Page 58 of Burn the World Down

I made an annoyed sound.

“I knew he was right.”

There was a cool chill to his voice and the air lodged in my throat.

His eyes met mine, dark and churning. “I was into some pretty dark stuff. I didn’t want you anywhere near that. I wasn’t nice to be around.”

My fingers tightened on his. “I wouldn’t have cared.”

“I know, but I did. I wanted you to have a good, normal life. I didn’t want you dragged into what I was doing. Or worse, make you a target. I did a hard job so that you could live a good life.”

I gave a soft, but harsh, laugh. “Life had other plans.”

His face hardened. I tried to pull away, but he shifted his chair back and pulled me out of my chair. He yanked me onto his lap.

“Nash—”

“Shh.” He pressed his face to my hair. “Let me hold you. I’m sorry you suffered. I should’ve checked on you. “

“I’m not your responsibility.”

He tilted my chin up. I saw the hard edges to his face. “Yeah, you are.” His hand rested on my thigh and squeezed. I felt his calluses on my skin and goosebumps shivered over me.

“When you didn’t come home for Elliot’s funeral, I knew you were never coming back,” I whispered.

His arms tightened on me. “Fuck, I miss him. He was the best of us. Good, solid, dependable.” Nash chuckled. “That makes him sound like a golden retriever. He’d hate that.”

He would. “I miss him too.”

“I thought of you so much. Once, I was in a bad place. I’d carried out a mission, I was on the run and being hunted.” His chest shuddered. “I was hiding in the attic of this barn in a village in a country I will never tell you about.” He drew in a breath. “I imagined holding your hand, pulling you into my arms, kissing you. Just the memory of your smile kept me going.”

Oh, God. The air lodged in my chest. I shifted on his lap and felt the hard bulge growing beneath me.

“Nash.” It was a needy whisper.

His hand gripped my thigh, his thumb rubbing in maddening circles.

“You’re still hurt.Nothingis happening between us until your bruises are gone and you’re fully healed.”

“Nash, I’m fine?—”

He shook his head, then set me on my feet.

“How about a stroll through the casino?”

I huffed out a breath. A stroll wasn’t what I wanted. “Fine.”

He thanked the restaurant staff, then led me to the elevators.

As we walked into the casino, he held my hand in his. He led me past a wide corridor filled with high-end stores. I glanced at the beautiful clothes in the window. I hadn’t bought any nice clothes in so long. I hadn’t needed them.

There were more classy, bronze Christmas decorations strung up everywhere. My heart squeezed.

“Viv loved Christmas.” My first Christmas without her. My first where I’d be alone.

“Can’t say I’ve celebrated Christmas much,” Nash said.

No, I guess badass retired assassins didn’t care much about Christmas.