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CHAPTER FIFTEEN:A CHANGE OF HEART

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CHAPTER FIFTEEN:
A CHANGE OF HEART

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"And if you wanted to kill me," Spencer whispers, "you would have done it already. But you haven't, because I think you know I'm the only person who really understands you."

"Really? You do know what I do for a living, right? Are you sure confidence is a luxury you can afford?" Nina says coldly. "Thanks to you, I just had to say goodbye to the only friend I've ever had. Thanks to you, I have to disappear."

"Is that such a bad thing?"

When Nina doesn't respond (scared of itching that scratch for fear of what might come leaking out), he grins breathlessly, wetting his lower lip with his tongue.

"See. I do understand you."

And maybe he does. Nina's starting to see that now, even if she's reluctant to admit it even to herself, let alone out loud to him. He's got enough of an ego as it is.

Both of his hands reach up, hesitantly clasping around the cold metal of the gun; his skin is millimetres from hers, so close to touching, just one tremor and their fingers will brush. She watches the veins under the back of his hands and along his wrists ripple as his fingers flex.

She loathes him for being so attractive. She wonders if he's self aware or if what he's doing to her is on purpose -- wonders if he knows what he could do to any woman if he wanted to. Put that mind and that mouth and those hands to good use, and he could live the rest of his life without ever sleeping alone.

"Part of you wants that fresh start," he continues lowly. "Aren't you tired of running? Of living on borrowed time?"

Scared of answering that question (it'll unlock a treasure chest of issues that she doesn't want to have to sort through), she avoids it entirely: "Aren't you tired of hunting me?"

He smiles, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling, and, so minuscule that she almost misses it, he shakes his head. "Nina, I'll never tire of hunting you."

Nina grins. She likes the compliment, especially coming from someone so pretty; it's the perfect form of validation -- as is the way he's looking at her. Since he stepped in, he hasn't taken his eyes off her, and she knows that isn't entirely out of fear. Plus, he's also perfectly proving her point: she can't live the rest of her life in this endless game of chase. Whether or not he 'understands' her, he simply can't continue to live if he's going to continue their game of Cops and Robbers.

She kicks his gun away with her high heel and it skitters across the floor, before she taps his chin idly with the barrel of her own. "And that's why you've got to go."

Trailing it down his torso, pulling at his shirt slightly, she backs up, then bends over to grab his own weapon from the wooden floor. Spencer's eyes never leave her; she can feel them, and she glances back and sees him watching.

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