Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 83430 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83430 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
“Makes sense Sam would hang around.” I run my hand down her thigh, touching her compulsively. “But the bad news is, Arsen’s watching them too.”
“Oh, shit,” she groans, leaning her head back against the couch. “Are you kidding me?”
“There’s a gap in surveillance though. Whoever Arsen’s using, they aren’t perfect. We’ll have a window, but it’ll be narrow.”
“How do you know?”
“I’ll watch them for a few more days to be sure, but you’ll have to play a part.” I force the words out like I’m dragging a hairball from my throat. I feel grimy and all wrong. “I need you, Tallie… in the house…”
“I’ll do anything, you know that.”
“I know.” I close my eyes to help steady myself. “I hate it.”
“You don’t have to worry about me.”
“Yes, I really do, and if there were any other way I’d do that instead, but I can’t get in there in the middle of the day without a distraction.”
“I’m your distraction?”
“That’s the idea.”
She pouts. “I doubt Mrs. Davis is going to be into me. Although Mr. Davis—“
“Don’t be disgusting. You’re perfectly charming without using your feminine wiles.”
“True, but my feminine wiles are extremely potent.”
“As I well know.” I bend down to kiss her. “Seriously Tallie. You don’t have to do this. Maybe Sam—“
“He’s not possible and you know it.”
I grunt because she’s right. Sam’s being followed. If he goes to the Davis house, that’ll tip off Arsen and he’ll suspect something is up. Better for Sam to stay away.
There’s nobody else, as much as I hate to admit it.
“For the record, I want you to know how hard this is for me. I’ve worked in teams before over my thieving career, but always with other professionals, men and women who took the risk as part of their life. But you…” I trail off, not sure how I can explain it. If a getaway driver got nabbed, that happened, it was all a part of the game. But Tallie? She’s more. She’s everything to me now.
“I know, and it means a lot to me, you being open like this. It’s not easy for you.”
“No, it really isn’t. Most of my adult relationships have been defined by some measure of lying. There’s always a layer between me and other people, always a cover story or a game I’m playing, but with you, it’s just…”
“It’s just life.” She tilts my chin up and kisses me. “And just life is scary.”
“I want you to promise me something. No matter what happens, you’ll keep going.”
“Brenden—“
“No, I’m serious about this. Everything I’ve done to this point has been about saving my own ass.”
“But you want to make sure my pretty ass remains intact?”
“Exactly.” I reach down and squeeze her tightly. “Promise me. No matter what.”
“I promise.” She touches my cheek. “But we’re doing this together. Nobody’s nobly sacrificing for anybody else, right?”
I kiss her so I don’t have to say: not unless I have to.
CHAPTER 25
TALIN AND BRENDEN
Tallie
Sweat dribbles down my back as I hurry up the sidewalk. It takes a lot of effort not to look around, but I don’t even know what I’d be trying to find. Some shady car? Men in trench coats smoking cigars? Eyes leering out from nearby curtains?
I have to trust Brenden. He’s been obsessively watching this house and he’s positive this is our window, only I wish I knew what I should be careful about. The less you know, the better you can play the role.
Easy for him to say, the freaking dickbrain.
I pause on the walkway leading toward the Davis house. My story echoes through my head for the fiftieth time. The problem isn’t that I know what I’m supposed to say—it’s more that I have no clue whether it’ll work or not.
Trust him. That’s what he keeps asking. Trust him and work with him, and maybe we can do this together. Through this whole nightmare I keep thinking Brenden’s finally going to pull away entirely, suck himself into some black hole and never release himself again, but instead he’s opened up. Not at first, and not smoothly, but I finally feel like we’re equals in a partnership.
Like we really are husband and wife.
The thought gives me enough courage to knock on the door.
I stand for what feels like an age until a young woman answers. She smiles at me but it’s the look of an employee doing their best to come off like they care about what’s happening. “Hello, can I help you?”
“Hi, my name’s Talin Sarkissian, I was hoping Mr. and Mrs. Davis are around? I know I’m dropping in unannounced, but it’s important.”
The young woman’s smile falters. “They’re home, but—“
“It’s about their grandson, Peter.”
That instantly gets her attention. She grimaces like I punched her in the face and turns away. “You’d better come in then.”
Relief floods me as I follow her into a sitting room beside the main entrance. I’m left on a large couch surrounded by ancient doilies and an oil painting of Mr. Davis, thirty years younger, holding an elephant gun over his shoulder and dressed like he’s going on a safari. Nightmarish, honestly, the way his creepy oil eyes stare at me. My heart’s an ugly mess and sweat beads along my underarms but I do some breathing exercises Brenden taught me to try to settle myself down. They don’t work.