Leave Me Behind

Bradshaw fits in with the whole late night at a twenty-four-hour diner vibe. His black attire is gloomy and his hood is securely back over his head where it belongs.

I thank the waitress as she brings me a cup of coffee and eggs benedict. Bradshaw ordered a cup of orange juice and a breakfast burrito.

It’s now one in the morning. So much for going to bed early. But I don’t mind being tired tomorrow. This is a much, much better night than I could’ve hoped for. I haven’t felt anything like this in two years. And the longing to care for someone again is an ache I’m not ready to settle yet. I’ll bask in his presence for as long as I can.

We haven’t said a word to each other since arriving. He just keeps staring at me like he’s trying to figure me out. At least he’s not full-on glaring anymore.

I drop two sugar cubes into my mug and three packages of the small fake milk cups they leave on each table in a white bowl. Bradshaw takes a bite of his burrito and shuts his eyes.

“That good?” I tease, cutting into my eggs and eager to follow him into the food bliss.

He nods. “Best one a.m. burrito I’ve ever had.”

I laugh. “How many have you had?”

He shrugs. “I guess this is the first.”

“You’ve never gone out for late-night food?”

He shakes his head, the empty expression slowly returning to his eyes. “I was never allowed to leave the house at night growing up. And I joined the military young.” He keeps it brief.

My throat bobs. I knew it. Avoid the topic of work.

“Why? Were your parents super strict with you and Eren?” I ask before shoving food in my mouth. I shut my eyes as the hollandaise takes over my tastebuds. So good.

He looks up at me and smirks.

“We were orphaned early on. The foster folks let Eren do whatever he wanted. They only kept me locked away because they thought I was going to hurt people if I had the chance.”

My fork stills on my plate.

“Would you have?”

Bradshaw studies me inquisitively before ultimately saying, “Maybe. I was always sort of an off kid.”

Me too. I want to admit but the words die on my tongue.

“Hmm, that’s odd,” he says, a darkness blooming over those icy eyes.

“What?”

“This is the part where you’re supposed to be afraid of me.”

I take a sip of my coffee before looking over the empty diner. My eyes move back to his. “You don’t scare me.” He does, though, just a little.

A sinister expression takes over his handsome face and sends chills up my spine.

“Is that so?” He lifts his drink and takes a few swigs. His Adam’s apple bobs a few times and I hate how intently I watch it. He sets the cup back down and licks his lips. “What is a girl like you afraid of then?”

I try thinking of what scares me.

I was afraid of losing Jenkins and my squad, but that already happened.

“The ocean.” My smile is mischievous.

He grins sarcastically. “Are you serious?”

I laugh. “Of course! Tons of people are scared of the ocean. It’s fucking huge and it’s so easy to lose control of things out there in the vast waters.” I shudder just talking about it.

Bradshaw leans forward with his elbow on the table, his chin resting on his palm. Strands of his black hair are splayed over his forehead and make him all the more lovely. He blinks at me like my words are interesting and contentment tugs at his smile.

“What are you looking at?” I ask, annoyed.

“At the woman who fears the ocean but not me,” he taunts.

My eyes narrow. “Well, what is a guy like you afraid of?” I playfully nudge his shoe with mine. I could be in a throwback movie right now, flirting with the man of my dreams. I muse about that as I watch him hesitate to answer. “Well?”

“Nothing scares me.”

“That’s bullshit.” My nudging foot turns into a kicking one.

He shoots me a glare before breaking and shaking his head with another one of his soothing laughs.

“Okay, fine. I guess if I had to name one thing, it’d be outliving my twin.”

I nod. “He’s the only person that matters to you?”

His eyes flicker. “He’s the only one left.”

So there were others, but they aren’t around anymore. I lean back and cross my arms. I’m no stranger to loss. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Bradshaw lifts a shoulder. “That’s life.” He pauses before changing the topic. “So what’s a person like you doing here in Coronado?” He signals the waitress that we’re done with our meals.

“Just trying new locations. Seeing what suits me,” I lie. The waitress trots over with the check and my cheeks warm when he hands her cash before I can object.

“Thanks,” I say as the waitress walks away.

He holds out his hand for mine expectantly. I slip my fingers over his.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve met someone I enjoy talking to other than Eren.” He brushes his thumb over the tips of my fingers before releasing my hand and nodding toward the exit.

“Same. But obviously without Eren,” I mutter. Bradshaw makes a face and shakes his head with a smirk.

“See? You just say weird things.”

“So do you.”ConTEent bel0ngs to Nôv(e)lD/rama(.)Org .

“Maybe that’s why I don’t mind you.”

I wait for him to walk ahead before smiling to myself. He sounded like Jenkins by saying that. I don’t mind you. Those were the first hard-earned, kind words I’d won from my sergeant. Ones I never thought I’d hear from lips as cold as his were.

That’s how I know Bradshaw, deep down, is a kind person too.

We walk around the corner, heading back to the hotel. I think to tell him he doesn’t need to walk me back, but I doubt he’d listen.

“So, Bradshaw, what kind of guy are you really?” I bump his shoulder with mine. The muscles in his neck feather but he steadily walks.

“I’m a devil.”

“A devil?” I echo incredulously.

If he knew what I was capable of he’d think I was a devil too.

“Yeah. I’ve done things no one could fathom. Things I hate myself for.” Okay, ominous much? “How about you? What kind of person are you?”

I think about that. I’ve killed many targets. Assigned and backed with paper. People I’d never met or knew why I was doing it. I have no clue how many children or brothers or sisters they had. I just followed orders, blindly and with little care. Jenkins always called me his little reaper.

“I’m a reaper,” I say thoughtlessly.

He stops outside the hotel entrance and looks down at me, eyebrows raised. “A reaper, huh? That’s a weird thing for a beautiful young woman to say.” His eyes narrow.

If only he knew. But my life is a sinful secret, my actions nothing but a whisper in the wind.

It still wears on me, though, each kill slowly draining my soul more than the last.

“What do you do for work?” he asks as he brushes his thumb over my cheek.

I take a short breath and shake my head. “I’m in between jobs.” I am technically between squads at the moment.

His brows knit in thought, but he pulls me into a hug, running his fingers down my back. I still as his fingers stop mid-way, close to my spine, over the bullet-sized scar that I know is piquing his interest.

“What did you do before?” He pushes. I can hear the gears in his head starting to turn.

My brain short circuits.

“Um, I worked at a library.”

He pushes me an arm’s length away and gives me a distrustful look. “Why are you lying?”

My lungs cease. “I’m not.”

The coldness returns to his eyes, the hard set back to his jaw.

I reciprocate the callousness. “Why does it matter? What do you do?”

He doesn’t respond.

“That’s what I thought. Hypocrite.” I attempt to walk around him and head inside to the lobby, but Bradshaw steps between me and the doors.

“Are you not saying what you do for work for the same reason I’m not?” His voice has a new edge to it, like a blade pointed right at me.

I look up at him and meet those scrutinizing eyes. His divine beauty should be illegal.

“What are you talking about?” I say as casually as I can. He studies me with disdain burning in his eyes before nudging me to the brick side of the building. There he leans over me, arms pressed to either side of the wall at my back.

I freeze. I can’t breathe. I can’t speak.

His words are careful. “You aren’t Penelope Gallows, are you?”

Every hair on the back of my neck raises and he sees the shock roll through my expression.

How did he know my real name? Unless… no.

“You’re not in the underground… the dark forces… are you?” My voice is shaky.

His eyes widen with the mention of our secret branch and his jaw sets with animosity. Bradshaw’s muscles flex and his astonishment quickly turns into anger.

“You’re the fucking bunny being assigned to our squad.”

Oh. Fuck Me.