With Every Breath (Slow Burn 4)

She was nearly finished with the plate that was prepared with enough food for three meals when she slowly put her fork down and then just as slowly lifted her eyes to his for the first time since his outburst.

“I want to know something,” she said in a voice that lacked anger, scorn or fear. Her gaze was inquisitive as she studied him. Like she was trying to get a read on him or figure out some big mystery.

Despite his decree that they wouldn’t be talking yet he returned her look. “What?”

“If you’re so concerned about my well-being then why the hell would you haul me here, without my stuff, leaving me defenseless and without the means to protect you or myself?”

His lips thinned and his eyes narrowed. He reined his temper in, the anger and frustration that had sparked the moment she started talking about protecting him again.

“First, your stuff is here,” he said, taking in the sudden arch of her eyebrows and the wrinkling of her forehead as her expression became perplexed. “Second and listen up, Eliza, because you need to get this and you need to get it now. You aren’t protecting me. You aren’t putting yourself in front of me. You aren’t taking any hits for me. I’m the one protecting you. I’m the one who’s going to keep you safe.”

For a moment he could swear he saw the tiniest flicker of relief and an almost imperceptible sag of her shoulders as if for that one second she pondered the veracity of his words and considered the thought of having his protection—and liking it. But it was gone too quickly for him to be sure and he was also aware that it could have been a major case of wishful thinking on his part. He hadn’t indulged in wishful thinking since he was four fucking years old and had wished for what every other normal kid had. Things like food on a regular basis and not week-old stale potato chips found in a trash can. Clothing with no stipulations. Not clothing that fit or seasonal clothing. Any clothing would have been welcome instead of having to resort to stealing clothing that even Goodwill stores or charity centers deemed unfit to hand out and ended up in their trash. And mostly parents who gave a fuck or no parents at all, and since he’d had no hope of his ever giving a fuck, he’d wished for the latter.

A brief flicker of amusement, unbidden and not pertinent to any of the shit he was dealing with right now, popped into his head. It was likely the remembrance of wishing for two things most others took for granted, food and clothing, that sparked his current thought.

Eliza thought he was an arrogant asshole and well, she wasn’t wrong, but he wasn’t the heartless bastard she likely thought. With her overactive imagination, she likely pictured him eating children or drinking their blood. He wondered what she’d think if she knew he had a number of pet charities, the majority of which provided for children with shit parents and shit lives the things he himself had been deprived of.

He brought himself back to the matter at hand and the fact that Eliza was still looking at him with fatigue-clouded confused eyes.

“Let me get this straight,” she said in a softer voice than she’d ever used with him in an actual conversation that didn’t include her vulnerable, falling apart or crying. “You hauled me out of the place I was staying in handcuffs. But you brought my weapons—”

“Your arsenal you mean,” he cut in dryly.

She held up her free hand, still staring at him with the same questing look.

“You brought my weapons. But you have no intention of letting me use them, thus leaving me—and you—defenseless. You state I’m the strongest woman you’ve ever known, yet in the next breath tell me I am never protecting you, I’ll never be in front of you, will never take anything for you and that you’ll be the one protecting me and all this while I’m once again handcuffed, unarmed, we’re the only two people in whatever place this is and you aren’t armed. Now given those facts, why on earth would I believe a single word you’re saying when nothing I’ve seen lends any credibility to your statements?”

She visibly braced. He saw her stiffen in preparation because she thought she’d pissed him off. But then she’d had enough practice at it so he supposed he couldn’t fault her errant assumption this time.

He’d done more talking in the last hour than he sometimes spoke for days and it was obvious nothing he was saying was getting through. He picked up his phone, punched a button and then said, “Leave two on point. The rest come to me and make sure you have everything you’re packing.”

Her look of confusion deepened and she wrinkled her nose as she stared even harder at him. She’d looked at him before but never like this. Like she was actually trying to figure him out. She thought she knew him or rather everything there was to know about him and in her mind he’d abruptly changed the rules.

Wade stood, opening the jacket he wore that had Kevlar inserts between the outer layer and the lining. It wasn’t the full protection a vest offered—it was thinner—but it would stop most bullets from mid- to long-range distance and it wasn’t obvious he was protected.

As he opened it wider, the two pistols holstered on either side of his ribs where the jacket provided the most disguise came into view. He turned, lifting the jacket to expose a third gun in the band of his pants that had a built-in sleeve to fit the pistol. On each hip, two blades rested in tandem, one larger with a wicked serrated edge designed to inflict maximum damage and the other a smaller, lightweight knife that could be thrown with pinpoint accuracy and slice straight through a man’s chest—or any other vital area—or could be used in close combat because its size and sleek design made it easy to be invisible in the right situation.

He hiked his leg up on his abandoned chair and pulled up his pant leg to reveal two more handguns lining the inside of his leg between his ankle and his knee and then he repeated the process to show her matching guns on his other leg.

His pants were loose fitting and designed to look as if they had no pockets. Instead they had flaps that opened from knee to hip and he did so to reveal a variety of explosives that would have to impress even Eliza since his was shit no one outside of the military and no one inside without top secret clearance even knew about much less could get their hands on.

When he was finished with his demonstration, the front door opened and he turned, motioning to the men filing in and he noticed Eliza’s eyes widen as she took them in. Yeah, she was impressed. She was also realizing she was in no way dealing with the man she thought she was dealing with.