But it went on to detail a completely different agreement, one that still included a year of her life to him, but in a manner that completely shocked her.
Her head jerked up to him. “I don’t understand.”
Wiping his mouth and hands with the napkin, even though he hadn’t eaten anything, Killian settled his gaze on her.
“It’s exactly as the contract states.” He set the napkin down and leaned back, folding his arms. “In order to pay what you owe, you will work for me for the next twelve months.”
“Work for you?”
She looked down at the paper in her hand again and reread it carefully a third time.
The conditions were clear. She had no problem understanding them. But it was the exact opposite of the original contract.
“My club needs waitresses,” he said as she ran over the lines again. “The position is available to you for as long as you want it. You will be paid accordingly with the exception of a hundred and fifty dollars every month that will be automatically withheld from your check. That money will go towards the amount you owe. This will continue for twelve months, after which you will be freed of your obligations. You are free to continue your position at the club, or you can find something else. The decision is yours.”
Clear, yet…
“But…” She lowered her arm and lifted her head. “A hundred fifty a month, every month for a single year doesn’t come anywhere close to paying you off. Not even by half.”
It was his turn to drop his gaze. He studied the fine thread of gold circling the plate containing his half eaten lunch.
“Do you know what happens when I die?” He lifted his chin and cocked his head so he could peer at her through narrowed, contemplating eyes. “All my money, every bit of property I own, goes to various charities and organizations. I don’t have any family or anyone to leave any of it to and I don’t want to. So money and possession means nothing to me. What I gave Juan for you will never be missed. I honestly couldn’t give a damn if I never see a penny of it again, but I know you will disagree with me.”
“Of course I disagree!” she shot back, horrified and disturbed by his disregard of something most people would kill to have more of. “That was a lot of money. A lot!” she stressed. “I can’t just let you toss away that much without paying it back. I won’t.”
A ghost of a smile shadowed the corners of his mouth, it lingered behind his eyes before he looked away with a sound that could have passed for a chuckle.
“I didn’t think so, which is why we now have two agreements.” He motioned to the one in her hand. “Both are essentially the same, but gives you the option to pick what you want to do.”
She did have options, which momentarily intimidated her. It had been too long since she was given the choice to do what she wanted. No one had ever given her that, not since her parents. For a moment, it was all too much and she had to drop the letter before he could see the tremor in her hand.
“This one is the most logical,” she began, barely in control of her tone as she nudged the letter to one side. “The other one makes no mention of you being paid, except by … by giving you me.” Heat swelled in her cheeks and she stubbornly kept her eyes lowered. “I also, while not rational, kind of like the idea of only having to work one job for once.”
“Is that the one you’ve decided on?”
The rational part of her said yes. It reminded her that it would mean not having to use her body and degrading herself even more. But the bigger envelope, the one binding her to him and not a job kept pulling her eyes, kept coaxing her to reach for it.
The truth was that she had really liked her single night with him. She had liked his hands on her, had liked the feel of his mouth. Accepting the job may have been logical, but it didn’t come with the added bonus of being with him, and she already had a job. She had three. And without having to give Arlo seventy percent of her income every month, that left her with more than enough money to support herself and Vi. But she still needed to give Killian something. He deserved something for everything he’d done for her.
“What do you want?” she asked him. She shoved her dishes away and placed the two agreements side by side. “Which one would you pick?”
If her question surprised him, he never showed it, nor did he even glance at the two contracts.
“I would pick the job,” he said after several long minutes of silence.
That surprised her. She had been so certain he would ask for her.
“Why?”
Dull fingers of grief flittered across his features before they were shuttered out and he averted his eyes.
“I’m cursed and those who get too close always wind up dead.”
Juliette thought of what Arlo had told her about Killian being a stone cold killer and shivered despite the warm summer breeze wafting around them.
“Can I ask you something?”
He looked at her, waiting.
“Have you ever killed anyone?”
It was a dangerous question to ask. He had every right to get up and walk away. No one in their right mind would confess to murder.
“Yes.”
Except maybe Killian McClary. He never so much as batted an eyelash.
She licked her lips. “Did they deserve it?”
Most people didn’t think anyone had the right to take a life. Most people would think her question ridiculous and maybe even appalling. How did one justify murder? But there were people in the world who deserved to die. Sometimes even horribly. Juliette truly believed that. People like Arlo. People who beat and raped women. People who hurt children. Their lives were cancer on society and there was no rehabilitation. Once a child molester, always a child molester. It was a sickness that had no cure, contrary to what the law might say.
“Yes,” Killian murmured. “They raped, tortured, and murdered my mother and shot my father.”
Juliette sucked in a sharp breath. Her fingers tightened in her lap. She thought of what Killian had said to her the night they’d met, when she’d thanked him for saving her and he’d said he hadn’t done it for her. She thought of the beautiful stone fountain, a monument his father had created for the woman they’d both lost and the pain on Killian’s face when he’d stood before it.
“Did you make them suffer?” she heard herself ask.
He never broke eye contact and she could see the raw anger and pain he was fighting back. “Yes.”
Swallowing hard, Juliette nodded. She lowered her gaze to the agreements before her without seeing them.
“Good.” She whispered. She moistened her lips again and pushed the bigger envelope forward. “This one.”
Killian studied her selection a long while before focusing on her once more.
“Why?”
Steeled in her decision, Juliette sat back. She straightened her shoulders and met his gaze unflinching.
“I don’t need a job,” she told him matter of factly. “And what I do want, it’s not listed in the second contract.”
One hand lifted. The elbow was propped against the armrest as the fingers curled lightly near his mouth. He studied her from over the curves of his knuckles, his eyes dark with challenge.
“And what is it you want, Juliette?”
Self-consciousness had her gaze flicking away for a split second before she bolted down her courage and faced him squarely.
“You.” She ignored the crack of her heart pounding against her chest and the way his face seemed to grow all the more intense with her declaration. “I understand this isn’t a relationship and that it’s only for a year, but I’m okay with that. I just want what we shared the other night.”
Juliette wasn’t certain if it was her imagination, but the very air around them seemed to vibrate. Time itself had pulled to a stop as she waited with her breath held for him to respond. Each second that passed coiled in the pit of her stomach, winding tighter around her nerves until she was terrified the whole thing would snap and she’d bolt out of her chair and run.