Page 50 of Broken Mercy
I check him first. The youngest of Tallie’s siblings is still alive. His breathing is ragged, but his pulse is steady at least. He’ll wake up soon. I shove to my feet, cursing myself for being so fucking reckless and stupid. How the hell did he get the drop on me?
But I know how it happened. I was too busy walking myself through the implications of Sam’s notebook.
I pause before leaving the room. Davit stirs, grunting. If this were any other job under any other circumstance, I’d kill him. I have a mask on, but I can’t be sure he didn’t recognize me. When he wakes, everyone’s going to know there was an intruder in here, and Sam will quickly realize what’s missing.
Fuck, no other choice. I turn my back on Davit and hurry back the way I came. Killing my brother-in-law isn’t an option, even if it’s the right move from an operations-security standpoint. He’s a loose end now, and I don’t know what’ll happen from here.
But I won’t have his corpse on my conscience. I won’t do that to Tallie, even if it hurts me in the long run.
I slip out a window as someone starts yelling deep in the house, the notebook held securely against my chest, the cool night breeze sliding down my spine like the tongue of a hungry lizard.
CHAPTER 15
TALIN
Iwake to find my husband sleeping beside me.
I have to stifle a surge of panic. He wasn’t there when I went to sleep. Some dim memory of the night before takes shape in the early morning light: a body in the darkness, slipping into the sheets beside me.
It’s strange. I should make him stay in another room. But he’s barely been here and it hasn’t been an issue. I'm not even sure it’s a problem now. A part of me likes that he’s in bed, which is weird and sick. We have a business arrangement now, right? Whatever job he’s working on, he says that’ll give me freedom.
I’m not sure what that means anymore.
After I drag myself from bed, I brew coffee and make breakfast. I’m not normally an eggs-and-bacon kind of girl but what the hell. Brenden’s backpack is left leaning in the hallway near the front door, well-worn and black, anything reflective torn off. I’m tempted to look inside but manage to keep my hands to myself.
“That smells good.” He emerges as I’m finishing up, shirtless, wearing a pair of loose sweats. His hair’s messy in that early morning sexy way and my heart flutters seeing his muscular chest crossed and scissored by puckered, ugly scars.
“Hungry? I’ll get you a plate.”
He gets himself coffee. “I’d stay here more often if I knew this would be a part of our morning routine.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
“What’s the special occasion then?”
“I don’t know,” I admit, serving his meal at the table. “Maybe it was nice seeing my husband in bed for the first time in a while.”
“Didn’t think you’d like that.”
“Then why did you stay over?”
He considers me with that strange, enigmatic look of his. I can't ever read it and that bothers me. Annie’s never been difficult to see through. She’s got two emotions: flirty and annoyed. I get one almost exclusively. Sam’s more like Brenden, but even he’s clear as day to me sometimes, probably because we grew up together and I know his tells. And there’s Davit, who couldn’t lie to save his own life without turning pink and sputtering.
I miss knowing how to understand the people around me. It’s one thing, getting used to living in a different place. This house is nice but it’s strange. It’s not my home. New smells, new creaking noises at night. And it’s so damn quiet. I’m used to the noise of my siblings, especially from back when I was younger and there were more of them around.
This house though, it’s like I’m drifting around an empty wasteland most days.
Brenden doesn’t bother answering my question. He leans over his meal and eats in silence, occasionally looking over at me like he’s thinking something. I busy myself cleaning up, picking at my own plate and sipping my coffee, thinking about what the heck I’m going to do with myself together if my husband’s sticking around the house.
“Can I ask you something?” He looks over and doesn’t say no. “You taught your sister some thieving stuff, right?”
“Not too much.”
“But you know how to teach someone?”
He sits back, coffee in both hands. “In theory, I could.”
“Well, you and me are working together now, right?”
