Remi held the letter, not seeing the words on the crisp white page as he listened to her slam things around in the kitchen. 

That's not my problem. None of this is fucking reasonable.

Her words echoed around in his brain, shocking him. She trusted him not to rework a deal? She trusted him to honor an agreement?

Not that he wouldn't honor an agreement. Trust in his business actually did have a place. It was hard to make money off people who thought he was going to stab them in the back.

It was just... strange, considering what she knew about him. Strange that she... trusted him... wasn't scared of him.

Why wasn't she scared of him?

Remi set the letter—Charlie's future—down carefully on the couch he'd had delivered this morning. He stood up slowly, pressing a hand to his side. The wound was tender still, but not as painful as the last time he'd been stabbed.

The water had been turned off and he slowly made his way to the kitchen, standing in the doorway for a moment, just watching her.

She was leaning against the counter, hands braced on the edge. Her head was slightly lowered, her shoulders tight. Whisps of her hair had escaped from her ponytail, tickling the skin of her neck. His fingers brushed against one another—nerves or anger or something else, he didn't know.

"Charlie," he rasped.

Her back straightened, her entire body drawing itself up stiffly. Slowly, cautiously, he walked forward, feeling a bit like he was trying to sneak up on a panther. It was up to her if he would walk away with his pride mauled or not.

"If it was just about our deal," she croaked, still not facing him, "I wouldn't be worried. I've made my peace with that. But I don't think things are as simple as that. Do you?"

Remi stayed quiet for a moment. What had changed from this morning? How had she gone from that cold, beautiful creature to this soft, vulnerable woman?

Everything in him rejected that. She was not soft. She was not vulnerable. She was a force to be reckoned with—one he wanted to challenge and test until she forced him to stop.

"There isn't a single thing about you that's simple."

A nearly soundless breath escaped her and her hands tightened on the edge of the sink. The knuckles he could see turned white. "What do you want from me?" she whispered, and he realized he still had no answer. "What will this cost me?"

He wanted nothing, and everything, from her.

"You mean more than being a doctor," he said carefully, unwilling to assume that she meant anything different. "More than what I've already asked."

"A doctor isn't the only thing I am to you," she said quietly, uncertainly.

The truth was poison to him. He dealt in lies and secrets, worked in shadows and humanity's most shameful of behaviors. The honesty in that sentence hit him like a bullet and he hated how easily she wielded it against him. Hated how she had forced him to embrace it on more than one occassion since they'd met.

He despised the unsure tremor in her voice. Before he realized what he was doing, he let his fingers skim down her arm to her elbow. She didn't resist as he turned her toward him.

Charlie's eyes were closed, dark lashes fanned across the sleepless shadows etched into her pale skin. She looked like a porcelain doll with her heart-shaped face and fine, straight nose. Her full, expressive lips. 

Remi traced those lips with the tip of his index finger, noting their color, their softness.

"What am I, Remi?" she asked, breath brushing sensitive skin. 

Her eyes opened, those blue irises enforcing the picture of a doll even more.

But she was not a doll. She was not a toy, nor was she something easily broken. And a dark fire played behind the gold-flecked blue of her irises because she knew that.

She knew what she was and had maybe even accepted it, even as the rest of the world rejected it.

Strong. She was strong, and he wanted her for it, even as he hated her for it. He hated the fact that she could trust herself to step into his world and hold her own against the worst he had to offer.

How he envied and adored her for that.

He repeated something she had already said, sure it meant something different to him. "Salvation. Damnation." His voice was hoarse. "Something in between."

"What do you want?" She watched him closely, eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

Salvation. He swallowed hard.

Damnation. He gritted his teeth against the words clawing their way up his throat.

Something in between. Remi let out a long sigh.

"More than I deserve," he admitted. "More than I can afford."

It wasn't as messy or false as love. It wasn't as simple or old as lust. It was just the idea that he would be bored without her. That he liked the gleam she got in her eye when he pissed her off, or when he touched her in ways he probably shouldn't.

That he wanted her to stick around.

Charlie sagged back into the counter, relief passing over her face and something long abandoned stirred in his heart. Maybe it wasn't insane to think that she felt the same way he did, whatever that feeling was.

Remi grasped her chin, tilting her face up toward his. She met his gaze without reservation, without fear. That same strange feeling whispered through him. 

"So where does that leave us." He asked himself as much as he asked her. "Where do we go from here."

It was her choice. It had always been her choice about whether she continued to play in the shadows with him, or if she stepped back into the light and tried to belong there instead. He didn't need to make the decision for her—couldn't even if he'd wanted to.

It was just so much more tempting to have her decide how this would end. 

Something thrilling, even if it was dangerous.

Charlie put her hand on his hip, drawing him forward and he nearly wanted to grin. Her other hand rested lightly on his shoulder, and he leaned forward. He was still cold from the blood-loss and her body heat was delicious against his skin.

She shivered, and there was something in her eyes—a strange mix of wariness and trust.

He remembered something—either he had seen it on TV or read about it, he wasn't sure—about how ducks in the Arctic would build nests near some other predator bird, because those birds kept away things like foxes.

The catch was the predator birds would eat the duck eggs too, if they found them. The ducks were gamblers, betting on one predator over another in an attempt to protect themselves and their young.

Charlie was doing the same thing, placing a bet on him rather than the world. Betting on the idea that he was a hunter... but she wasn't exactly prey.

He wanted to see how it panned out.

"Is this really what you want?" he murmured against her ear.

"I don't know," she responded, pulling him closer. "This is probably a terrible idea."

She understood the risks. Understood that one predator wasn't necessarily better than another. But he was the one she'd chosen, even with the fangs and claws and cruelty he possessed.

"Worse than agreeing to work for me?" he teased.

"Definitely," she breathed as he brushed a kiss against the delicate skin below her ear.

He froze, then pulled away slightly to look down at her. Still not a lick of fear. How strange.

The phone in his pocket buzzed, but he didn't care. Leon could wait.

His hand slid from her face to rest over her throat. Charlie's heartbeat was steady under his fingers. Only a little fast even though she must have known it would take very little for him to kill her.

Unafraid even with his hand on her throat.

Remi still didn't know why she wasn't scared of him, why she wasn't at least more wary of him. Even the people who had known him for years were afraid of him, regardless of the fact that he didn't often resort to violence.

It was refreshing, fascinating, he decided as his fingers slid into the silky strands of her hair, tipping her head back slightly. Her hand tightened on his shoulder. 

He couldn't stand it anymore. He'd needed a cold shower after she'd left this morning but hadn't been able to take one because of his stitches. His body didn't have the same reservations his mind did.

Neither, apparently, did Charlie's. Her lips parted as soon as his mouth touched hers, her breath sweet and hot as she kissed him. He freed her hair, burying his fingers in the soft strands, crushing his mouth down harder against hers.

Charlie gasped and he groaned as her hands slid up under the back of his shirt, pressing him as close as he could be with their clothes still on. Her blunt nails dug into his skin as his tongue brushed hers.

She always tasted sweet. Not like sugar—more like molasses. There was a bite there too, and he didn't think he'd ever get enough of it.

Not thinking, he put his hands on her hips, lifting her onto the counter. The wound in his side screamed and he grimaced. Charlie's hands immediately flew to his side, but he hadn't torn the stitches. He knew what that felt like.

His breath was ragged when he tore his mouth from hers, kissing down her throat until he came to the place her neck met her shoulder. Her fingers ran through his hair, her body arching into his as he bit down on the tender spot.

She let out a small, muffled whine that made his mind go blank.

He wanted her here. Now. On the counter, bent over the kitchen table, against the wall, on the floor, whatever. His fingers hooked into the waist of her shorts and he pulled away slightly to tell her exactly that when his phone buzzed again, yanking him back to reality.

Another moment had him realizing if he made Leon wait much longer, there was every likelihood his lieutenant would come walking through the front door to remind him of the work that needed doing today. And while the idea that Leon would do this without batting an eyelash at whatever compromising scene he might walk in on amused Remi to no end, he didn't think Charlie would be as entertained.

So he growled at the interruption but still pulled his phone out of his pocket, one arm snaking around Charlie's slim waist as she continued to kiss and nip at his jaw before she got to his earlobe.

Gina wants Marcus' head on a pike. Leon's message was succinct, yet effective.

Remi growled again, the sound coming from a place of anger this time. He was so fucking sick of these people and their petty squabbles. But that didn't mean he could ignore the infighting. Not with every other crime organization salivating over his claim and waiting for a break in the ranks.

Which... meant he had to leave.

Charlie had moved to the side of his throat and he wrapped his fingers in her thick hair once again, regretting ever having told Leon that he was fine and didn't need to rest.

She hissed in protest as he gently pulled her away, and he grinned at the baleful glare she gave him. Her gorgeous eyes were glazed with lust, making him wonder if she'd have preferred the wall or the table.

"I have to go," he said, unable to stop himself from kissing her lightly. Then he raised an eyebrow. "Do you want to know?"

She blinked, gaze sharpening, and frowned at him. He waited for that realization to appear in her eyes. He waited for that understanding to kindle some sort of fear in her, but it never happened.

Instead, her expression turned droll, her voice dry as she said, "What happened to the more I know the worse off I'll be?"

He wanted to roll his eyes, but didn't think that would go over very well with her. And seeing as how he had plans to come back here as soon as they finished up with Gina...

Remi just shrugged and kissed her again, pleased when she kissed him back. It took more willpower than he cared to admit to stop. "You make decisions," he said, "and they change outcomes."

Part of him didn't really want her to know, realizing that it would absolutely be better for her if she didn't. A bigger part of him wanted to see just how well she could handle the soul-numbing ugliness of his world.

"Has something changed?" she asked, her voice innocent, her eyes anything but.

She had no idea. Remi smiled and untangled himself from her. He watched as she chewed at the inside of her cheek, obviously thinking it over. Again, he held his tongue.

It was still her decision.

A smirk twitched at the corner of her mouth. "You're not going to tell me."

Remi raised an eyebrow at that. He actually had every intention to tell her, if she still wanted to know. Like he'd said, they'd made decisions and things had changed.

Charlie nodded, smirk turning to a wry smile. "As far as you're concerned, I still don't need to know."

That almost made him gape at her. Of course she didn't need to know, but that had nothing to do with what they were talking about. An amused sound made its way up to the back of his throat and he stepped forward, running his hands up the outside of her thighs to her hips.

He yanked her forward until she was pressed against him again and she tipped her head back, watching him through her lashes, lips parting slightly. 

"I wanted to tell you earlier. You said you didn't want to know."

Charlie blinked, eyebrows furrowing at the reminder. Hesitation flickered in her eyes and his fingers tightened on her hips, but then she shook her head. "Why do you want to tell me?" she asked.

He bit the inside of his lower lip to stop another smile. How he loved when she played the game as well as he did. Remi opened his mouth to answer, found he didn't have one ready and frowned at her. Maybe he didn't like when she played that well.

A small, delighted smile crossed her face and Remi finally just shook his head. That answer he'd needed made a late appearance and he said, "Because it doesn't scare you, even though it should."

The thoughts that had been frustrating him since he met her finally came out of his mouth. He leaned forward, meaning to kiss her one last time and leave before he could say or do anything else that revealed more than he was ready to, but she turned her face. 

A soft sigh escaped him as she stared at the sink.

"Why is that, do you think?" Her voice was quiet, fragile. "Why doesn't it scare me?"

This made him blink rapidly. Did she really not know?

Her fingers began to play with the hem of his t-shirt, and he realized maybe he could see something no one else ever had. Or maybe it was just something she had never seen herself. He didn't understand how that was possible, but then again, he knew people didn't appreciate what she was like they used to.

Anger speared through him at the thought and the words spilled from him before he could think about their worth. "Because you grew up knowing how nasty the world is. There wasn't anyone to protect you. No one to wrap you in well-meaning lies about how you're safe and wanted and will succeed." A sigh revealed his temper and he shook his head minutely. "You grew up with the truth. That people are cruel. That you can be hurt. That you aren't safe."

Most children grew up believing they were all those things, but not them. No, they had grown up with a clear-eyed view of the world, even if they shouldn't have had to.

Her breath caught in her throat, hitching on some emotion he couldn't identify.

He needed to go.

Pressing a kiss to her temple, he stepped away, but couldn't just leave it at that. "You're stronger for that, Charlie. You're stronger than most people. That's why you aren't scared of me." He choked on a laugh. "Even when you should be."

Charlie didn't look at him and he turned to leave, not expecting a response. He froze when she rasped, "Some people would call that broken."

That he knew, but he wasn't sure he believed it. Maybe it was true for some people, but he had never felt particularly broken. Or maybe it was something else. After all, you had to heat steel almost to the point of destroying it before you could forge it into something deadly.

He realized she was watching him now and shrugged. "So we're broken. But at least we aren't scared."

Her lips parted in shock, but she didn't follow him when he went into the living room. Remi made it as far as the door before he stopped and slowly turned back to the letter. His eyes flicked to the doorway leading to the kitchen, but he couldn't hear anything.

She was probably waiting for him to leave. Quickly, he strode back over to the sofa, pulling two pieces of paper from his pocket. He'd meant to leave them on her desk and be gone before she got back, but Leon had been delayed and then she'd come home.

Carefully, he slipped the note and the check under the letter, eyes flicking once more to the kitchen door. Not a peep.

Unease flickered through him, but he shook it off and left, hands in his pockets as he strolled down to where Leon's Mercedes waited impatiently at the curb. Remi fell into the passenger seat with a groan, rubbing at his eyes.

"What happened?" Leon asked, sounding suspicious.

Remi let his hand fall from his face as the car pulled away from the curb, engine humming. The sound was throaty. His second sighed wearily, but repeated the question. Remi wasn't sure how to answer. He didn't really know.

Maybe things had changed, maybe they hadn't. It wouldn't be the first time she'd kissed him like that just to turn around and be cold as ice. He wasn't about to assume that her sudden warmth wouldn't disappear as easily as a snowball in hell.

He supposed he'd see later tonight if anything had actually changed.

"Let's just go take care of this thing with Gina," he finally said. "Nothing happened, nothing's changed."

Even he couldn't make that lie seem convincing.

Fun Fact: The thing about the ducks in the Arctic was a delightful fact shared by a wonderful author and friend of mine Sarah_MacLean. 

If you haven't read her book The Rose Killer, go do it right now. It's an amazing work of art with a MC to die for and a brilliant cast of surrounding characters in an insanely rich world.

The predator birds the ducks use for protection are called jaegers. This just blew my mind because Jaeger is my last name and the behavior of the ducks fit Charlie to a tee.