I toss and turn unable to sleep feeling a tightness in my chest , and a worry of something coming. I sigh climbing out of bed.
The penthouse is bathed in the cool, blue glow of the city skyline, the only other light coming from the dim amber LEDs under the kitchen cabinets.
I move like a ghost across the hardwood, the silk of my pajamas whispering against my legs.
Marcus isn't on the couch.
I find him out on the balcony again, but this time he’s not just looking at the stars.
He’s stripped off his t-shirt despite the biting cold, and he’s hunched over a small table, a cleaning kit spread out in front of him. In the moonlight, the tattoos on his back look like a moving map of shadows as he rhythmically, almost meditatively, wipes down the components of a disassembled firearm.
He does
