Last Breath (Hitman #2)(22)
Author: Jessica Clare

“So,” he asks, “we feeling better now?”

“Better,” I agree. And I am a little better. “Thank you.”

“How come you didn’t want to talk to Daisy?”

I give him a skeptical look. “So the plan is to get me drunk and quiz me?”

“Bingo,” he says, filling my glass again.

I down the newest shot and I’m definitely feeling floaty and relaxed. I notice Daniel has been holding the same full glass while I’ve been pounding them away. Sneaky man. A thought occurs to me and I stiffen. “You’re not getting me drunk so—”

Daniel’s eyes widen. “Christ, no. That fantasy’s a little ruined for me at the moment with that whole you-jumping-me-and-then-puking thing.”

I wince. “Bad call.”

“Yep,” he says flatly.

“Ugh. That was rapey of me.”

“Eh. It makes sense, in a fucked up sort of way. You’re desperate.” He refills my glass before I can ask. “When you’re desperate, you do crazy shit. Been there.”

I muse on his words, languid now that the alcohol is doing its magic. So sex with me was a fantasy, huh? If only he knew. “Probably for the best that the sex fantasy is ruined,” I confide to him. “I don’t know if you noticed, but I have a few issues.”

He snorts. “Darlin’, you are the poster child for issues.”

I giggle at that, unable to help myself. I should be insulted, but he’s right. I’m all fucked up in the head, and I acknowledge it. Then I sigh, looking down at my glass. “At least it’s just sex I’m messed up about. It’s not like I’m missing out.”

“Do tell.”

I peer over at him and am reminded he’s rather good-looking. He’s got that all-American boy thing going for him. I’d have totally crushed on him if I’d had a class with him back at college. “It’s not like it was great before, you know? Never had an orgasm with a guy. Pretty sure it’s bullshit.”

Daniel groans. “You are positively killing me here, Regan.”

“Why?”

He shakes his head. “Change of subject. Why were you short with Daisy?”

I lick the rim of my glass since he’s not refilling it. Maybe I should stay drunk for the next month. “Because I didn’t want to be mean to her.”

“Why would you be mean to her?”

“Because she got away,” I whisper. “She got away and left me. Everyone left me.” I swallow hard and put my glass down. Then I look at Daniel. “You’re not going to leave me, are you?”

“I’m not, sweetheart. You have my word on that.” He looks at me thoughtfully and then downs his drink. “But you need to tell me why you won’t go to the embassy. What’s there that scares you?”

“I saw a man,” I whisper. “Mr. Freeze’s bodyguard.”

“Mr. Freeze? Arnold Schwarzenegger? Like . . . from the shitty Batman movies?”

I shake my head and rub my arms, as if chilled. I’m not warm and toasty from the alcohol anymore. “The blond guy. The scary one. He buys girls. He bought me. He sent me to Rio to be ‘broken in.’ They can be as rough with me as they want, as long as they don’t mess up my face, wear condoms, and make sure I brush my teeth.”

“Your . . . teeth? Wear condoms?”

I rub a finger over my front teeth thoughtfully. “I think he has a hygiene fetish. He’d come and visit me at the brothel. Wouldn’t fuck me. Just put on plastic gloves before he touched me and looked me over. Asked them if they shaved me. Everything.” I shiver. “He scares me.”

“Maybe he’s a germophobe.”

I shake my head, remembering the bodyguard that was with him. “Everyone’s scared of him. Even Senhor Gomes.”

“So some rich guy has a fixation on you. Sends you to Gomes for what? Training? I guess that explains the use of condoms and good hygiene and why Gomes wants you back.” He doesn’t look happy with this news. “And you said you saw him at the embassy?”

“His bodyguard.” I shiver again, unable to help myself, and I realize for the first time that I’m sitting on the couch in nothing but my bra. Whoops.

Daniel notices my shivering and pulls the blanket around me, tucking it around me like he would a child. “Good to know. I’ll make a few calls and see if I can find out what’s going on. And then we’re going to have to move.”

“Move?” I blink at him, still drunk from the cachaça. “Why?”

“Because they’re going to know we’re in the area once they find out I killed Gomes’ little scout.” He says it so casually, like someone would comment on the weather. “We’re safe for now, but tonight we need to move on.”

I hug the blanket closer. “And you’ll take me with you?”

“I’m afraid you’re all mine until we figure out what the deal is.” He rubs his neck and looks agitated, but not at me. “It’s a goddamn mess, isn’t it?”

“Can I get a gun?”

He gives me a speculative look. “Do you promise to stop crying?”

“I will, if you get me a gun. Then I’ll shoot you if I get upset.”

For some reason, this makes him laugh. “I think we can manage that.”

Ten

Daniel

REGAN STILL LOOKS ON THE verge of tears. I miss the army because there’s only a short range of emotions that are acceptable in there, particularly within Delta Force. Mostly it’s cocksure bravado and weary acceptance. Regan’s feelings are hard for me to process because introspection is not encouraged in the army. I spent eight years suffocating my feelings so I could become an efficient killing machine. It was great training for being a hired assassin outside the military but had shit-all to do with helping wounded girls.

There’s no question in my mind that her sticking to me is going to mess her up more, but I didn’t bust my ass finding this girl to let her be stolen again. Taking a stab in the dark at what’s really got her worked up— and not in a good way—I tell her, “They would’ve come and searched for you, but Nick’s supposed to be dead. He can’t be running around down here in Rio because if his name leaks then he’s on the run again, along with Daisy. Plus Nick’s a shitty people person. He’d never have been able to get you out of Gomes’ place without a huge gunfight.”