Whatever answer to the look question died in her throat. Unlike many, the idea of Frank Castle moving in on them, closer, staring them down, it didn't scare her. He'd assured her he wasn't going to kill her. She'd taken his word that day and never once doubted it.

Staring up at him, keeping her gaze on his face and not the broad expanse of bare chest and little else on.

"It's my job, Frank. So don't what? Don't know? Don't assume that's why you're here? Explain to me what it is I'm not supposed to be doing?" She took chances, but challenging Frank never felt like one. Even if the worst thing that could happen - that he might leave - bothered her more than she would ever fear him.