Page 97 of Paths
“Grady,” she whispers, and takes a step toward me, but this time I put my hand up to stop her.
“He died two days later in the hospital—the same hospital Gracie was recovering in. I was never charged. It was reported as self-defense. Gracie was evidence enough, all the questioning they did after the incident was only procedure. Detectives told me if I hadn’t done it, the cops who showed up would’ve wanted to. They made it clear I did nothing wrong.”
“You didn’t,” she softly agrees.
“I know.” I take a breath, wanting to finish more than anything, yet finishing could mean an outcome I dread. “Three months later I joined the Army. Besides football and protecting my sisters from our dad, I found something I was good at. But just weeks after I was recruited to Delta, they showed up on my doorstep with an offer. As soon as they laid it out for me, I signed and never looked back.”
She pulls her lip between her teeth and doesn’t say a word.
Damn that lip. I need to make her understand.
“Maya,” I pause and take a breath. This could close the door on our future for good, but I’ll do everything I can to put a wedge in it. I can’t lose her. “I was a paid assassin for a secret organization for ten years.”
That made her release her lip. Right before she takes another step back.
“Assassin?”
“Yes. Terrorists, insurgents, cartels. I worked solely overseas, never in the US.”
“You were paid to kill people?” Her eyes are big but I can’t tell what she’s thinking.
“Bad people,” I insist. “The worst.”
I see her chest rising and falling quickly, but she says nothing.
“And Maya,” I add. “I was good at it.”
She frowns deeper.
“Until I wasn’t.”
This surprises her. “What do you mean?”
“A while back, I got a call from Raine that Gracie wasn’t doing well. She was in her last year of college, quit going to classes, and she couldn’t sleep. She was hardly eating. The girls got her to a doctor. She’d fallen into depression. After we got her into therapy, we found out it wasn’t only because of our fucking father, but me killing him because of what he did to her. Her head was fucked up, and for some reason, she was feeling guilt.”
“But.” Her words come quick, and if possible, she defends me to me. “That wasn’t anyone’s fault. It sounds like he could’ve killed her if you hadn’t stepped in. You saved her.”
I soften my voice and take a step closer. “I know. But seeing Gracie have to deal with that? She was in a bad place and it fucked with me. Knowing what I did might’ve caused her to slip away from us? I didn’t recognize it then, but it messed with my head, too. It consumed me and I got careless. Crew and Asa saw it, tried to warn me, but I wouldn’t listen. That’s when Crew took it into his own hands and got us out.”
Her eyes grew big. “Crew and Asa do what you do?”
“Yeah, but not anymore,” I correct her. “We’re all retired and now train others to do what we did. That’s what’s happening on Crew’s property.”
“Oh. So, you’re retired from um … assassin-ing?” she asks, her face is screwed up as if it disgusts or perplexes her. I’m not sure which.
“Yeah. But I got antsy, thought I wasn’t ready to retire. Looking back, I needed something to focus on. Gracie was in therapy and getting better, but I still carried that guilt. I thought work would give me some focus. I went back and got myself in trouble. I’d be dead if Crew hadn’t been there to save my ass.”
“That’s when you were hurt?” she guesses.
“Yes.”
“That wasn’t very long ago,” she points out.
“Seems like another lifetime since I met you.”
She shakes her head and looks to the side out the big windows toward the back of the property, but she doesn’t appear to be actually looking at anything. She’s thinking and unfocused.
I don’t like it.
