She wasn’t sure what point he was making until she began to smooth her fingertips over his chest, his shoulders, and then his face. With a gentle caress, she traced all the ridges of old scars she hadn’t really noticed until now. He was covered in them. To say she was shocked would be an understatement.
“Not so handsome anymore, eh? I try to hide this shit with ink, but it’s not the physical scars that bother me the most. They’ve fucked up my head so bad that killing’s the only thing that keeps me sane.”
She swallowed hard. “I think you’re perfect.” The words slipped from her lips before she really thought better. It wasn’t a lie. Bain was the roughest, scariest man she’d ever seen, but also irresistible and hardcore in a way that made her body light up for the first time in her life.
Her hand was still on his cheek, his rough stubble tickling her fingers. She noticed the thick scars under his eye, and she was tempted to kiss it better.
Whatever she thought they’d shared—a moment, a breakthrough—was gone when he bolted to his feet as if her touch scorched him.
He paced back and forth, his chest heaving as if he’d just run a two-minute mile. What had she said to upset him? Had she pegged him wrong? Was he ready to kill? Maybe he was about to prove her wrong once again, just as Jerry and Michael had. She didn’t want to believe it, but maybe some people were beyond redemption.
****
He’d fucked up. Bain knew he shouldn’t have brought the witness home with him. He should have just killed her off site and dumped the body. It didn’t matter if she disappeared, as long as it didn’t lead back to him. All his efforts had been for the benefit of Killer of Kings—he refused to look like an unprofessional. Bain wasn’t sure why Boss’s opinion mattered so much. It shouldn’t.
Now this girl was pushing his buttons, testing him, making him feel things he shouldn’t. Boss had made it clear she had to die. He expected Bain to follow through and clean up the potential shit storm that could develop from taking a hostage. But he wasn’t ready to follow that order. In fact, he didn’t like orders at all. It’s the main reason he worked for himself all these years, taking solo contracts, but never committing to anything long term. He couldn’t stand being smothered, having any human lord over him.
“Your turn,” he said. Bain needed to move onto something new. He desperately needed a distraction from his traitorous thoughts. And his fucking migraine was growing in intensity, messing with his head.
“For what?”
“The bath,” he said. “You wanted to go after me, right? The longer you wait the colder the water gets.”
She frowned. “Fine.”
He squatted down next to her chair and began to undo the tight knots. She rested her hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged her off. No more touching. “Okay, you have ten minutes.” He dropped the ropes to the ground.
When his phone started ringing downstairs in the kitchen, he ignored it. He knew it was information on his next hit, even though he’d asked for a text, but Boss would have to wait.
“You can go get that,” she said, standing up. “I’d rather undress in private anyway.”
“Yeah, not going to happen. I wasn’t born yesterday.” He sat down on her chair, his legs splayed as he rested his elbows on his knees. “Get undressed. I already told you I’d see you naked.”
“Well, I’m shy.”
Bain wasn’t going to lie, he was disappointed. He’d been looking forward to getting an eyeful of Scarlett’s lush curves. His cock was already firm just thinking of them. But he wasn’t going to force her to strip if she refused. “Then you’ll go without bathing,” he s
aid.
With his mood soured, he ordered her out of his room and down the staircase as he followed right behind her. Once in the kitchen, he pointed to her chair as he grabbed his cell off the table.
“Do you still want me to interview you?” she asked.
“Story time’s over.” He’d been a fool to entertain Scarlett. She’d be his fucking undoing if he continued to play her games.
He called Boss back. “You have the information?”
“You deal with the problem?”
Bain growled, grinding his teeth together rather than speaking.
“Is that a yes?” Boss asked.
“I don’t repeat myself. I said it would be handled.”
There was a brief silence.
“I’ll text you the address and details. This mark needs to take a dive off one of the balconies at lunch hour tomorrow. We need a street full of witnesses for his suicide. Can you handle that?”