Tracer by Jason Dean

Author:Jason Dean
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Canelo
Published: 2021-08-15T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

‘Not that I’m complaining,’ Korso said, later, ‘but that kind of came out of left field.’

‘Left field?’ Natalie raised her head from his chest. With her body still pressed close to his, he could feel her heartbeat. ‘What does this mean?’

‘It’s an American baseball term. It means unexpected.’

‘Oh, I see. Yes. But I think it would be in your best interests not to make this more than it is. Or was.’

‘And what was this, exactly?’

‘A simple biological function between two consenting adults. Very pleasurable, I admit. But nothing more than that.’

Korso smiled in the darkness. She was right. From the shower to the bed, then back to the shower again, it had been very enjoyable. Not to mention draining. ‘I’m not about to ask for your hand, if that’s what worries you.’

‘I would hope not.’

‘But I am curious. What caused the change of heart?’

‘I’m not sure.’ She paused for a moment. ‘Maybe it was that brief exchange in that storage place, after you shot the steroid man.’

Korso frowned, trying to remember, but he couldn’t think of anything that stood out. ‘Really? What did I say?’

‘It’s more what you left out. When I said I didn’t need your help, you could have made me feel very foolish with a single well-chosen comment. But you chose to do the exact opposite instead.’

‘It’s in my nature to avoid the obvious.’ He ran his index finger along the faint scar that trailed down the side of her face.

‘You like this?’ she said, pressing his hand against the scar. ‘You kissed it many times over the past hour.’

‘One of my little eccentricities, I guess. But, yes, it’s definitely one of your more attractive features. I can’t be the first man who’s said that to you.’

‘You’re not. One man has… well, he told me it adds character to my face. He also offered to pay for cosmetic surgery if I wanted it removed. But I told him no. It’s a part of me, and I’ve warmed to it over time. It’s also a good reminder that we learn from our mistakes.’

‘If we’ve got any sense, we do. It looks old. A memento from your childhood?’

She just stared at him, slowly rubbing the back of his hand along her temple. He thought she was going to ignore the question entirely, but she finally said, ‘That depends on your definition of childhood. I was seventeen, so still a child in many ways. I was in basic training, and one of my instructors wanted me very badly. His specialty was hand-to-hand combat. He knew all the ways to kill a person, all the techniques. A walking encyclopedia of death. Tae kwon do, judo, karate, jiu jitsu, boxing, close-quarters knife fighting, and many others. He taught me much, but he was arrogant… and a sadist. He enjoyed suffering, more so when he was the cause of it. He was tough. As tough as they come.’

She rested her chin on his chest, looking at nothing. ‘I was young and

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