He shrugged, took a drag. “Not at all.”
“Maybe you should. She’s not even involved in the game.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“I think it does.”
He stubbed the cigarette out and flicked the butt toward the street. “Nasty habit,” he said. “Shouldn’t have taken it up.”
“Find out why he wants her dead.”
He stood up and shook his head. “I know why they want her dead. The Doyles are getting stronger and the Pakhan thinks they can start to scare them off by killing some minor family members. The girl’s just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “You really believe that?”
“Doesn’t matter what I believe.”
“It’s a crock of shit. There are a ton of better targets, plenty of minor cousins out on the streets, but he chose her for a reason.”
“He’s not paying you to question, Mack. Go in that bar and kill the girl or we’ll send someone else without all your annoying habits.”
I grinned and stretched. “You love my annoying habits. They keep me alive.”
“Sometimes I wish they wouldn’t. Go do your job, asshole.” He walked off, hands shoved in his pockets.
I watched him go, my smile slowly fading away.
Fiona should’ve left the city already. If she had any brains in that pretty head, she would’ve hopped on the first bus or train or borrowed a car or done whatever it took to get the hell far away from here.
And yet she hadn’t listened.
Maybe I hadn’t made my point—though then again, I got the feeling she believed me as she came on my fingers.
So she was sticking around for a different reason.
I followed her to Washington Park the day before. She met with someone, but I couldn’t get a good view of him—their backs were to me the whole time—and when she walked away, she was visibly upset about something.
Could’ve been an old boyfriend, but I didn’t think so.
I stood up and sighed, cracking my neck, then my knuckles, then my back.
This whole job was complicated from the start. German didn’t like me asking questions and kicking the hornet’s nest, but I couldn’t help myself. When the boss assigned me to kill a man, typically it was obvious why he had to be removed from the board.
In this case though, it was a mystery, and I didn’t like mysteries.
I was a man that preferred things honest.
I crossed the street and pushed into Fiona’s place of business. I didn’t bother trying to hide this time and sat down at the bar. Fiona spotted me right away and her face turned bright red, but she ignored me while she filled a couple glasses of wine and passed them over to an older couple drinking together.
She finally came over reluctantly.
“What can I get for you?” She wiped her hands on a towel nervously.
“Whiskey, please.”
She hesitated, frowned at me, but got the drink. I sipped it and put cash on the table with a very generous tip.
She stared at the hundred-dollar bill. “What the hell is that?”
“That’s a hundred dollars. Consider it a bribe or a down payment, whatever you like.”
“Down payment for what?”
“For you getting the fuck out of my city.” I leaned toward her, eyes narrowing, jaw flexing.
She stared back with surprise then snatched the money. “I’m not going anywhere, so unless you plan on killing me, can you please just leave me the hell alone?”
“No, thanks. There’s a reason you won’t get the hell out of here and now I’m curious.”
“Great, good for you. What I do is none of your business.”
“Actually, it’s entirely my business, considering I’ve been hired to murder you.”
She grimaced and looked around. The girl on my right gaped at me, and I gave her my best charming smile.
“He’s kidding,” Fiona quickly said.
I shrugged and leaned toward the girl. She as young, maybe mid-twenties, with a low-cut top and way too much lip gloss. “I’m a hitman, but don’t tell anyone, okay?” I winked and sipped my drink.
The girl laughed then turned her back to me and whispered with her friend.
“Can you just get out of here?” Fiona hissed, leaning toward me across the bar.
“Tell me why you won’t leave the city, and I’ll get you off again like I did the other night.”
Her mouth fell open, but she quickly gathered herself. “I’m serious, Mack. I’ll get my manager to call the cops.”
“You remember my name. That’s got to mean something.” I tilted my head. “Was that night our first date? Did we fall in love? It’s a good story, I can’t wait to tell our kids how we first met. ‘See, sweetie, Daddy followed Mommy after work, stole her phone, then almost killed her, but finger-fucked her on South Street and got her off instead.’ Beautiful, really. Someone should write a romance novel about it.”
Fiona’s face turned bright red, as if it weren’t bad enough, and she slammed her hands down on the bar. “Enough,” she hissed. “Can you please fuck off?”