“You don’t have any more of those pain pills by chance, do you?” I ask. “My shoulder is really bothering me this morning.”
“Fuck… I’m sorry. I should have offered you some before bed last night. You probably would have gotten better sleep,” he says as he goes to his duffle bag to retrieve the drugs. I watch as he pulls out several more weapons, and a huge stack of money before locating the small vial of pills at the bottom.
“Wow, you have quite the wad of cash there.”
“I’m worried it won’t be even close to enough if Dex doesn’t get this sorted out.” He crosses to the sink to pour me a glass of water before coming to hand me two white pills. Only then does he add, “We can’t use any of our credit cards. Absolutely nothing that leaves an electronic footprint. I have a new set of credit cards that are clean, but I want to save those in case we have to get you relocated somewhere more permanent.”
I hate everything he is saying. Every aspect of my life up until now has revolved around my electronic footprint. Social media is not just a fun pastime. It’s my job. How I make my own income instead of depending only on my father’s money. To have him talking about being gone permanently rocks my world. There is only one thing I can think of that is worse. Once it crosses my mind, I have to ask.
“They are going to kill me if they find me, aren’t they?”
Z is just finishing pouring two cups of black coffee as I finish my question. That he remains silent and doesn’t turn around so I can see his face tells me all I need to know.
“Just say it,” I grind out, letting my anger take over. This is all so unfair. All I did was defend myself.
I see the answer in his brown eyes when he turns, but I appreciate that he doesn’t lie to me when he speaks. “Yes. They’re going to do their best to make you pay with your life, but I swear to you, Rowan. I’m not going to let that happen.”
I want to shout that he is just one man. How the hell can he keep me safe against an entire mafia family? Still, more than anything, I want to believe him, which only scares me more because I realize that he is prepared to lay down his own life to protect me. I feel guilty about that, but there is no denying that deep down it feels good to know that at least on some level, he does care about me.
“So don’t worry. I’m good at my job.”
Oh yeah. I’m just a job to him. I wonder if he kisses all of his clients like he did me last night?
We are just finishing eating the misshapen pancakes that I’ve somehow managed to make when his phone starts ringing. Our eyes meet across the breakfast bar just before he presses a button on the phone.
“Morning,” he says, knowing it’s Dex at the other end of the line since he’s the only one with the number.
“We have a new problem.”
I’m grateful he put the call on speaker phone so I can hear.
“Okay. Lay it on me.”
“Carlos Lopez just checked into the thirteenth floor. He did not have a reservation.”
I have no idea who Carlos Lopez is, but I know I don’t like him based on the look on Z’s face.
“Shit, that was fast. I’m guessing the contract is already active then?”
What contract? Even though I can hear everything they are saying, I still don’t know what they are talking about.
“Yep,” Dex confirms.
“I guess we should be happy he didn’t make it an open job, or we’d have assassins crawling out of the woodwork since I’m sure he’s offering a pretty penny,” Z adds.
“Atlas chatted with Carlos for a few minutes, trying to pump him for info. The bastard isn’t even hiding the fact he already got a half-million retainer with another half-million when the job is finished.”
“Fuck.”
Assassins. Contracts. I’m not stupid.
“He’s paying someone a million dollars to kill me?” I hate the way my voice squeaks, like I’m a scared little girl.
“You shouldn’t have put the call on speaker phone,” Dex scolds Z.
“She has a right to know. It’s her life, and she needs to know the score.”
As horrified as I am at the news that there is an actual assassin being paid to hunt me down and kill me, I’m grateful Z isn’t treating me with kid gloves.
“If you say so,” Dex answers before pumping Z for info. “Do you have a plan?”
“As much as I can at this point. We’ll stay here until nightfall and then head out. We’ll switch cars. That’s about all I want to tell you. The less you know the better.”