Scars (The Killers #5) - Brynne Asher Page 0,39

to be a long month but you’ll come around,” I mutter.

“Never. Now spill these so-called rules so my life can be even more miserable than it already is.”

“Fine.” I nod and think. I hadn’t planned on putting parameters on taking her to the damn fundraiser, which is a cover for her to get close to the senator from hell. “One—no more lying in bed and no more holing yourself away in my room.”

She shakes her head. “I know where I’m welcome and where I’m not. I’m used to hiding.”

“You’re not in the Middle East and my room is not a cave. Consider yourself done hiding out. You’re here and that means you’re going to be present. We’re gonna be one big, happy fucking family if it kills me.”

She rolls her eyes. “It’ll kill someone, that’s for certain.”

I ignore her because I’m over anyone dying right now. “Two—I want you to spend time with Abbs every morning to teach her French. Consider it earning your keep.”

This time her eyes widen and all the fire leaves her face. “Abbott wants nothing to do with me. I will not force time with her.”

I dip my face to hers. “She won’t throw a fit if I tell her it’s happening. Despite the dumbass who gave birth to her, she’s smart, Bella. Gifted. Her brain is hungry and it doesn’t matter what I introduce her to, she eats it up like I haven’t fed her in days.”

“Then why don’t you teach her?”

“As you can see, my time at home is limited.”

“I can attest to the fact if a child is not open to learning something new, it can be detrimental to shove it down their teeny, tiny throats. I was that child, Cole.”

He nods. “I’m not surprised but if I tell her this is happening, she’ll do it because she doesn’t like to disappoint me. And it’s a way for you two to get to know each other with a purpose.”

“And what will happen in a few weeks when I’m gone? I highly doubt Red will be able to carry on with French lessons.”

“I refuse to talk about you leaving. I have three-and-a-half weeks to convince you to stay.”

She sighs. “Anything else?”

“Yeah. Two more things. Quit rolling away from me at night. My dick and I have missed you.”

“Still, you talk about your penis as a separate being?”

“As you can tell,” I press into her again, “it is.”

She shakes her head.

“Admit it,” I demand. “You miss him as much as he’s missed you.”

“Cole—”

“He misses everything about you—your mouth, the curve of your ass, your tits—”

“—would you stop—”

“—and especially your pussy, which is really mine and always will be.”

“As crude as ever.”

“Crude as fuck,” I amend. “Admit it, you liked it before and secretly still do.”

“Please, when you’re done thinking with your cock, do me the honor of telling me the final rule so I can focus on clearing my name to live freely again.”

I let her go and she steps away immediately. I rearrange the cock she secretly loves so my hard on is less painful than had she really kneed me in the nuts. “Three—I reserve the right to add more rules. I have full faith you’ll come around eventually, but right now you’re a pain in my ass. And not in a good way.”

I grab her hand to physically remove her from my bedroom. She tries to pull away—but I’m determined.

I look back one more time and give her a nod. “Trust me, Red is nothing compared to the terrorists I’ve seen you take down. I’ll explain to Abbott about the French lessons. Everyone will get used to everyone soon enough. Consider this me ripping off the duct tape.”

We cross the threshold of her prior sanctuary to jump into the proverbial fire of the Carson clan. “It’s always duct tape with you, Cole. To any other man, it would just be a measly bandage.”

I don’t look back as I give her the God’s-honest truth. “Any other man wouldn’t be able to handle you.”

Hell, who am I kidding?

I don’t have a handle on her yet.

Chapter 12

I Look Fucking Good in a Tux

Cole

“I thought I told you it was a priority,” Nick Peterson growls through the phone. “Do I need to explain to you what that means? Why are plans not put into motion already, or better yet, carried out?”

It’s been a week since my boss marched his ass into my office and demanded I set up a kill order.

On an American.

A fucking American.

Not only

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