His right hand moved up into my hair and he twisted it around his fist, angling my head as he saw fit. His tongue slipped into my mouth and I gripped him tightly with my legs as sparks rained down on us.
I’d used him as a puppet back at the restaurant. Now, it was my turn to dance on the strings. I deserved it, and given the outcome, I would take that punishment again and again.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been kissed like this. Hell, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been kissed, period. What we were doing had moved beyond that and into something deeper.
More, I silently begged as Jake tilted my face up. He squeezed my jaw and brought his mouth down roughly against mine again in response.
His tongue tasted like the whiskey he’d had at dinner—caramel and honey with hints of spice. It reminded me of the clove cigarettes Aaris and I used to smoke in high school when we’d sneak out.
“You’re the best thing I’ve ever written,” I mumbled against his lips.
He pulled back abruptly and stared at me with narrowed eyes. “Where is it?” he panted.
I reluctantly removed my hands from the nape of his neck and pointed. “My bedroom? That way.”
There were no traces of humor on his face as he lowered me down to the ground and stepped away. I gripped the side of my desk to keep myself from melting into the carpet. “Jake?”
He ran a hand down his face. “The notebook. Where’s the notebook?”
I frowned. “In my purse?”
“Jesus,” he laughed to himself. “I almost thought this was real.”
I shakily held onto the desk and wall for support before gasping, “What the hell? It felt real!”
Instead of crossing the room to take me in his arms before proclaiming, ‘our love was always real;’ Jake pushed his lips into a pout and moved even farther away. “Did it? Isn’t that how you wrote it?”
I slid down the wall and onto the carpet as my legs gave up the fight. “I’m confused—”
“Are you? Because that makes two of us. Why won’t you just confess,” he snapped before shoving his hands into the pockets of his slacks.
My eyes followed his hands down to the evidence of our encounter. His friend had not only come out to play but brought along the entire playground for good measure.
Jake cleared his throat and I blinked slowly before looking back up. “I don’t understand why you’re mad. Did I do something wrong?”
My breath came in short gasps and I closed my eyes, trying to commit every detail to memory. I wanted to remember how he kissed me for the rest of my life. I needed something to hold on to when I was old and gray, wasting away in a nursing home.
When the nurses would ask me, “Hayden, do you remember this little girl? She’s your great-granddaughter,” I would shake my head and say, “Don’t know her, but I can tell you how it felt to have Detective Jake Hopkins’ tongue in my mouth.”
Jake chuckled and my face heated with the thought that he could suddenly read my mind.
“You’re a real piece of work, aren’t ya? Hand it over.”
“Excuse me,” I sputtered. “Hand over what?”
“The notebook. I know you’ve got it. How else would you explain— whatever the fuck that was?”
“You think I wrote this?” My voice cracked. “I didn’t, I swear!”
The scene that was playing out in my head fought with the one in front of me, leaving my head swimming. I’d gotten pretty good at predicting where a story would go once I envisioned it, but he’d gone and made it impossible.
Jake stripped off his suit jacket and wadded it into a ball before tossing it onto the couch. “You think I’d suddenly forget what happened at dinner? Have you lost your damn mind?”
I jumped up. “You kissed me back!”
“Yes, because you wrote it,” he explained slowly.
I furiously chewed at my swollen lips and ran my fingers over my mantra necklace, but I wasn’t calm or grounded… or any of the other bullshit I was supposed to channel.
I slipped my heels back on and snagged my purse from the floor beside the couch.
“Where are you going?” Jake took a tentative step toward me and then stopped, as if I was going to produce my magical notebook and force him to kiss me again.
I sighed, “I’m leaving, Jake. What does it look like?”
“You can’t just leave. There’s someone out there who wants you dead.”
I nodded. “Given the choice between you and the homicidal fan, I’ll take my chances with the one out there.”
He held out a hand. “Wait. Just let me think.”
“There’s nothing to think about. I didn’t write it. Trust me, if I had, you would’ve known.”
I ticked a point off on my finger. “For starters, I would’ve written something better than dead fish lips and a partner who didn’t put an ounce of effort into it.”
That was enough to break the invisible barrier he’d put up between us and he stomped over to where I stood. “No effort? You enjoyed it, you did the thing with your legs—” He swallowed hard.
I shook my head. “No. No, I didn’t.”
I left him standing in my living room, looking like a child who’d just been told that Santa wasn’t real. The wind whipped my already tangled hair into my face as I made my way downstairs; reminding me of Jake’s massive hands twisting and pulling.
A whimper escaped and I pressed a hand to my throat to stop the ache. I wasn’t going to cry again. I crossed the courtyard and climbed another four flights before reaching her door.
I didn’t care if she was still mad. We were going to stay up and work this out and maybe, just maybe, I’d work out a way to finish Jake’s story without ever having to see him again.
Sixteen
I knocked on the door and wrapped my arms around myself. “C’mon, Aaris. Just let me in. It’s freezing out here.”
I frowned at the sound of heavy footsteps coming from inside the apartment and again when the door was pulled open.
“Hayden,” he said respectfully before tucking the gun back into his waistband. I tried not to gawk at the fact that he was shirtless. The muscles on his body made that an impossible task; they were practically screaming, look at us!
In spite of my confusion, I managed a shaky laugh. “Max. Is Aaris here?”
He nodded. “She’s in the shower.” His hair was messy, and I tried to decide whether it was from sleep or something else.
I waited patiently for him to push the door open and invite me in. When that didn’t happen, I tried again. “May I come in? I need to talk to her.”
“Oh. Sure. Come in. Do you like coffee? I was just making a pot.”
I stepped into the warmth of her living room and checked my watch. “It’s two-thirty, Max. Isn’t that a little early for coffee?” I smiled up at him and half a second later he repeated the gesture.
Assassins were odd creatures.
“I like coffee,” he stated matter-of-factly before turning away. Any questions as to why his hair was wild were answered by the red scratches running the length of his back.
“Me too,” I mumbled. “So, how long have you been here?”
Max checked his watch as the coffee maker fired up. “Twenty-four hours and sixteen minutes.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Really? So, you took her home from the… bar?”
He sat down on the arm of the overstuffed chair near the fireplace, watching me curiously. “No. I followed her home.”
Did she know that?
I nodded, keeping the question to myself. For now. “I see. I’m just going to get that coffee and leave you to it, then.”
“You should reconsider your footwear.”
I turned around. “What?”
“Under-pronation can lead to ankle sprains or breaks if you’re not careful.”
“What are you—an assassin and a foot fortune teller?” I snorted at my own joke. Max remained stone-faced.
“Well, it’s
apparent that you’re a supinator by the way your shoes lean to the left. See how they’re worn down more on the outside? The force of impact is concentrated along the edge there, putting more stress on your foot.”
“What else can you tell about me just by looking?” I challenged him.
Max narrowed his eyes and looked me over. I sat perfectly still, afraid to move and break his concentration. “You were crying as recently as two hours ago. Your lips are swollen, and the surrounding skin is irritated, indicating recent intimacy… or a severe allergic reaction. The way the pulse just jumped in your throat tells me that it’s the first one.”
He steepled his hands under his chin. “The person you were intimate with is the reason you’re here now. You had a fight, and it led you here. How am I doing so far?”
“Holy shit,” I exclaimed reverently. “Max, that’s amazing! You should be working with the FBI or writing horoscopes! How did you know?”
“Most of it I picked up on when you were at the door. Jake filled in the rest; said you two got into it and he thought you’d be coming here,” he said with a grin.
So, he did have a sense of humor.
I groaned and sank back down on the couch. “Seriously? I thought you were like a psychic or something. What did he say?”
“Exactly what I just told you; you two got into—”
“Okay… I’m clean. You wanna dirty me up again?” Aaris sang from the bedroom.
Max’s eyes widened. “That might be a problem. You’ve got company.”
She appeared in the doorway, wrapped in the comforter. Her damp hair was pulled back into a French braid and her cheeks were flushed, making her look younger. “Hayden? What are you doing here?”
I gave a small wave. “Hey, I didn’t mean to interrupt—” My words broke off in a sob. “I, I just—”
She took a couple of steps and then paused. “Sweetie, I want to hug you, I do, but I’m not quite decent. Can you hold that thought for like thirty seconds?”
Max patted me roughly on the back, like a choking victim in need of aid. “You came over because you feel badly about the things you said last night and you want to make things right. You also need advice. You have feelings for Jake and that… complicates things.”
“Max, can you not with the weird Long Island Medium shit? I don’t have feelings for Jake and, if Aaris bothered checking her phone, she would know that I’ve been trying to reach her all day.”
“I don’t get that reference,” he deadpanned. When he didn’t crack a smile, I realized that he wasn’t joking.
I sighed, “Of course you don’t. Just… stop trying to read my mind. Yes, I came to apologize. No, I don’t have feelings for Jake.”
“Okay, what’d I miss?” Aaris had swapped the comforter out for a pair of baggy sweats and I didn’t miss the hungry look in Max’s eyes as he watched her stalk toward us.
Someone in this room had caught feelings, but it absolutely was not me.
“Hayden fell for her target.”
I glared at Max. “I just finished telling you that I didn’t have feelings for him. It’s like you’re not even listening.”
Aaris sank down beside me on the sofa. “Who, Jake? Sweetie, we already knew that. That’s why you’re here?”
I shook my head in frustration. “No! I mean, partly. God, will you two just give me a second to collect my thoughts?”
“No feelings, no regrets,” Max stated flatly as he walked into the kitchen. “Coffee?”
Aaris waved him off. “What happened?”
I took off my glasses and rubbed my eyes. “I don’t know. One minute we were ready to kill each other and then he was kissing me. Or maybe I kissed him. I can’t even remember, but it’s over and we’re back to hating each other again. Hooray!”
Tears spilled over onto my cheeks and I swiped angrily at them. “But, that’s not why I’m here. What’s going on with you two?”
She smiled and glanced toward the kitchen before lowering her voice. “I’m surprised you don’t know already. Didn’t you help orchestrate the entire thing?”
I frowned. “What I said at the club was wrong and I shouldn’t have opened my mouth. I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you; I was just feeling frustrated by Jake and being at the club and—”
“Then you found me. Let me know what a dick I’d been.” Max recited the words much like a newscaster reading from a teleprompter.
“I, um, I…” He gave me a look that convinced me to shut up and nod instead. “Yes. Yes, all that happened. Really gave him an earful about leaving and whatnot.”
You know, in between him kicking a guy’s ass for touching you.
Aaris cocked her head to the side. “None of that happened, did it?”
Max handed her a steaming mug of black coffee. “It did. She was inebriated. Drink up. It’ll get cold.”
I leaned down, unable to contain my laughter for a moment longer. The assassin had lied to Aaris. In spite of his social ineptness, he’d somehow managed to bridge mine and Aaris’ relationship.
He turned to me. “Hayden, I’m going to get your coffee and then we’ll discuss your problem.”
“Oh, no, that’s really not necessary. I can come back when you’re not here or, you know, never.”
Max continued into the kitchen and Aaris shrugged. “He’s a little different but really nice.”
“Aaris, David Bowie in Labyrinth was different. Max is… well, Max is something else entirely.”
“I heard that,” he called from the kitchen.
I cringed. “He’s totally going to poison my coffee and then you’ll have to finish Jake’s book for me. Good luck with that.”
Max handed me a mug. “If you hadn’t let your emotions get in the way, you wouldn’t be rewriting Jake’s book. Oh, and if I was going to kill you, you wouldn’t see it coming.”
“Duly noted.” I took a hesitant sip of coffee, recoiling at the bitterness. “Is there creamer or are we being forced to drink it like savages?”
“He’s right,” Aaris chimed in as she took our mugs back to the kitchen. “You wrote One in the Chamber to make a publisher happy. What could Jake’s story have been if you’d written for yourself?”
Max raised his eyebrows. “Don’t fall for your target. Rule number one: stay professional. In this case, it’s already too late for you, so now it’s time for a little UW.” At my blank expression, he added, “Unconventional warfare.”
“Right. Unconventional warfare. That’s exactly what I was thinking. Conventional warfare just won’t do in this, um, situation.”
“Sweetie, just say you have no idea what he’s talking about.” She handed me my coffee.
“How far are you willing to go to get your story, Hayden? There’s sabotage. Hit and run. Ambush. Pick your poison—poison is also a good strategy; a bit overdone with women though.”
“Wait. You’re suggesting I kill Jake?”
Max nodded. “Pencil through the ear or eye. You’re a writer; it’d be believable. I would suggest something less messy, but let’s keep it on the table.”
I held up my hand to stop him. “Why am I killing Jake again?”
“Because he’s forcing you to change the ending to your last book? We don’t negotiate with terrorists.”
And, apparently, that was the only explanation I was getting.
“Aren’t you guys friends, Max?” Aaris asked with a yawn.
“Friends? He paid me for a job and I’m doing it. Whether he lives or dies is not my concern. I got my money.”
We both stared at him in horror.
“You can’t just kill someone who brought you here!” I exclaimed. “What about the bro code or whatever the hell you guys call it?”
“Bro code? Is this like the medium islands you were talking about earlier?”
Not only was he an assassin, he was a mercenary as well.
“So, you’re saying if I offered you money to kill Jake…” I let my voice trail off, waiting for a response.
/>
“Depending on the amount, I’d take it. What? What’s wrong with that?”
“Okay, Mr. Roboto. I will keep your offer in mind, but in the meantime, I need to get back to my apartment. I’ve got to work in a few hours.” I drained my coffee mug and carried it to the sink.
“I’m surprised you haven’t asked the most pressing question,” Max noted dryly.
I forced a laugh. “And what’s that? How you’d kill him?”
His mouth turned up in an amused smile. “No. How Jake feels about you.”
Aaris bounced up and down on the couch. “Oh, yes. How does Mr. Hopkins feel?”
Max moved over to the couch next to her. “Well…”
I held my breath as I waited for him to finish his sentence. Not that it mattered because Jake was fictional and I was clinically sane. No, I was just holding my breath out of curiosity.
“Well…” I snapped. “Sometime today, Max.”
It didn’t change a thing.
“Let’s just say that he broke protocol pretty early on—”
Aaris interjected, “Max, no. None of your random bodyguard jargon. Tell us in normal terms. Please.”
He nodded. “Okay. Jake developed some, unprofessional feelings for Hayden. Is that better?”
I crossed my arms over my chest and rolled my eyes. “Really? That was your big revelation? I already know that he wants to murder me. He even told me how he’d do it.”
Max’s eyes lit up. “He did? How? Was it strangulation?”
Aaris patted his arm. “That’s not really something you should get excited over… or ask about… ever.”
I straightened with a sigh. “I’m gonna head home now. Thanks for letting me interrupt your sexathon for a little bit.”
I turned away before their eyes went heavy-lidded, like two people who were going to have each other’s clothes off before the door had completely closed.
Max’s voice stopped me at the door. “I’m not going to lie and say he loves you, mainly because I don’t know that he’s capable of it, but Jake cares a lot about you and that makes you dangerous.”
Protagonized Page 20