of the nervous energy coursing through me, I stood up from the couch and made my way back to the kitchen to grab us Cokes from the fridge. Then I ducked around the corner to my little laundry and tossed Steele's clothes in the dryer.
"So, will you tell me everything you got out of Hank?" I called out, trying to force my brain to focus on the more immediately important subject. "Or is that classified, and I’ll have to play stupid mind games with Archer to learn anything valuable?" I returned to the couch and handed him a Coke can, then opened my own.
"Fuck that," he replied, cocking his pierced brow at me. "If Arch wanted to keep all the info classified, he should have fucking stayed and done the dirty work himself."
I grinned. Yeah, Archer had burned one too many bridges lately. Steele, like Kody, was firmly on Team MK these days.
"You were right that someone has put a hit out on you. There's a website, to put it simply, where jobs can be listed. It's very anonymous and highly illegal—of course—but that's where your hit is listed. Hank took the job, but when he doesn't make contact within a set time frame, the job will be automatically relisted for someone else to take."
I let out a strangled sound, my chest tight. "So someone else will come after me then? Someone, possibly, better than Hank?"
Steele grimaced. "Yes. Until we can eliminate the source."
"You mean, find out who wants me dead and kill them?"
"Exactly. It'd be pointless just trying to shut down the listing. The technology behind those sites has some of the best cybersecurity in the world. No one other than the site creators themselves could ever hack it. Besides, there'd be nothing stopping whoever is responsible from just listing it again elsewhere." He sipped his drink and settled back against the couch, his free arm extended along the back behind me, not quite touching, but so very close.
I swallowed another mouthful of Coke and desperately tried to calm the shitstorm of emotions raging within me. Someone wanted me dead—enough that they were hiring professionals. But who? Why?
"Did he tell you how much money was on offer?" I asked. Why it mattered, I had no idea. Maybe I just wanted to understand what a person's life was worth.
Steele gave me a curious look. "I didn't ask, but I can find out from the listing."
I let out a long breath, letting it carry some of my anxiety with it. It would probably be a long freaking time before I could forget the fact that I'd killed someone. But... it didn't bother me as much as it should.
Steele was right. Hank would have killed me, just like the next guy would try. I didn't have to feel bad for putting my own life first.
"What else will you tell me?" I asked him in a tired voice, leaning my head on his arm along the back of the couch.
His fingers looped through a lock of my pink hair, and he tugged it gently. "Anything. Anything you want to know, I'll tell you. No more secrets, no more lies. I meant what I said earlier—I regret how everything went down, and I want to prove that to you."
I turned my face toward him, meeting his eyes. "Anything, huh? Will you tell me why Archer bought me? Why he kept it this huge secret and treated me like shit from the day we met? Why he fucking married me without my knowledge or consent?" Just asking those questions was raising my blood pressure again and getting me fired up.
"I could," Steele replied, his gaze steady. "But do you really want me to tell you? Or would you rather hear it from him?"
I held eye contact with him for a long time, wanting to kick back and accuse him of keeping Archer's secrets again. But I believed him. If I pushed, if I really wanted him to tell me everything, he would.
"Fucking hell," I groaned, rubbing my tired eyes and cursing out Archer in my brain. Steele knew me too damn well because I did want to hear it from the douche-canoe himself. I wanted to hear his reasoning directly from his lips. And I wanted to punch him in the fucking teeth for it because no reason could justify what he'd done.
Steele just gave an understanding chuckle, tightening his arm around me to scoot us closer together once more. "Ask me something else," he