At least brother and sister were making amends. He and Roman would duke it out in the morning. Wouldn’t be the first or last time they’d throw down. It worked for them, and truth be told, he felt like a beating might kill off the emo bullshit bouncing around in his brain.

Cash took off the ankle holster, laid the gun under his pillow, and looked at Betty. “Looks like you’re the only one in my life. Glad you can’t hobble away.”

Then again, he wouldn’t have Betty the Shitkicker if things hadn’t gone down with Nicola the way they did. He’d be married, kicking it with a white picket fence somewhere out in Small Town, USA. No idea how he’d earn a living. It sure as shit wouldn’t be traveling all over the world, blowing the brains out of other POS. And his wife wouldn’t be up to her cute nose in the CIA.

“Night, Betty.”

But saying goodnight didn’t accomplish his sleep-focused end game.

I fell in love with him… And again. And again…

Well, that was enough to drown him in memories. They’d been on the same page from day one. How he waited so long to kiss her, he had no idea. She was an adorable brat when they were neighbors, always wanting to play with him and Roman. No tea parties for that girl. She wanted in on cops and robbers. Maybe he should have seen the CIA coming.

He laughed about prom. Every high school dance, he’d taken someone other than the girl he wanted. Except for one time, when Nicola’s date came down with the chicken pox. Homecoming his senior year. Yeah, he’d been Homecoming King too, and dancing with Nicola in front of the school had been the best moment of his high school career. Not the state championship winning touchdown. Not any other single memory.

He didn’t care that he’d ditched the Homecoming Queen two seconds into their dance. He had eyes for one girl, and since he was her stand-in-date for the night, Cash had used it to his advantage.

Yeah, he needed Roman to beat his face in tomorrow. Maybe that would knock out all these shitty memories.

CHAPTER SIX

Nicola needed new clothes and a pair of shoes. Cash’s shirt and sweats made her finger-tapping, mind-spinning anxious. They smelled like him. It was as if the ghost of boyfriends past wrapped its emotional arms around her and hugged her all night long. The morning was a long time coming, but now she faced dawn. Time to go.

Glancing in the mirror and deciding her makeup was a lost cause, she scrubbed it off in the bathroom. Still not better. A shower was the better option. Using all the shampoo and body wash in the travel-sized containers she found, she did her best to clean up. With a quick towel dry of her hair, she put her clothes back on, and was off, limping toward the kitchen.