presses her lips together, snuffles
and shuts up.
“If you saw this killer on the street, he’d
look like everyone else. Maybe a little
bigger, a little meaner. But inside—” I shrug.
“Inside’s a different story. He knows what he
is. Women know it, too. They can sense it.
And they’re scared of him. Except when the
shit hits the fan. Then women come to him.
Lookin’ for protection. And they offer him
the one thing he can’t get for himself. But
They just want him to kill for them.”
She’s listening now. Her eyes, bloodshot
and wet, have dilated.
“Our killer, he knows why they come. He
takes what they offer. Or he pays for it, when
he has to. But he knows that they’d rather be
somewhere else. With someone else. And
when he touches them, he sees them close
their eyes. He knows what they’re thinking.
It’s not his face they’re seeing behind their
eyelids.”
I reach out and take one of Kez’s
dreadlocks. Roll it between my fingers as I
remember how she came to me. “Then along
comes this girl. She’s beautiful. Smart.
Fearless. Everything he admires in a woman.
He wants her from the very first moment he
sees her. And when he touches her, she
doesn’t close her eyes. But it’s all an act. It
has to be. ‘Cause what woman could really
wanna be with a killer?”
She shakes her head, but doesn’t
interrupt.
“So when he finds out she does need
someone killin’, he finally understands. And
he figures she’s just like all the rest. Only
she’s a better actor.”
When I pause, she whispers, “Can I say
something?”
I nod. “Sure, storytime’s over.”
“What if she’s a lousy actor?” She scoots
closer to me on the futon. Puts her palm flat
on my chest. “What if she comes to him
because she sees something no one has
before?”
She’s missing the point. “People are
drawn to the killer, make no mistake. It’s just
for the wrong reasons.”
She bites her lip, then plows on. “Maybe
she’s drawn to him for the right reasons.
Maybe she thinks he’s beautiful. Maybe . . .
she sees how he moves . . . every motion so
controlled. She knows that he’d never hurt
her, never give her too much of what she
needs to feel good. Maybe she dreams about
him every night. Maybe she falls asleep
whispering her secrets to the pillow and
pretending it’s him because she knows he’d
never betray her . . .” Her voice catches,
breaks. Pain contracts her pupils. “Can’t you
see I’m different?”
She is different. I’m just not sure how
different. “Our killer’s seen lots of kinds of
different. In the end, they’ve all turned out to
be the same.” Even Marin. She didn’t come
to me because she wanted me. She just
needed me to protect her.
“Well, I’m not.” Her eyes fill again.
“Kez—”
“I’m not!” she flares. Tears slip down
her cheeks. “I’m real! I’ve told you
everything. No matter how bad it was. I
didn’t hold anything back. I just wanted you
to be real with me!”
“This is me bein’ real, Kez.”
She shakes her head. “This is you hurting
me.” She strokes her fingertips down my
breastbone. Follows the motion with her
eyes. Her lower lip trembles. “When I was
so sure you wouldn’t.”
I touch her shoulder. “I’m not angry, Kez.
I got no problem killin’ him. All you have to
do is ask.”
She pushes against my chest. “I am not
asking.”
I gather her to me. Maybe it wasn’t an
act. Maybe I was wrong. Experience is a fine
teacher, but maybe the bitch’s lessons don’t
apply here. Maybe my one percent is
something else. One in a billion. A woman
who doesn’t care what I’ve done, or what I
can do for her. “What d’you want from me,
kitten?”
“I just want to be with you.” She stops
resisting and slowly, slowly, lays her head
on my shoulder.
I hold her in silence while I reflect on
this strange, new beauty. The novelty of a
woman who doesn’t want anything from me.
I was telling her the truth when I said I
wasn’t angry. The thought that it was all a
set-up just left me . . . cold. Acid-hollowed. I
Marin hadn’t died, and Mouse before her, I
still would be. Whatever I felt, I still would
have killed Tyng for her. And I kill best
when I’m cold.
But I’m not cold anymore. Her tears have
filled that empty place. I’m not sure what to
think. What to feel. But her reaction leaves
me in no doubt. It wasn’t an act. I draw her
legs across mine, then pull her completely
into my lap. She slides her arms around my
neck. I hold her close for a long, quiet time.
“You told Ape or Chiara any of this?” I
ask finally.
“No.” She wipes her face. Is she still
crying? I tip her face up with my finger under
her chin. Her eyes are wet and red but her
cheeks are dry. She’s got herself under
control. “Tyng told me not to. I was afraid
. . . Ape doesn’t keep any secrets from
Chiara and, well, I don’t know if we can
trust her. She’s still in contact with her
sisters.”
“So you were plannin’ on sacrificing
yourself without even lettin’ ‘em know?
That’s a strange kinda martyrdom, kitten.”
Her chin crumples. “I don’t know what
else to do.”
I cup the nape of her neck. Give her the
gentle kiss the moment calls for. “I’ll tel
l you
what we’re gonna do.”
She lifts her head and looks at me. Her
eyes narrow. “It doesn’t involve killing
anyone, does it?”
“Nope. It involves finishing that rendang
before it goes stone cold.”
Chapter 13
We finish our food – which has cooled to
lukewarm but is still pretty fucking tasty – on
the floor of Kez’s bedroom. Kez sits cross-
legged while I prop my back against her bed
and stretch my legs out across the polished
pseudowood floor. I keep the conversation
light. No point ruining what’s left of the
meal.
Once we’re eating and the tension begins
to dissipate, the two rabbits that have been
watching from near the door begin inching
towards us. A black and white one, who
could be Ronnie, comes in low across the
floor, his head down, his back feet splayed
behind him, looking like he’s crawling on his
tip-toes. I point this out to Kez, who smiles
through her curry.
“They do that when they’re uncertain.
C’mere, Ronnie.” She taps her fingers
against the floor and the rabbit bounds over
to her. It sniffs her fingers and then flops
down next to her knee so heavily I feel the
vibration through the floor.
The black one that I evicted from her bed
earlier hops past me in a more stately
manner, jumps up on the bed, and nudges my
shoulder several times.
“Do not feed him,” Kez warns. “Spicy
food gives rabbits diarrhea.”
That is definitely too messy for me. I
keep my food away from King Bunny. He
abandons the attempt after a few more head-
butts and stretches out across the bed, his
long, furry hind paws kicked out to one side.
When I tip my chin at the rabbit’s posture,
Kez grins.
“Glamor feet,” she says.
That gets me chuckling. It fits. Her
rabbits are, oddly for prey animals, quite the
little divas.
A third rabbit noses through the door
flap, crosses the floor without reservation,
and hunkers down near my feet.
“The third amigo,” Kez says. “Wherever
Tigger and Ronnie are, Bunker’s not far
behind.”
Bunker looks a lot like King Bunny, only
it’s the tips of his ears, his face and his paws
that are black, while the rest of his coat is a
deep chocolate brown. His fur is just a little
shorter than Alpha Bunny’s and looks very
fine and very soft. Without knowing anything
about rabbits, I’d say he’s a handsome
specimen and I tell Kez so.