Page 25 of Ripple Effect, Vol. 4

He shakes his head, and my heart bursts right there, shattering into tiny pieces. A familiar cold sensation fills my lungs, the one that creeps over me every time I’ve been discarded. “Well, I hope the plane ticket didn’t cost much because you just wasted the cash. I’m not getting on that plane. I’m not going to North Carolina. I’m. Not. Leaving you.”

“You are getting on that plane with no argument. Your flight leaves at midnight. I suggest you pack now.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“This was temporary. You knew from the beginning, Dylan. Don’t act like you didn’t.”

“We were temporary. In the beginning. We’re not now.” I slide my hands down my face, mostly to hide the mist of tears blurring his form. “Please don’t do this.”

“It’s already done. Once you’re down there, don’t try to contact me. You won’t find me. In return, I won’t try to contact you either.” He tosses a stack of cash onto the table—a stash of 100’s, as thick as a brick. “Twenty thousand in cash. Your services are no longer needed.”

“You’re a bastard. A cold, heartless bastard, Ripley.”

“A fact I never once denied.”

“I know why you’re doing this. Months of studying you, you think I haven’t picked up on how you operate? You’re protecting me. I get it. You don’t need to do that. I never asked you to do that.”

“You’re a fool if you think this has anything to do with you.”

“Will you stay in Chicago?” When he doesn’t answer, I blurt a mirthless laugh. “Of course. Your precious Emily is here,” I say, before I can stop myself. I hate the words that tumble from my mouth. They’re not me. I’m a survivor, and the woman talking right now is a spoiled brat who got too comfortable depending on someone.

“It isn’t about her either.”

How can his face be so stoic, so impassive? As if he doesn’t give a damn that he’s crushing me into nothing but dust beneath his boot.

“Then what is it about?” A cold hollow of despair sits in my chest when he shakes his head, refusing to explain. “Come with me. Walk away from everything. With me.”

“I can’t walk away. I have to finish the job.”

“Then I’ll stay with you. Make me what you are. Teach me. Let me help you. Fuck Dorian. If he comes for us, we’ll be ready.”

“I don’t work for Dorian. I work for someone, something much bigger than Dorian. And I can assure you, if I walk away, they will find me.”

“You’re not a hitman?”

A dark shadow of austerity creeps over his face. “What I am is much worse.”

“So you don’t work for Dorian or Enzo.” I shake my head. “How is that worse?”

“The men who hire me aren’t always good, Dylan. I’ve done things. Very bad things.”

I frown up at him. “You’re going after Dorian, aren’t you? You didn’t kill Rook because of me. You were after him from the beginning.” When he doesn’t answer, I shake my head. “What was I in all of this?”

His eyes carry all the emotion of an empty tomb. “A good distraction.”

I allow a bitter laugh. “Goddamn you’re good. You’ve not only become proficient at spilling a man’s guts, but you know just where to stab the heart so it bleeds out, don’t you?” I blink away the tears welling in my eyes. “How did I fail you?”

His brows pinch to a frown as his gaze falls from mine. “This isn’t about failure.”

“It is. And I’ll shoulder the failure, but I’m not walking away.” I’m furious at the tears that fall, but I’m clinging to a fragile thread in hopes that I can reach him somehow. If I can just hold on to it, I can hold on to him. “You can push me away, but I’m not walking. Not when my only chance at love is right here.”

“I already told you once. Love is a liability in my line of work. Love is death.” His jaw tics, eyes burning with something I can’t make out. Anger? Sadness? “Here’s the part where you finally walk away with the understanding that men like me can’t be saved by love. You might change our hearts, but you’ll never change our nature. Our demons are too much a part of us. We kill to live, but ultimately, we live to kill. And only a fool would stand in the way of that.”

“Say what you want, Ripley. Stab me if that makes you feel better. It won’t make me leave. See, girls like me? We’re used to that shit. We welcome that pain, because it’s all we know. Our hearts are cursed by resilience. Stab it a hundred times and it won’t break.” I shake my head, watching his beautiful face blur behind tears. “You don’t have to love me. Just don’t throw me away.”

This is how love has always been for me—elusive and unrequited.

I try to mentally detach myself from all of this, just as I had when my mother threw me away years ago. When every foster parent I’ve ever had threw me away because I wasn’t what he or she had hoped for. I can’t, though. I can’t detach myself from this—from him. And it’s killing me inside.