Page 68 of Reclaimed

She sucks in a breath through her teeth, her grip on her fork tightening.

I pinch harder, eyes flicking from the fork and back. “Don’t,” I warn.

A mischievous smirk curls her lips, lashes batting innocently. “But what if I’m feeling stabby?”

“Then there’s plenty of elitist pricks in Northbrooke you could carve up.”

A wicked little spark ignites behind her hazel eyes.

There’s my fucking girl.

“You’ll stay here,” I declare, releasing her chin and picking up my waffle again, tearing into it with my teeth.

“Here?” she repeats, nose wrinkling. “With you?”

I raise a brow. “That a problem?”

She narrows her eyes on me, clearly searching for some sort of subtext.

“Guess I can just take you to the Vanguard, then,” I suggest.

Her face screws up in a grimace. “I’d rather fucking die.”

“It’s decided, then.”

“What, I don’t get a choice?” she scoffs, stealing my coffee mug from my hand.

“You just made it,” I reply bluntly as I point toward the door. “Out there, it’s only a matter of time before you’re hunted down and turned in to The Registry. They can’t get to you here.”

She lifts her chin, eyeing me suspiciously. “What makes you so sure?” she asks, hands wrapping around my coffee mug as she lifts it to her own lips and takes a long drink.

“Other than the fact we’re surrounded by hundreds of acres of wilderness with a secure perimeter?” I ask, stealing my coffee back the moment she lowers the mug. “They’d have to hire a merc to do it, and the only one with the skillset needed for the mission just retired.”

She nibbles on her bottom lip in contemplation as I tilt my mug, finding it empty.

I scowl at her. “Who fucking chugs hot coffee?”

“Someone that’s been tased while trying to savor it before,” she deadpans.

“Martin?” I surmise, walking over to the coffee pot for a refill. “Shame he’s already dead.”

Steam billows up as I refill my cup, pulling out another and shifting the carafe to fill one for her.

“So this place,” she murmurs, glancing around. “Is it your retirement home, then? Secret lair?”

“Something like that,” I say, placing a mug down in front of her. “Could be yours, too.”

She eyes me skeptically, lips turning down in a frown as she pulls the mug towards herself, like she’s afraid I’m going to take it away from her or some shit. “Until you change your mind, decide to go back, and collect my bounty?”

“I’m not going back,” I mutter. “The mercs are catching heat right now, some fuckin’ nepo baby got killed and his daddy thinks one of us did it.”

“Did you?” she asks, cocking a brow at me over the rim of her mug.

“Doesn’t matter,” I grumble. “Either way, the world’s better off without Austin fucking Miller in it.”

She chokes on her swallow, coughing and sputtering as she sets down the mug, blinking at me.

“He was a Registry Enforcer,” I say, “but before that, he was training to be a Mercenary. We were partners on a field assignment fresh out of probationary training. And, like a goddamn moron, he went off book. The rules were simple, track down this teenage girl and bring her back to the Vanguard alive. Fucking child’s play, but that neanderthal got trigger happy and shot her.”