The Hit (Team Zulu 1)

Intense hazel eyes met mine. “Franky asked me to kill you, Cameron. And I’m not blowing smoke up my own ass here when I tell you I’m really fucking good at my job. It would’ve been easy, so easy, to get away with it. Use your energy to keep yourself alive. You might need it yet.”

My gut lurched.

When Shep took in my wary expression, he lowered his chin. “I didn’t mean from me, all right?”

I swallowed deeply. “It’s hard not to think that.”

He rubbed his eyes before slamming the laptop shut. “It’s pointless doing this right now. I’m so damn tired I can’t think straight, and everything I say is coming out wrong. We can talk more in the morning when both of our heads will be clearer.” He stood but remained facing me. “I’m sorry if hearing the truth upset you. I’m just exhausted and pissed about a lot of things.”

Not knowing what to say, I blinked and nodded, accepting his apology without words. I still had questions for him. So many questions. I wished we could sort this entire mess out here and now.

Shep headed for the back of the house. “Come on, I’ll get you set up.”

I limped after him and paused at the entrance to the bedroom.

“Bed’s yours,” he said in a gruff tone that made me think he was uncomfortable dealing with the sleeping arrangements.

“Where will you be?” I looked behind me and down the hallway, but I didn’t spot another bedroom.

“On the floor.” He glanced at an area between the bed and the door.

“No.” I shook my head. “Not in here.”

He flinched a little. “Yes, in here. This ismyroom.”

“That won’t work. You have the bed. I’ll take the sofa.” I moved to grab a pillow from the bed, but he blocked my way with his massive wall of a body.

“Didn’t ask for your opinion on this,” he said.

I didn’t back away. “Yeah. I’m noticing a theme here because you haven’t asked for my opinion on anything.”

A muscle twitched near his eye while he stared me down. “You’re on the bed. I’m on the floor. End of story.”

I folded my arms. “This won’t go well if you keep being an overbearing jerk.”

Shep mimicked my pose. “Never expected it to.”

We held a five-second glare-off before I stomp-limped around him on my way to the bathroom. “Fine. Whatever.”

I slammed the door behind me. With palms pressed to my hot cheeks, I took several deep breaths to calm my anger.

The bed situation sucked, but I could do it. It wasn’t like I had a choice. Hitman or not, if he tried any funny business during the night, I’d twist his balls off.

After snooping through the cabinet and finding nothing strange, I gargled mouthwash, then used the amenities. When I emerged, I went to the far side of the bed, yanked the covers back, and hopped in.

Shep stood near the doorway watching me, his jaw locked firm. He should have more wrinkles for someone who wore a perpetual frown.

Facing away from him, I flopped my head on the pillow and refused to acknowledge that it smelled kind of nice, soap and a hint of pine. I picked it up and flipped it over before resettling.

Shep’s footsteps thudded as he left the room.

He returned a short time later making an ominous jangling sound. My eyes shot open.

Oh, hell no!

I sprang up and shimmied back as far as I could, bumping my shoulders against the metal frame of the headboard.

“No, no, wait!” I held up my hands. “You don’t need those. I can’t run!”