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used to be an amazing cook and that she learned everything from the woman. She’s too old to take care of herself now, so Lucy had to pick up the recipe book and keep the wheels turning. Here at the safe house, she’s brought some of the best recipes with her.

Tonight, we make honey-baked salmon, baked green beans, and a side salad with a sesame seed dressing. I don’t say anything, but I’m kind of embarrassed that I’ve never had anything this nice. Before Lucy, I ate to stay alive. I didn’t find anything particularly special about dinner. A slab of steak and something green, all seasoned lightly, was enough to get me through the evening. But now that she’s introduced me to newer ingredients and flavors, I might be hooked.

“That’s probably gonna be super spicy,” she notes, glancing at the crushed red pepper I sprinkle on my salmon filet.

“I like spicy,” I smirk.

“Fair enough. Don’t let me yuck your yum.” Once we’re finished seasoning everything, she puts it in the oven and gets started on mixing the drinks. Since we’ve been here three weeks, she decided that she wanted to do something special and make cocktails for us. Same as my food, I usually drink liquor straight. I don’t need any frilly things to make it tolerable. I’m not drinking for flavor, after all.

But again, I relent, letting her have her way. It seems to be something that makes her happy, and I’m happy to provide. She’s good at this anyway. As she flits around the kitchen preparing the drinks, I sit back in my chair and nurse my glass of water. It’s a big mistake, but I know that I could get used to this.

Unfortunately, after tomorrow, there won’t be this anymore.

“I’m thinking we’ll get started at dawn,” I say. She continues to mix a pitcher of juice and alcohol when she turns to look at me.

“What do you mean?”

“I looked over everything, and tomorrow morning, we’ll head out to get Konstantin.”

A look of anticipation crosses her face. Her eyes light up excitedly. “Really?”

“Really.”

I went over everything we’d need, and we have it. All the supplies are packed up and ready to go, I know exactly where Konstantin will be tomorrow, and soon, this will all be over. It’s a blessing and a curse. Spending another day here only to never see Lucy again sounds unbearable, but I know it’s for the best.

My biggest mistake was not pawning her off weeks ago. If I had, I could’ve saved her plenty of heartbreak after this is all over. Konstantin would be dead and I’d be back at the warehouse, taking another assignment from Mr. X. She’d be off somewhere working on her book and taking care of her grandmother. Our lives would be normal. Being able to get back to my normal self is why it’s a blessing.

It’s a curse because I know that Lucy has wormed her way into my heart. It almost makes me sick to say this, because it goes against everything I told myself to do. Never catch feelings for someone. Never develop a bond. Having bonds makes you weaker. It makes it easier for enemies to take advantage of your weakness. And in this line of business, the people you care about are always in danger.

I’m a fucking fool for letting it go this far, so now I have to fix it.

I can already see how mad she’ll be when I tell her that we can’t do this anymore. That defiant look will take over her face, and she’ll probably curse me out the same way she did at the diner. I’ll deserve it, too. I fucked up by letting her get close to me only to push her away at the end. It’s a lesson I’ll keep in mind the next time I ever decide not to work solo on an assignment like this.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this, Roman,” she sighs, placing ice cubes into the pitcher. “Can I be there when you do it?”

“Of course,” I say. “But I don’t want you doing anything until I grab him. I don’t need you in danger. When I get him tied up at the location, you can be there to watch.”

Is it sick to say that it will be a bonding moment for us? I know how desperate she is to see Abram Konstantin pay for what he did to his family, and I want to help her find that momentary peace. If I had someone to help me get my uncles, it would’ve gone much smoother.

“Good,” she says, smiling softly. Even when she’s thinking about murder, the woman is adorable. I don’t know how she does it. I don’t want her to stop, either.

While we eat, she tells me more about her book and all the progress she’s made. She’s just wrapping up act two, and the heroine of the story is facing her toughest battle yet. I don’t have a clue what she’s talking about, but I’m almost tempted to grab one of the legal pads and read over it. She spends hours at a time writing on those things. Her creativity is something else that I enjoy about her.

Where most people struggle to see the bigger picture, Lucy has no trouble with it. When she writes, she looks outside of just what’s happening right then. She tells me all the time that she can’t start a book until she knows the ending. She needs to know the end before she knows the beginning. That’s another thing I like about her. She’s a planner, just like me.

***

After dinner, Lucy and I wash dishes and she heads out to work on her self-defense techniques. I’m tempted to watch, but I need time to get away. I have to clear my head. I tell her I’m going for a drive.

In the car, I turn on the radio, hoping to drown out my thoughts. This is too much. She can feel

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