Break Me

She creeps out of the bathroom in just a towel with her hair dripping wet and water beading on her body. I swear today is a battle of wills, and I’m going to fucking lose.

“Show me,” she whispers.

I move to the nightstand and pull out the Glock, placing it in her small hand with my large hand covering hers. Taking her other hand, I guide her to hold the gun properly and stand with her legs shoulder-width apart for optimum direction in her shot. I show her how to slide off the safety, how to aim, and then I explain how to pull the trigger.

“Don’t waste time. If you are in a position you need to use this for any reason, disable your guy and get the fuck out. Don’t hesitate.”

Tears fill her eyes as she nods. I let go, and she holds the weapon firmly in her hands.

“Why do you have a gun living here?” she asks and I can see the fear start to creep up.

“Do not be afraid here, angel. I have it because I fight,” I answer her honestly. “The night in the hospital, it’s an underground thing. No one can know where, who, and the how, so don’t ask me.” Her eyes grow wide. I wish I had more time to explain. “Look, I have aggression and it’s a safe way to get it out.”

Still holding the gun firmly, she looks to me. “I wouldn’t call it safe with the way you came in,” she whispers, and I revel in her concern for me.

“Sometimes it’s not. I need it, Lo. I don’t have time to explain it. There is a time for Jason to be Jason and sometimes I have to release the cobra to get the snakes out of my system. It will not ever touch you. I give you my word, the life I lead as a fighter will not ever touch you.”

She studies me and the gun before looking at me firmly. “You can go now. I’ll get ready and be on my way.”

I watch as she slides the safety back on and secures the gun into its place. With a quick kiss to her forehead, I step away before I can’t stop myself and end up taking her on the bed, leaving us both needing another shower.

Work is a pain in my ass, but it’s a means to an end. I get paid, and I get paid fucking well to be a paper-pushing motherfucker. The more I try to work, though, the more my mind goes over the people Lorraine follows as Heidi.

I tried to do an Internet search for disorders of people assuming someone else’s persona. However, I couldn’t figure out the psychobabble and realized I should have paid better attention in Psych 101. I don’t know what to do for her. I feel helpless, and if I’m feeling that way, I can only imagine how she feels.

She was there and witnessed my father’s way of dealing with me firsthand. She knows my past without me telling her—well, most of it. I have warned her I’m a monster. She can’t seem to stay away as much as I can’t seem to hold back, though. Can two totally fucked-up people find a way to make something good out of some seriously bad pasts?

I don’t have an answer. After Missy, I am afraid that one experience doesn’t bode well for my angel eyes and me.

I also don’t have any more clues to the murder of her family than she does. The police called it an invasion. In their findings, they felt it was a random thing, yet Lo goes out at night as Hi and follows these city officials . . . for what?

My mind goes over and over following her. The one thing all of those people have in common is my father. Would he be capable of putting a hit on the Boschs? There isn’t a single doubt in my mind that he could and would without hesitation if he felt threatened.

I just don’t see what her family has to do with him. I don’t see where her father could have had enough blackmail on my family to even pose such a threat. The pieces to the puzzle don’t fit. The only thing that replays solidly in my mind is, if I find out my father had something to do with it, I will kill him.

He can beat on me all he wants. He can tear me limb from limb. He can tell me I’m not good enough, that I will never be anything—I’m used to all of his shit anyway. But I won’t let him get away with destroying a good family like Lo had. I won’t stand for it, and he will pay.

My phone rings, bringing me out of my thoughts. I see who it is, and rather than avoid her any longer, I slide to answer.