“FBI,” she asks, hopefully.
I smirk. Stop being so damn fucking sexy. “No.”
“Special Forces.”
I roll my eyes. “You watch too much fucking television, Rosh.”
She watches me for a moment as if thinking. “Can I ask you something, Mac?”
I nod as my eyes drop to her perfect lips. God, what I wouldn’t give to have them around my cock. I get a visual of her naked and kneeling as she goes down on me and I harden even more. I subtly readjust my length under the blankets. “Yes,” I reply distracted by my wayward thoughts.
“You know how you are getting me a new passport?”
I frown as I listen. Where is this going? I nod.
“Can you get me a passport in another name?” she asks.
“Why?”
She shrugs as her eyes stay glued at the blankets underneath us.
I lift my hand and cup her face. “Who you running from, baby?”
Her eyes rise to meet mine. “Me. I’m running from me.”
6
Mac
The weight of her words crush my chest like a vice. I stare at her, unable to fathom the idea. “Why would you ever want to run away from you?” I ask.
She drops her eyes back to the blankets in shame.
I reach over and rub my thumb over her bottom lip. “You don’t have someone at home waiting for you?” I ask. What’s going on with this girl? Something just doesn’t add up here. I have always thought that she was hiding something. Although scared, she’s nowhere near as terrified as I imagine a woman who has been kidnapped after witnessing a murder would be. She’s learnt how to detach her emotions. Why?
She shakes her head softly.
How could that be? “What about your family?” I ask.
She hesitates for a moment before answering. “My mother died a few years ago and my father is no good.”
I frown. “Grandparents. Siblings?”
Standing as if annoyed with my line of questioning. “Can you help me or not?” she snaps.
I roll my lips as I contemplate her request. “I can if you tell me a few things.”
Her eyes meet mine. “Like what?”
“Like, why?” She continues to stare at me but doesn’t answer. “You think you can run away from your problems?”
“I don’t want to run away. I want to start again.”
I raise a brow in question. “Starting again on your own would be hard.”
She shrugs. “What are you going to do? Explain to me what your plans would be.”
I lie back and put my hands behind my head as I wait for her answer, her eyes glance up to my biceps before she drags them away and I bite my bottom lip to hide my smirk. She can pretend to not want me all she wants. I know her body has other ideas.
She swallows as she thinks. “I’m going to get off at Puerto Rico and then I thought maybe try to get a job or something.” Her large brown eyes meet mine as she shrugs. “I will work it out.”
I watch her for a moment. She can’t lie for shit, she already has a plan, I’m sure of it.
“So, you want to go off the grid. Become invisible, bad even?” I ask sarcastically.
She smiles sadly. “I think being bad would be easier.”
“Why is that?”
“At least I would know what to expect from people.”
I frown as I watch her. What’s happened to make her like this? My mind immediately goes to the night where we found her at the nightclub and the tears that were streaming down her face as she stumbled out that back ally way door.
“What do you mean by that?” I ask.
“Well…” She hesitates as she articulates her thoughts. “If I expect the worst then I will never be disappointed.”
I raise a brow in question. “The worst?”
“Lies.” She stands and picks up a towel from the floor.
I lean up onto my elbow as I watch her. “People lie to you?” I ask.
“Everyone,” she murmurs as she disappears into the bathroom to discard the towel.
“That’s not true. I never have,” I call.
She reappears and leans on the door jamb and smirks. “Yes. You have.”
“When?”
“When you told me your name was Mac.”
I raise my eyebrows. How does she know my name isn’t Mac? “I never introduced myself to you, and why do you think my name isn’t Mac?”
“Is it?” She smiles sexily with a raised brow.
I smirk and shake my head. “No.”
“Thought not.” She bends and picks up my clothes on the floor and starts to rearrange them.
“Can you just stop cleaning and come and talk to me for a moment?”
“Nothing to talk about. You either want to help me, or you don’t.”