The Executioner: A Love Story Read Online Free PDF Page B

knew it was a message from the Secretary.
    Don’t get too close to your new boyfriend , it read. We don’t want any secrets revealed accidentally .
    She wondered if the Secretary had a camera in her apartment. Or some kind of listening device planted somewhere. Whatever it was she couldn’t have Jordan’s apartment bugged. So she quickly changed into sweats and practically ran to Jordan’s apartment.
    “What’s wrong,” he asked when he saw her. “You look like someone is chasing you.”
    “No, I’m fine,” she countered as she jumped onto his couch. He finished in the kitchen and carried a mug of hot chocolate to her.
    Jordan started the DVD on the third episode of the series, and she stared into her cup. She blew on the liquid gently, preoccupied with her thoughts.
    “You can talk to me, you know. I won’t tell anyone.” Her attention turned to him, and she wanted more than anything to trust her new best friend with the peculiar grin who faithfully attended church services and didn’t drink or eat meat.
    She wanted to trust him more than she wanted anything in her life, other than killing Conner Samples.
    “I know,” she nodded, and took a sip of her drink. He returned his attention to the TV, but she didn’t take her eyes off him.
     
     

Chapter Four
     
     
    “Can I ask you something?” It was midnight and she was still sitting on his couch. They had gone from the TV show she thought she would enjoy to a big budget action movie. The main character of the movie was a vigilante who fought against a dystopian government. And she couldn’t help thinking of her own predicament.
    “You can ask me anything,” he said seriously. His brown eyes seemed so trustworthy.
    “If someone had planted a listening device in my apartment, would you be able to find it?” She couldn’t stop herself from spilling her guts while staring into those eyes.
    He seemed stunned for only a moment. “Are you sure you’re not a spy?”
    “I swear I’m not a spy,” she said emphatically as her shoulders slouched. She didn’t want to cry again, she really didn’t. But a tear escaped anyway. What had come over her?
    “Can you tell me what you do?” He was torn between wanting to trust her and wanting to know the truth.
    “I really shouldn’t.” She bit her lip. “It’s safer for both of us if you don’t know.” That was a delicate way of wording it.
    “Do you work for the government?” He asked quickly.
    “No,” she smirked.
    “Are you a terrorist?”
    “No!” She cried out and moved away from him.
    “Are you a vigilante?”
    Her eyes narrowed. Did her body language give it away during the movie? Was he so observant he figured it out so quickly? Damn him and his intelligence. She wished he wasn’t so smart.
    “You are a vigilante,” he exclaimed. He sounded almost excited. “Who do you work for?” She had to stand up and move toward his kitchen before she gave anything else away. She wished she’d carried her bottle of wine over to his apartment.
    “Could you tell me if there is a listening device in my apartment?” She turned back to him with a look of sadness.
    That was what drew him to her, after all; her tears. He couldn’t tell her no. “Sure,” he nodded and walked to the table to gather his tablet. “I just need to configure this to pick up any equipment that’s transmitting data right now.” He touched several buttons. His eyes squinted as he stared at the screen. “That’s odd.” Then he frowned. He put his finger up to his lip, signaling her to be quiet. He looked puzzled until he turned to her. And then he nodded.
    He took her hand and led her to his front door. Once they were on their shared porch he glared at her. Her feet absorbed the cold of the wood deck and she hopped from foot to foot. “There’s something transmitting in my apartment.”
    “But there is a lot of stuff in your apartment,” she whispered. She really didn’t understand how he could tell the