He paused, then nodded. “Okay. I promise.”
“And not just on your father’s honor. You have to promise on your mother’s safety.”
“Are you threatening my mother?” He pulled a face. “Maybe she wouldn’t like you after all.”
“And you also have to promise on the memory of your dead girlfriend too.”
Enzo’s eyebrows rose in question. “Why her?”
“Because I think she’s the last person you actually loved.” He flinched, proof enough Charity was right. “What was her name?”
He seemed to chew on the word before finally speaking. “Kitra.”
Kitra. Now Charity had a name for the woman Enzo loved. She’d been beautiful, no doubt. Probably dark-haired and cultured. The opposite of Charity in every way.
Charity tried to banish the image her mind created of an elegant, smiling woman. “Do you promise on your father’s honor, your mother’s safety, and Kitra’s memory that you’ll never hurt me, my family, or do anything that would help the government catch us?”
“Yes.” No hesitation. No detectable deception. “Although I can’t vouch for anything I’ll say if the authorities give me truth serum.”
“Do they use that on their own officers?”
“Not unless they think you’re lying.”
“Then I guess it’s fortunate you’re such a good liar.”
“I’m going to pretend that’s a compliment.”
She got the scissors and cut through the rest of the tape on his arms and his feet. When that was done, she took the handcuff key from her pocket. Her hands trembled from nerves, making it hard to insert the key. He’d given her his word not to hurt her. She’d be fine. With a click and a twist, the cuffs loosened on his wrists.
He sat up stiffly and shook out his arms, opening and shutting his hands. “Thank you. That’s much better.”
She slid the key back into her pocket, then picked up the chair and put the scissors and handcuffs on the counter. “I’m relying on your honor and your common sense. I can’t keep youhere by force or watch you all of the time. If you want to walk out the door, you can.
“I know you’ll be tempted to run away as soon as the feeling comes back to your body, but don’t do it. The wilderness isn’t safe, only the cabin is. To be protected, we have to stay here for two weeks like the vision instructed. Do you understand?”
“I understand.” He gingerly touched a spot on his head just under his hairline. When his hand left his head, a spot of blood colored his fingers.
“What happened?” she asked in alarm.
“I hit my head on the floor when I fell over.” He touched the spot again and grimaced.
He might have a concussion. “You should have told me.” She went to the bathroom and retrieved the first aid kit. When she came back, he was taking ice cubes out of the freezer and dropping them into a dish towel.
She checked to make sure his pupils dilated and pulled out a tube of antibiotic ointment. “Let me see the wound.”
He tilted his head down so she could see the spot. “You can’t stop yourself, can you?”
She parted his hair to reveal a swollen lump oozing with blood. “Stop myself from what?”
“Stop yourself from taking care of people.”
She dabbed ointment on the wound. “If you died of infection, the government would have one more reason to hunt us.”
He gave her an assessing look. “This is why you had so much trouble at the market when you had to kill slavers. It isn’t that you’re weaker than Milo and Zia. It’s that you want to help people. Burning and shooting them goes against your nature.”
Why was he telling her this? “You’ve figured me out, have you? Is that part of your police training?”
“To be effective, you’ve got to know who you’re dealing with.”