She hesitates even longer, so I grab it from her.
I smile a little when I see she managed to get into contacts, but failed to reach any. “Were you trying to call your boyfriend or your dad?” I ask, out of curiosity.
Her big gray eyes flash with anger and she strangely reminds me of Elise for a moment. Not every day Elise, but the little badass version of her who took down the mugger.
I don’t realize I’m smiling until she glares at me and demands scathingly, “You enjoy accosting women outside their homes? Does it make you feel like a big man?”
I laugh a little, shaking my head. “No, actually. I find it pretty distasteful.”
At that she frowns, losing her glare, clearly confused.
“Come on,” I say, taking her arm and leading her back inside. “Let’s go have a little chat.”
She doesn’t fight me on the way back to her apartment. Probably because she’s thinking she has the element of surprise, thinking I’m taking her into an empty apartment, when her boyfriend is actually inside. He’s unlikely to have a gun nearby, but he does have one, so if he happened to be out of sight and saw me first, it stands to reason he might be able to retrieve it and defend her.
I mean, he wouldn’t. But she doesn’t know who I am.
“Why are you doing this?” she asks me, outside the apartment door.
I don’t respond. Instead I lock my arm around her waist, pulling her back against me. A shuddering breath escapes her—fear—but I’m onto the next thing in my head. I don’t have time to reassure her.
“Open the door,” I murmur quietly.
“Please…” She’s having doubts now, since I’m holding her and I have my gun at the ready. “Are you here to hurt Ethan?”
“No.”
“Are you here to hurt me?”
“I don’t want to hurt either one of you,” I inform her lowly, near her ear. “But if you don’t open the goddamn door, that might change.”
Swallowing, she slowly reaches for the door knob. The door drifts open and I go to move inside, but before I can, she screams, “Ethan!”
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter. This girl is pissing me off. She’s in a relationship with her rapist; how can she possibly be this annoying? I was expecting pliant like Mia, not this bullshit.
Fortunately her attempt doesn’t amount to much, because while Ethan does come bounding to the door to see what’s wrong, he does not bring a weapon.
Then he sees me, and he clearly recognizes me, because his face loses several shades of pigment.
What reassures me a little is that while he does look horrified, he doesn’t look entirely surprised to see me.
His Adam’s apple bobs and his gaze drops to my hold on Willow, to the gun, already outfitted with a silencer.
“Please let her go.”
He keeps his tone calm, not wanting this to escalate. Not like his screamy girlfriend. I appreciate that.
I don’t respond, because I want to see what he says on his own.
“Please,” he repeats, holding both hands in front of him, showing me he’s unarmed. “Leave her out of this.”
“You know why I’m here?” I finally ask.
Swallowing again, Ethan nods.
This makes me happy. This makes me really fucking happy.
He doesn’t know why I’m here, but that he thinks he does means if I do survive the first mission, my second one is going to be easy. I like easy.
“Okay, this is good. As long as your girlfriend here doesn’t do anything dumb, I think we’re gonna be okay. Don’t try to pull any hero shit on me.”
“I’m not that stupid,” Ethan states.
“And I’m his fiancée, not his girlfriend,” Willow informs me, like it matters to me in the least.
“Well, you’re a pain in the ass, whatever you are,” I shoot back.
Ethan really wants my hands off his lady-friend, so he says once again, “Can we just—let’s step outside, we can talk, just the two of us.”
“I want to talk to Willow first,” I inform him.
“Willow knows nothing,” he states, firmly.
“What’s going on?” the girl asks, obviously out of the loop, and not appreciating it.
“Well, she does,” I say, ignoring her. “She knows Antonio Castellanos—and that’s what I need from her. What I need from you, we can get to later.”
Ethan scowls at me, not understanding.
So I explain—not so much for him, but for Antonio’s daughter. “I’m probably not surprising you with the news that Antonio tried to have Mateo Morelli killed—a few times. Most recently, he had Mateo’s pregnant fiancée shot in the stomach.
Willow suddenly gasps, horrified.
Ethan’s features tense, his jaw locking.
“Is she okay?” Willow asks, her meanness drained right out of her.
“She’s recovering,” I say. Since I’m still holding her against me, I feel her sag a little with relief. Now I’m starting to feel weird about this position, so I do finally let the girl go.