ETHAN

Let me recap the last twenty four hours of my life:

First of all, I shared a part of my past with Vanessa by telling her about my nightmares. I wasn't supposed to share that with her. I shouldn't have. She saw my scars and even touched them.

Secondly, I spent most of the day apart from Vanessa as we shopped. In that time, Drake and I got to talking about things. Of course, we ended up talking about Vanessa, and Drake once again instilled his doubts about her, saying that we can't get close.

Thirdly and most importantly, she dressed up like a goddamned queen, and I kissed her.

I shouldn't have. It was a mistake, but I really needed to save our asses from getting kicked out of the auction.

No. That's not true.

There was a multitude of other things I could've come up with—we needed a smoke break, we weren't feeling good, we had to take a call—why on earth did I kiss her?

It was the first thought in my mind when I saw the back door opening. I saw Vanessa's dark red lips and thought it would be okay. I guess I thought that since we were undercover, it didn't matter if we kissed. We were supposed to be a couple anyway, right?

Wrong. It does matter, and now I have complicated things. She's all in my head, making it hard to concentrate.

I have to concentrate. I have to. This mission is so important that if I were to screw this up, I might as well dig myself a grave and jump in. We can't let criminals get away with this weapon.

With my jaw clenched, I steal a glance at Vanessa. She isn't looking at me. Her face is turned toward the mass of people before us, her caramel eyes trained on Mr. Fitch.

At the moment, he is walking toward the fancy spiral stairs that stand before the people. I'm sure that's where he will oversee the auction's bidding. It's all about to go down, and the air is thick.

It's not thick because of the anticipation. It's thick because Vanessa and I haven't cleared the air between us. What just happened is fresh on our minds and is messing with our heads.

I need to clear the air and to let her know that it was a minor fluke, a mistake.

I whisper. "Sorry about earlier."

She sucks in a breath, and for a moment I swear she looks a little disappointed, but then she turns and smiles with a bright look on her face. "It's fine. I know it's hard to contain yourself when I'm all dressed up like this."

She could be slightly right, but I shake my head. "No, really. Sorry if I overstepped."

Her grin falters as she places her hand on my back. "Forget about it."

With her hand on my back, my mind flashes back to last night when she touched my scars. I've been in bed with many girls, but nobody has ever thought of my scars as something more than just that. In my opinion, scars tell a story, and Vanessa was the only one who has ever been interested in my story.

Honestly, when she put her hands on my back last night I felt vulnerable. And normally I hate feeling vulnerable because I feel as if I have no control, but with Vanessa, it wasn't that way. I was comfortable. I was comfortable being vulnerable around her.

And that's what sucks.

That's what complicates things.

It wasn't just a fake kiss that meant nothing. I think I might've wanted to kiss her, and by the way she kissed me back, I fear she wanted to kiss me, too.

Her hand rests on my back for a moment, all the while thoughts and questions bouncing off the walls of my mind. When she lets go of me and clasps her hands in front of her, there is a cold chill that slithers down my spine in the absence of her warmth.

Shit. She's gotten under my skin.

Mr. Fitch taps silverware against his wine glass as he takes a few steps up his staircase. Above everyone's heads, he smiles broadly. "Welcome, everyone."

I blink away my thoughts, mentally slapping myself. I will not think of Vanessa. Not now. Not when lives are at stake.

I stare at Mr. Fitch, grinning when he meets my gaze. "I see a lot of unfamiliar faces. I hope you all have enjoyed the champagne and light music."

There's a few nods and smiles, but Mr. Fitch's tone changes suddenly. "The time has come to get down to business, though, so I hope all of you are ready for the auction to begin. The bidding will start at fifty thousand dollars."

"Wouldn't it be fair for us to catch a glimpse of this weapon?" Someone in the crowd says, making Fitch tilt his head.

"I suppose." There's a hint of a smirk on his lips as he gestures to his wife to run to a different room. Minutes pass, and when she returns she has a black cylinder case in her hands.

Her husband nods to her, and she turns the top of the cylinder. A section of the case pops up slightly, allowing her to lift it up to show what is inside. She pulls out a circular rack that has a single vile in the center of it.

In the vile, a yellow liquid is present. A few people shift their weight, a few leaning closer in curiosity. Mr. Fitch loves the attention and proudly says, "The liquid that is in this small vile could kill up to one third of the world's population if used properly."

Out of the corner of my eye I see that Vanessa lifts a hand to her mouth. Horror pulls her expression tight, but I nudge her and the look disappears.

However, what she showed on the outside is how I feel on the inside. This weapon could destroy the world and take billions of lives.

Mr. Fitch shrugs. "Or, the liquid can be used to target a single building. I guess it just depends on how you'd like to use it."

"If you're curious on how, it's simple. Scientists discovered the deadliest type of botulinum toxin, and I got my hands on it." Mr. Fitch holds it out, everyone taking a good look at it. "This is the only batch I could get, so, really, it's priceless."

"This shit is going to be expensive." I hear Drake whisper from behind me. "I hope the CIA has a couple million handy."

The CIA will get all its money back after we catch this Fitch guy and collect all of the funds from his bank accounts, but for now, we have to make the transaction. Drake is right. Hopefully, they have enough to pay Mr. Fitch.

"So, I suppose we should start." Mr. Fitch grins. "Fifty thousand. Who wants to raise it?"

I raise my hand, calling out a new price. "Seventy thousand."

Mr. Fitch nods approvingly, but within a few seconds there's another voice filling the air. "One hundred thousand."

"Two hundred thousand." Says someone who has a thick Russian accent.

"Two hundred fifty thousand." Is the next price.

Vanessa glances over at me, her eyes shimmering with worry. I raise my hand, calling out a higher bid. "Three hundred thousand."

When the bidding gets to one million, I swear Vanessa is having a heart attack.

"One million fifty thousand." I swallow my pride and raise my hand once more.

The amount of people bidding has dwindled. It's a battle between me, an older couple, a couple from Saudi Arabia, and a couple from China. Vanessa is mindlessly fidgeting with her hands as we receive death glares from all of them.

"Two million." My confident voice booms across the room. I swear Mr. Fitch's eyes are turning greener and greener with every hand raised.

"Two million five hundred thousand." The older couple stares right at me, and I hesitate for a moment just to mess with them.

Then, I raise my hand once more. "Two million eight hundred thousand."

The foreign couples stop raising their hands, one of them exiting the building in an angry storm. This older couple, though, is a tough one to crack.

"Two million nine hundred thousand." They say with threatening tones.

I swear I might be murdered in this very moment, but I remain calm and collected. "Three million."

"Shit." The man of the couple curses, his wife trying to calm him down with soothing words. All the while, my hope has ignited. Have I won?

Mr. Fitch awaits more voices, but when he the air remains silent, he asks, "Three million going once."

"Three million going twice." His voice numbs my limbs.

"Three million sold to the wonderful couple in the back." He grins so widely I swear he could stretch it across the Atlantic ocean. "Please let my wife escort you to a private room."

"Holy shit. If the CIA doesn't have three million dollars lying around, you three are dead meat." Ajax exclaims in my ear.

I hold my chin up high as we walk through the masses of staring criminals. I'm sure we are at the top of their hit lists now since we've outbid all of them.

I make sure Vanessa is close to me as we get through the people. I don't know what gives her confidence, but as she walks through the crowd her hips sway from side to side and her heels click on the floor like it's nothing.

Maybe she thinks the worst part is over.

When we get to the back, there's a room that we enter where the walls are blank. There is no furniture in it except a single chair and table, where a man wearing glasses sits and types away at a laptop. He doesn't glance up when we enter.

There are also men in each of the four corners in the room. They wield AK47s and own ugly, menacing eyes.

Vanessa, Drake, and I stop in front of the table and wait as Mr. and Mrs. Fitch enter the room and shut the door behind them. Mr. Fitch rubs his hands together and walks over to the man in the chair, patting his back. "Let's do this. What's your way of payment, Mr. and Mrs. Smith? Cash or debit?"

His joking around makes me dislike him even more. All this man cares about is money, and that's just horrible. He doesn't care if his actions lead to one third of the world's population to diminish. It's like he is not even human.

"We have some offshore accounts." I tell him smoothly.

"Good." Mr. Fitch smirks and waves the cylindrical weapon case around like it's nothing. "Let's get this ball rolling."

The man seated in front of us finally looks up as I start relaying information to him. Ajax is in my ear, telling me all of the account numbers and passwords that we need to give them access to. He tells me each of the account's amounts, and I start to worry when he hesitates at two million seven hundred thousand.

There's a few seconds that pass and Ajax is clicking away. I'm left to the deafening silence and the stares of the Fitches. The man behind the desk mumbles. "That's two million seven hundred thousand. You still need three hundred thousand."

I clear my throat. I can feel the sweat rolling down my back. "I know. I'm trying to remember my last account number."

Vanessa's eyes flicker over to me. Then, she surprises the hell out of me and smiles to Mrs. Fitch. "You know, while he's thinking about that, I have a question Mrs. Fitch."

Mrs. Fitch's chin tilts up as her eyes flicker with interest. Vanessa gestures to the white dress she wears. "Where did you get your dress from?"

"I hire my own designer." She tells us matter-of-factly. "You should look into hiring your own. I'm sure a designer could work wonders on a body like yours."

Ajax is still typing away, but I'm distracted by the way Vanessa is blushing and glancing down at herself like she doesn't know she looks sexy. "We should look into it, babe."

I nod numbly. "Oh, yeah. Sure."

"Got it! Yes! I fucking got it!" Ajax yells in my ear, almost making me cringe. As he repeats the last account number, relief rolls over my body like a tidal wave.

"Oh, I remember now." I snap as if the account number just came to mind. Ajax is in the middle of explaining that the account has forty hundred thousand dollars instead of three hundred thousand dollars as I am repeating the account number to the man behind the table.

After I finish relaying the information, I grin at Mr. Fitch. "There's an extra one hundred thousands dollars in that one. Take it as a grateful tip for this great party."

"Why thank you." Mr. Fitch's eyes light up. He stares at the person in the chair and awaits a simple nod. Once he receives it, he clasps his hands together and cheers. "Thank you for this smooth exchange."

He walks over to me and passes me the weapon. I grip it tight, my heart skipping a beat. We did it. We fucking did it.

"And thank you." I gesture to the door, Vanessa immediately turning to move over to it. As soon as she grips the door handle, though, Mrs. Fitch stops her dead in her tracks.

"Mrs. Smith, we have to talk more sometime." She says with a smile.

Vanessa lets out a breath and nods. "Of course we do. I'm sure we'll see each other around."

Then, Vanessa exits the place with me right on her heel. My nerves are singing with excitement as I glance around, catching the gazes of the few people left in the building talking. A few body guards line the place and stare at us with narrowing eyes.

Drake follows us as we make a quick escape to the parking lot. He hops in the driver's seat and before we even buckle he is whipping the car into drive and lurching us onto the street. Vanessa quickly puts the car's strap around her and then tilts her head up as if she is looking to heaven. "I can't believe we just did that. I thought we were going to die by the way those people were looking at us when we won the bid."

I am in the middle of opening my mouth when Drake says, "We're not finished yet. We have to hand the weapon over to our boys, Ajax, Felix, and Tony. As soon as they have it in their protection, they're going to take it on a private jet back to the U.S."

"That's if the CIA has any money left." Vanessa remarks with a shake of her head. "Damn. Three million dollars!"

"We'll get the money back as soon as they arrest the Fitches." I reassure her.

Vanessa's lips turn down slightly. "Man, I sort of liked Mrs. Fitch. She had some good conversations."

I roll my eyes and force myself to look away from Vanessa's caramel eyes. "Yeah, well, she is on the most wanted list just like Mr. Fitch. Now we know what they look like. It won't take long for the CIA to arrest them."

"Okay." Vanessa says in a tiny voice.

I glance her way. "Well, sometimes the bad guys look like the good guys. That's why you can't really trust anyone."

Vanessa meets my gaze, her brown eyes softening. I can tell she knows exactly what I'm doing. I'm trying to tell her not to fucking trust me. I'm trying to tell her to stop getting close to me. What she says in response, though, diminishes my hope in her understanding. "Well, I think not all bad guys are really bad. They've just done some bad things, and they think they deserve nothing good, but they do."

The way Vanessa looks at me makes me have a little sliver of hope that I do deserve good, but a second passes and Drake huffs. "Vanessa, I don't think you know what you're talking about, but anyways, we're almost at the spot where we are supposed to meet Ajax, Felix, and Tony. Do you have the weapon ready, E?"

I nod and glance out of the window. Drake is right. Vanessa has no clue what she is talking about. I know she was hinting at me, but she doesn't know me. If she thinks that I'm not a bad guy, she'd be wrong. She has no idea how much blood is on my hands. She'd drown in the blood I've spilled.

***

After we've passed the weapon off to Tony, Ajax, and Felix, we make our way back to the hotel room. Drake made sure we weren't followed and even took an alternate route to see if anyone was on our tail. He said he was going to hang out with us for a while before going into his own room, but then he remembered that we needed to start packing our things to take home, so when we get off the elevator he apologizes and heads to his hotel room, leaving Vanessa and me alone.

I swipe our room key and let Vanessa in first, but once we're both inside, she says, "Okay. Is it just me or did that kiss mean more than what you made it out to be?"

I nearly choke on the air I breathe. Is she really saying this right now?

I stare at her for a moment in her beautiful, red dress. Her long eyelashes bat at me as she blinks, awaiting my reply. She's just complicating things even more. I can't let that happen. She can't get close to me.

"No. I thought it was just that. Just a kiss." I lie, watching as her caramel eyes fall to the floor.

Shit. Why does her looking sad make me want to comfort her and apologize right away? What the hell...

"Okay." She lifts her chin, and for a moment I think she is going to walk away, but she doesn't. Instead, she says, "You know, I've heard that people only let the people in that they think they deserve."

I've heard that, too, but I've never given it thought. Vanessa sighs and glares at me. "You deserve to be happy, E. You and I don't know each other very well, but I know you enough to understand that you aren't happy. I mean, I've only seen you genuinely laugh one time this whole trip."

My face pinches. "What? That's not true."

"It is too." She fires back at me. "And when I asked you last night if you were happy, you didn't answer."

"Yeah. I didn't answer because I am not supposed to share those things with you, V. We're not supposed to get close." Anger suddenly surges through my veins. She has no right to tell me what I am and what I'm not. What does she know anyway?

"Says who?" She chuckles, and it's a bitter one. "My dad? He doesn't know right from wrong."

"Are you saying that us getting to know each other would be right?" I ask, a little on the breathless side.

Her lips tighten. "Well, I think that saying a person doesn't have a right to have friendships with others is wrong."

I say the first thing I think of and immediately regret it. "Friendship? Is that what this is?"

Vanessa takes an angry step toward me. There's only a few feet between us. She's so close I can see her chest rising and falling quickly. "I don't know. You felt absolutely nothing when we kissed, so obviously we're less than what I want us to be."

Shit. Shit. Shit. She said it. She said that she wants us to be more.

And I want to, too. I don't know about all the technicalities, but for once in my goddamned life I just want to do something for me. Not for my friends or family or for the CIA. I want to do something for myself, something that would make me happy, at least for a little while.

And Vanessa is standing before me with open arms, metaphorically. She's a good person with a heart made of gold and she is looking at me like I am just as good of a person as she is. I'd pay people to look at me like that, but nobody does.

I mentally slap myself. What am I doing? Nobody looks at me like that because I'm not the type of person she thinks I am. She thinks just because I saved her life, I'm her knight in shining armor.

I can't let her fall into the endless pit of darkness that I would surround her in if she were to be mine. I blink and roll my eyes at her. "Vanessa, don't do this. If you knew what I have done..."

She takes one step closer to me, this one lighter and much less angry than the last. Her caramel eyes glare into my eyes as if the only thing she sees in them is good. She must be looking at her reflection, not at me. She says, "Ethan, I trust you."

I close my eyes so that I can't see her sincere expression. "Why? Why the fuck would you trust me? I got you tortured and dragged you into this mess. You would be living a normal life if it wasn't for me. You'd be safe and happy and-"

Her hand rests on my