Crimson Lies

Chapter Seven

Lisa

I slipped out of bed and dressed, careful not to make a sound. Roseanne was finally resting. I laid awake for a good hour just holding her-making sure she was properly asleep. I rolled my eyes. I could never be anything but a cold-blooded killer and the sooner I reminded myself of that, the better.

Walking into her quiet living room I stood for a moment, trying to ignore the ache of loneliness. The room was decorated in neutral colors, attractive, plush, but with no real character. Unlike Roseanne, who was so damn full of character she was impossible to ignore. I picked up her heels and grinned.

Damn shoes. Damn dress. Damn perfect body and tragic eyes.

I put the shoes down softly and reminded myself I had a job to do. Screwing Roseanne was just a way of doing that more efficiently. Sure, asshole. I booted up her laptop and watched as it connected to the internet. Two minutes later I uploaded the software I needed to access not only her keyboard strokes, but also all ingoing and outgoing mail, plus the camera and mic. I deleted all evidence of the download from the system and closed down the computer. I picked up my jacket, which lay crumpled on the floor, checked the inner pocket for the camera and bug I brought with me. I'd initially followed her to the bar last night to get an indication of how long she'd be so I could break in and set up surveillance. Somehow I got caught in a honeytrap of my own making.

I bent down to retrieve my wallet and scattered belongings from near the door where we first had sex. I closed my eyes and counted to ten. If I carried on thinking about all the different ways we fucked, I'd end up crawling back into bed with her in the hopes of scoring one-last-time. And that wasn't going to happen ever again.

Regret clawed inside him.

There was no doubt I was highly attracted to Roseanne and would love to see her again. But if she knew what I really was, and the illegal activities I carried out on behalf of people inside our government, she'd be disgusted. I didn't want her to want me under false pretenses, but there was no way I could confess the truth. So getting out of her hair before she woke up was the right thing to do.

So why the hell did it feel so wrong?

Added to the equation, my boss might not be too happy to know just how close I'd stuck to my target last night. Skin-on-skin probably wasn't what they had in mind when I received that order. Five-hundred and thirty-seven more days and I'd be out of this shit for good. For some reason the idea failed to bring its usual peace.

I removed the camera from my pocket and planted it beneath a table beside the front door. It gave a wide-angle view of the living room and a glimpse of the kitchen. The audio bug sat neatly inside a lamp on the far side of the room. There was a large blue box sitting on the dining table. Curious, I eased up the lid and saw a stack of files and newspaper cuttings about her sister's abduction. I clenched my jaw. How did it feel when someone you loved disappeared into the ether never to be heard of again? I didn't know but it reminded me of the importance of what I did.

I helped stop monsters.

Shrugging into my jacket I tried to ignore the guilt that ate at my conscience, telling myself I'd given Roseanne what she needed-a few hours of mindless pleasure and a sound sleep.

Yeah, I was a real hero.

It had been a long time since I'd found comfort anywhere or in anything. It took every ounce of willpower not to return to the bedroom and climb back into her bed. Instead, I left soundlessly through the front door and started walking southwest. Maybe if I just kept going for long enough I'd escape all the mistakes I made with my life-another impossible dream. Although, like Roseanne , I forgotten for just a little while last night.