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“Long time no see, tiger cub.” The deep, raspy voice washes over me. Hearing it is like being swaddled by a thick fluffy blanket. I’m safe and secure, in a place where no one can do me harm.
“I missed you, too, cub,” he whispers, raising a big black gun, fitted with a suppressor. “Do not move.” My breathing stops. The muffled gunshot wheezes through the air.
One of my former colleagues had a saying: “Never presume someone is dead until he’s sporting a hole in his head.” It’s a solid mantra.
If I let myself be taken out, I wouldn’t be able to make sure the girl is okay. I need to make sure she’s safe, and that need is stronger than the wish to finally end my existence.
But I want to give her something. More than a kiss on her hand. I’ve actually never kissed anyone or anything before. I don’t have much to offer, so that night, I gave her what I had. A kiss for the hand that treated my wound with such care. But, I can also give her safety.
And I will not allow a potential threat to live anywhere near my tiger cub.
How could I watch over my girl if I’m dead? The night she tied her scarf around my thigh and then offered me her hand, my life became hers.
“I don’t like anyone touching my hair,” he says. I suck in a breath. Considering all the pinching, prodding, and squeezing I’ve done while patching him up, I didn’t expect that he would care if I touched his hair. “I won’t do it again.” His eyes lower to my lips, and linger there for a heartbeat. Then, he quickly looks away. “I don’t mind when you do it, cub.”
“You, my tiger cub, are a ray of light in the absolute darkness my life has become and has been for a very long time.”
“For the light to shine, darkness must retreat. It’s what’s meant to be.”
