STEEL (EDITING)

TWENTY-THREE.

Martha stretched grinning at the renovation's progress. Instead of distressed woods and earthy tones, the house was decorated with black and white with a burst of color here and there. The sleek lines and sharp angles sent a thrilled through her. She loved the minimalistic style. Some would call it sterile but she called it freeing. Rolling her neck she shuffled into the kitchen while smiling softly at the young teens sitting at the breakfast bar, eating. Was this fulfillment? Unconsciously her hand drifted across her midsection, and she jerked it away before attempting to tuck a non-existent hair strand behind her ear.

"Where's Matt?" She missed the doe-eyed little boy. He was going to be something else when he got older. 

"I think he's in the guest house. He should come soon," Chase replied before stuffing his mouth full of food. Her eyes shifted toward the enigmatic man sitting with the boys, boring into him. Today, he wore loose black slacks and a collared white shirt where the sleeves were rolled back halfway so that his delicious-looking forearms displayed. Martha grinned when in triumph when the gorgeous man set his fork down.

Sighing, Charles ran his fingers through his air. The boys were a handful and he still hadn't gotten any proper rest. He supposed he deserved it. He shouldn't be sneaking around in the middle of the night looking for lost little boys. Wait, that didn't come out right.

"He's checking on our new friend. I adopted another one. He got here last night. I wanted to surprise you. And its not what you thinking, boy," he added watching Levi's shoulders sink before returning his gaze to Martha.

"Why didn't you say so sooner?! I need to make him a plate," Martha said, busying herself. She thought she would be bored out of her mind once she stopped taking on cases, but the renovations has been keeping her busy and so have the boys. They were like little men. She smiled as Chase and Levi excused themselves, and Charles wrapped his arms around her. She stilled when Charles took her hands into his and pulled her towards the living space. Sinking into the sofa, she held her breath at the next words. The mood shifted and she prayed the next few words wouldn't destroy her.

"I'm the worse kind of man you could fall for, a killer."

Martha heard his words but they really didn't register. She wanted to snatch her hands out of his grasp and run for the hills. There was always something wrong with the men she dated! She jerked unconsciously, but he held her immobile in his iron clasped. She could do nothing but stare. Okay, girl, she wanted answers, it looked like she was finally getting them. Swallowing her trepidation, she preceded with her questions.

"Does this have anything to do with the accident?" Her lip quiver with the possibility that his work could have put her at risk. Could cost them the life of their child!

"Martha, no!" he exclaimed, pulling her into his embrace. "I would never do anything to put you in danger. Yes, I have many enemies, but they don't have any idea who I am."

"Why do you kill?" she sniffed.

Charles mulled her question over. Should he give her the answer that she wanted to hear?

"Sometimes, you must lurk in shadows to capture the creatures that come out at night. None of my kills are illegal." Well, not the ones he wanted people to know about.

"Are you a mercenary?"

"Yes, you'll be surprise at the government's demands. But even in this business, I have to have an alias."

"How many do you have?"

"As many as I need."

"Who are you Charles?" she whispered.