Ruthless Creatures by J.T. Geissinger

“It’s the whole floor. 8,000 square feet. 360-degree views
of New York City. You’ll love it.”
After a moment, she steps forward hesitantly. I hold the
doors open for her, ignoring the electronic alarm bell when it
starts to chime. She walks out of the elevator and into my
home, not stopping until she’s crossed the living room and is
standing at the floor-to-ceiling glass windows on the opposite
side of the elevators.
For a long time, she silently takes in the view of Central
Park.
Then she turns to me and says quietly, “I’m not going back
to work, am I?”
Knowing I can never hold back a shred of the truth from
her ever again, I answer without hesitation. “No.”
“Or Lake Tahoe.”
“No.”
“Permanently?”
“Correct.”
“What if I said I wanted to?”
I say softly, “You don’t, baby. You would’ve already told
me if you did.”
She draws a slow breath. We stare at each other. My arms
ache to feel her warmth.
“I left Mojo with Sloane.”
“I’ll bring him here. Along with all your things from your
house.”
After a moment, she whispers hoarsely, “Just burn that
damn house down. Burn it to the ground.”
When I take a step toward her, my heart throbbing, she
holds up a hand to stop me.
“Not yet, Kage. You need to leave me alone for a while.”
Her voice is broken. Her eyes shine with unshed tears.