He winces again and runs a hand over his face.
“I’m not a killer,” he tries.
“Could have fooled me,” I snap. “How many others have you arranged to go ‘missing’?”
“None,” he says, and there’s a pleading note in his voice, begging me to believe him. “I swear, Allison. I had a rough past, but I’ve never killed anyone.”
“Then why would you say that?” I ask coldly.
Kyle hesitates, and then he sighs.
“Because I hate him for what he’s done to you,” he says bluntly, and I lean back, surprised by the passion in his voice. “I wasn’t lying. I don’t care where he ends up. I just want him out of your life.”
For a moment I’m stunned by his sincerity. I know he’s telling the truth. In the back of my mind, part of me is swooning, wanting to hear more.
The rest of me, the more logical part of me, is slowly getting angry.
“Seriously?” I ask in a low voice. “So, you’re okay with turning a blind eye to murder if it means you won’t have to dirty your hands? You do know the assassin’s client is just as culpable as the assassin, don’t you?”
He grimaces. “I’m aware.”
“Maybe you’re angry and you said something you didn’t mean to,” I allow. “But that message will get passed on, and someone who doesn’t mind killing will find Jesse and remove him. Then what? You’ll be a party to murder because you started it.”
I search his face, looking for some kind of shame, something to tell me that he’s upset that he could be causing something like that. But he just looks stressed that I’m angry at him, and I realize that, as long as Jesse leaves me alone, he doesn’t care what happens next.
The idea that Kyle would be willing to go to those lengths to protect me is, frankly, horrifying. I step back.
“Please leave,” I say, my voice hollow.
“Allison,” he tries.
“Leave!” I demand. “I need to think.”
Kyle looks conflicted. But then he sighs and nods.
“Don’t come back,” I warn. “If I see you around here when I told you to leave me alone, I’ll call the police on you. Don’t even go creeping around that damn alley.”
His face twists into a grimace, but he nods. I slam my door shut and drop the bag of groceries to the floor, running for the window.
Five minutes later I hear an engine starting up. I watch the alley carefully, and a motorbike roars out of it. Kyle is wearing a helmet now, but I recognize his bulk, even if he’s hunched over the handlebars. Seconds later, he’s gone, the roar of the engine disappearing into the distance.
I sigh and draw back from the window.
Now what?
Oddly, the apartment feels strangely lonely. Which is ridiculous, because I was here by myself both last night and on Sunday night. Then again, I knew Kyle was outside, carefully keeping watch, so I wasn’t actually alone.
I grimace. Damnit. Looks like I’ve somehow gotten used to Kyle being around.
He’s only been in your life less than a week, I remind myself. It’s stupid to get attached.
But I am attached. I’m an idiot who decided to feel safe in the arms of a stranger. I should have just thanked him and gone on my way last week. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about problems like these, where worrying aspects of Kyle’s personality suddenly come up.
I believe him when he says he’s never killed anyone. I’m curious about this “rough past” that he mentioned, but not enough to call Kyle back. I can live without knowing it. Right now, I just want to lick my wounds in peace and pretend that I wasn’t such a damn fool.
My phone dings in my pocket, and I look at it. It’s Jacqui.
“What movie?”