The Hitman She Couldn't Forget by Betty Banks

Author:Betty Banks [Banks, Betty]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Independent
Published: 2019-12-01T16:00:00+00:00

26

Nova

PRESENT DAY

The fingertips brushing against my cheek feel invasive. Unfamiliar. Just like the scent of the throw wrapped around me and the cushion I’m resting my head against.

My eyes snap open and are greeted with nothing but darkness.

But my name cuts through the void like a blunt knife; sharp, but not sharp enough to hurt me.

“Nova,” Arturo murmurs, the palm of his hand cupping around my jawline. “You’ll get a stiff neck sleeping on the couch. I’m going to take you upstairs, okay?”

Instinctively, my hands reach out and curl around his bicep. I’m at a loss as to where I am and why. “Shh,” he whispers, like he can read my mind. “We’re in a cabin in the mountains. I didn’t want to wake you up in the car. Come on, I’ll carry you.”

Suddenly the soft cushions are replaced with strong arms and I’m lifted six feet in the air. It’s hard to stop myself resting my head against his chest as he navigates through the darkness. I try to tell myself it’s because of the soft cashmere fabric, not the soothing beating of his heart underneath it. But I cling on a little tighter when we start climbing the stairs; he holds me a little tighter, too.

It feels like I’m plunged into coldness once my body connects with a mattress and I’m away from the warmth of his chest. “Goodnight, Nova,” he whispers, and I can hear his footsteps creeping across floorboards, heading in the other direction.

“Where are you going?” I ask.

“To sleep on the couch.”

“Don’t.” I say. Darkness is like liquor. It gives people the courage to do what they wouldn’t, say what they shouldn’t. It’s like a mask to hide behind, making you braver than you really are. Then you know you should be. “Stay with me.”

I’m left hanging in the balance, holding my breath as the night obscures my vision. It feels like forever until those footsteps get closer, and the left-side of the bed sinks.

“Are you sure, Nova?”

“Positive,” I say out into the darkness, “don’t go.”

I know I wouldn’t be asking him to stay in the cold light of day. Not only because I already feel more than indebted to him, but because I know it’s wrong. All I’d have to do is reach out a couple of inches and touch the cold, metal band on his ring finger to confirm this.

When he next speaks, I realize how close his mouth is to my ear. “Why don’t you want me to go, Nova?”

My name rolls so effortlessly off of his tongue, I know that he’s uttered it a million times before. To me, to himself. It sounds natural, like it’s a part of his everyday vocabulary.

And just like liquor, darkness loosens your lips and helps the truth slip out. “Because you make me feel safe.”

My body melts into the soft springs of the mattress when his fingertips brush over my face. I couldn’t see them coming, but now they’re gently caressing my cheekbone and corner of my lip, I can’t imagine what it felt like before his touch.

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