Page 112 of Luck of the Draw

His eyes did a strange drift, and he rubbed his forehead. He didn’t look like himself. His complexion was pallid. His face looked sharper, like he was dehydrated, or as though the distress he was obviously in had caused him to drop five pounds in the past few hours. This whole day had fucked him up. And the most shocking part of everything was him being that distressed over what happened to her, not pissed off that he’d unknowingly brought home a hooker. And not pissed off that she’d literally slapped him. Like, what the actual fuck?

“He belongs in jail, Skye,” Brennan finally said, settling his gaze on her face again. “That is like a crime against humanity.” His dark brows lifted high and emphatic, and he stabbed his thick index finger into the couch cushion. “In fact, the United Nations’ official definition of actual crimes against humanity includes all of that shit.” He raised his hand and flippantly twirled his forefinger in a circle, all the while rolling his eyes. “Congrats, Jesse. You’re a literal terrorist.”

For some inane reason, she laughed. Not in a humorous way. It was more like absurdity or insanity. Skye clasped her hand over her mouth. “Sorry, it’s not funny, but the way you said that was kind of funny.”

He gave a fleeting smile. “It’s not funny, but I’m happy to make you laugh.” He smiled again. Longer this time; warmer. “I love your laugh, Skye.”

Her face warmed with a smile that mirrored his, and they shared a long look in silence. In the quiet, Skye practiced the words in her mind.

I love you, Brennan. I love you,the words repeated,I love you. I love you.

There was still a breakdown. It didn’t fit somehow. It was like her understanding of feelings was a puzzle, and there was now a hole where love used to fit. The piece that used to be there was shaped and colored with every vile, repugnant thing she could remember and a bunch that she probably blocked out. The new piece that came from Brennan was nothing like that.

It had to be simpler than this. He already said it. She should just say it. Then maybe it would make sense.

“I love…” she started, full of gumption that retreated immediately, “…yourlaugh, Brennan.”

He chuckled heartily, as though giving her a delicious taste of the laugh she loved. “I noticed he called you Skye. Which made me wonder if you don’t like that. I could call you Isabel instead if you wanted.” A soft smile warmed his face. “It’s such a beautiful name.”

Strange shyness overtook her, and she lowered her chin. “You can call me whatever you want.”

“I want to call you whateveryouwant.”

A smile tugged at her mouth. “Skye’s fine.” She rested her hand on his knee as she absently pinched the fabric of his slacks between her fingertips. “I really thought you were going to kick me out of your house, Brennan.”

He had one arm folded casually behind his head, while the fingers on his other hand drummed the arm of the couch. “I know you did. But you’re still here, aren’t you, honey?”

She gave a weighted pause. “For now.”

“For now,” he echoed, tilting his head back and scrubbing his hair. “I know, for now. You know you can always come back later if you ever need to.”

“I know, but I don’t think that would be a good idea. I’m not the kind of person who can be around people like you.”

He squinted at her. “What kind of people are people like me?”

“Notpeople like me.” She raised one eyebrow at him. “I’m a very bad girl, Brennan.”

“You’re not though, darlin’.” He set his elbow on the arm of the couch and rested his cheek against his fist. “I know you think you are because of all the things you were forced to do, but you should know that you and I are not all that different.”

She raised both eyebrows incredulously. “Uhm…I don’t think you and I could be anymoredifferent.”

“We are different, but we’re not that different in terms of what makes you think you’re so bad.” He pressed his palm to his chest. “If you think that makes you bad, I’m just as bad as you. And I’ve done other things that are worse.”

“You’ve said that before, and I still don’t believe you.” She gestured at him to go on. “Please explain.”

“For starters,” he said, shifting to sit upright and facing her directly. “I’ve killed fifty-six people.” He cocked his head. “Have you ever killed anyone, Skye?”

Her jaw hung slightly. Surely he wasn’t serious. “You were in the military. That’s not the same as just killing people.”

“It’s not?” Brennan’s brows climbed high on his forehead. “A lot of times these guys were just meandering around a campsite, and I was hiding in the hills a few hundred yards away. Wearing camo. Being super-duper quiet. It washunting. I huntedpeople, honey.”

“You hunted bad guys.”

“Yeah, and they were bad according to whom?”

Skye opened her mouth to respond, but Brennan waved his hand. “Never mind. Nobody gets it. I was too emotional for that job, and that was my own stupid fault. Furthermore,” he said, leaning forward slightly and posturing as if he were about to tell her a big secret. “Do you know how many women I’ve had sex with?”

She smirked. “Uh…no.”

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