Page 107 of Fury

“True. But I want to enjoy this with you, Ash. I want to offer you a special something.”

“I don’t want special somethings from you. I want this over.”

“It is over, officially.”

“Good.” I leaned back against the bench, clutching my magazine. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted his sly smile tinged with genuine excitement.

“As a thank you, I’d like to give you anything you want,” he said.

A thank you for an obligation? Hell no. Was he offering money? A shopping spree? Jewelry? A vacation? All the things he would give to Ciara so freely. I’d never accepted things from Turo. He’d tried from the very beginning, and I’d rejected the first, a super expensive new cell phone. Then I’d rejected money for a new sewing machine. He hadn’t tried again. I didn’t want any of that. I didn’t need any of that. What I needed I couldn’t have.

“That’s why I asked to see you,” I said.

“Ah, she does want something.” His voice was mellow and sensual, like a mouthful of fine brandy. “Anything but the Baptist’s head, my little Salome.”

“Oh, I would never ask that.”

“I know. That’s why I like you so much,” he whispered roughly.

I smoothed a hand down the cover of the magazine. “There is one thing.”

A slow smile warmed his face. I could feel its rays of heat over the side of my body. “Hmm. Tell me. Tell me what you need, and I’ll get it done for you. Personally.”

“I want a new identity. Name, social security number, history. All of it,” I replied.

He cleared his throat as he removed the cell phone from his ear, and holding it in his hands, flipped it over, rubbing a thumb over its matte black surface once, twice. “Leaving town again?”

“For good this time.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Necessary.”

“Understood. Done. What else?”

“Nothing else. There’s nothing.”

“There has to be something.”

Of course there was something. If only I could ask him to get me information on Finger. If only I could ask him…

But I couldn’t. I didn’t want anyone to know Finger and I had a connection, and I certainly didn’t want Turo to know that I was on intimate terms with a Flame of Hell. He’d use that to his advantage at some point. Whether they wore leather and colors or finely tailored suits and high-priced cologne, if men wanted things, they demanded them from you, then they were done.

Except one man. One man.

“Just this—” I slid a business card out from the magazine onto the bench in between us. “I’d like this first name if possible.”

I wanted my grandmother’s name. If I was to be reborn yet again, this time, I wanted the most beautiful name to me, to honor her, but also to keep a piece of her with me in this new life, a living souvenir. I had nothing of hers, no keepsake, no memento, no nothing, only memories and inspiration.

Turo casually slid the card into his pocket in one swift move, crossing his legs.

“May be difficult. But I’ll do my best. When do you need it?”

“How soon can you get it?”

“Two weeks, maybe three.”

“Let me know.” I tossed my empty coffee cup in the metal wastebasket to my left, tucked the magazine into my tote bag and stood up, adjusting my coat. “I have an appointment to get to.”

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