The Messenger (Professionals 3) - Page 60

“I do know that. I like TV. you should try it sometime.”

“Maybe I will.”

Maybe I would enjoy that too.

Who knew?

“Alright, so the guest bathroom is at the end of the hall. Everything you might need is in there. Feel free to spread your stuff out. I have my own bathroom. I will let you settle in. I’ll be downstairs if you want some company.”

“Kai,” I called a bit desperately as he turned and was gone before I could even draw a breath.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. Again.”

“I’m happy to have you here, Jules.” There was so much sincerity in his tone it was impossible to think he was just throwing out pleasantries.

And there it was again.

The chest-tightening thing.

And I was starting to maybe think I had an idea what it meant.

I moved around, settling in, showering, glad to find my hands were healed over, a bit painful to the touch if I tried to grip anything too hard, but tolerable. There was nothing to be done about my black eyes and the band of bruises around my neck, but I took the time to dry and style my hair, being careful to avoid the slowly scabbing over cut on my skull.

I threw on a pair of slacks and a simple camisole, happy to feel a bit more like myself, and then headed downstairs to find Kai lounging on the couch watching some crime procedural, feet kicked up on the coffee table. But no shoes, just socks.

“Wanna join me?” he asked. “We can order in lunch in a bit.”

“You don’t need to check into work?”

“They’ll be fine without me. Miller thinks I am with Bellamy. Getting wasted and eloped in Vegas or something.”

“Everyone has wild stories about him,” I observed as I sat down on the other couch.

“He’s a character.”

“He sounds fun and light-hearted.”

“And you can’t figure out why he would do what he does for a living.”

“Exactly.”

“Bellamy was in the military with the guys. Took some personality tests. Turned out he had, I dunno, something in him that the big guys thought they could bend and warp and use. So he turned special ops. Black ops. I think… when you are ordered to kill enough, you get desensitized to it. He had a hard time after he was brought home. Had these dark spells that he couldn’t control. Until he learned that going back to his old ways-”

“Killing people,” I specified.

“Yes. Once he started doing that, he kept that darkness at bay. Most of the time, it only comes up when he has a job.”

“Quin really has the need for someone like him on the team?”

Kai was quiet for a moment, looking out the window at the blinding sun. “You meet a lot of people on this job,” he started, voice odd, distant. “Some are innocents trapped in bad situations. Some aren’t so innocent, but decent people. But all the clients almost inevitably got on the bad side of some truly despicable people. The kind who enjoy torture and rape, who get off on hurting others in new and inventive ways. The kind of people the world would be a better place without. In those jobs, instead of striking deals with devils, I think Quin would like to be a part of the greater good.”

I mulled on that for a long moment before blurting out the first thing on my mind. “I believe in the death penalty,” I declared, making Kai’s face turn to me, brows together. “That is an unpopular opinion in my friend group. My sister looks hurt if I so much as suggest it. And I think it is used a little too often, but sometimes, it is necessary. Some people are warped. There is no cure for that kind of sick. They don’t belong on the streets among decent people. Child molesters and serial rapists, people who get off on killing. I believe they deserve the death penalty. So I get what you’re saying. And blaming Bellamy would be like blaming the doctor who inserts the lethal injection in a way.”

“Just a solid piece of advice. If you ever hang out with Bellamy, don’t look away from your drink.”

I smiled at that. “Got it.”

So we watched some police shows, mutually scoffing over missed leads, had lunch. While sitting in front of the TV. Kai went out for supplies, then we had our game night.

“Damnit!” I hissed, watching as Kai’s score beat mine. We were doing best out of five. And he had beaten me three of those times now.

He got to pick dinner.

“Go easy on me,” I pleaded, pressing a hand on my stomach.

“You had a salad for lunch. And you will eat your body weight in tacos for dinner. It’s called balance.”

Because this was Kai’s house, Kai’s life, Kai’s everything, I felt like I could do things differently; I could take a break from my life, from the limitations of it.

Tags: Jessica Gadziala Professionals Billionaire Romance
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