The Hit (Team Zulu 1)

I poured us each a dash. The smooth, strong amber liquid erupted in my mouth, the heat spreading down my throat.

Cam downed hers fast. She coughed and her eyes widened. One hand fanned her reddening face.

“Oh Jesus,” she wheezed, her eyes red and watery. “It burns.”

“Yeah, a little. Haven’t you had whiskey before?”

“Only mixed with cola.” More coughing. “Oh, wow. That’s strong.”

“You can leave it.”

“No, I’m fine. I think I drank it too fast. On TV, they always throw it back in one shot. That’s clearly the wrong way to do it.” She laughed, finding the situation funny now the heat of the whiskey had lessened.

As easy as that, she made me smile. Those hard memories from moments ago were pushed aside and replaced with something beautiful. Something worth saving. A surge of protectiveness rushed through me. I hadn’t been able to help those people in the hospital, but I’d do everything I could to stop Franky from getting his hands on Cam.

She spun the tumbler on the table. “So, you still haven’t told me how you became a hitman.”

That part of my life was easier to discuss.

“I wanted a place of my own, but being in the military didn’t pay well enough to afford the space and privacy I needed. A brother I served with who knew my situation approached me. He’d done some work for the Mob and they offered him the job, but didn’t want it. He asked if I was interested. Turns out my particular skill set is well suited to contract killing. Wasn’t long before I could afford this property.”

Cam chuckled. “Crime pays then?”

“You have no idea.”

“You’ve got the thing you wanted.” She shrugged. “Why are you still a hitman?”

“It’s complicated.” I scratched the stubble on my jaw, not sure how much I should tell her.

“Go on.”

“Years ago, when I enlisted, all I wanted was to make a difference, fight to protect our country and those unable to help themselves. I may not have achieved what I wanted to in the Army, but perhaps I can make a difference stateside, one asshole at a time.”

She nodded, but whatever opinion she had on the matter she kept to herself. I never expected her to approve of what I did. Hell, even I didn’t like this thing I’d become.

Cam’s silence urged me to justify myself further. “And what else is someone like me good for? I’ve spent so many years in war zones I can’t unlearn my reactions to certain sights and sounds. I’m not wired like a normal person anymore. The civilian world is difficult for me to tolerate. Only place I belong is up here on my own, where I can’t freak out other people, and they can’t bother me.”

Her eyes shined with pity. I didn’t want that.

She wriggled in her seat. “I’ll admit you’re not the emotionless murderer I assumed you were. But Shep, you can’t play God. You shouldn’t get to decide who lives and who dies in this world.”

My eyes snapped to Cam’s. “I did with you.”

“And I’ll be forever grateful. I mean that.” A small smile formed on her lips. “You know, under that gruff exterior and moodiness, you’re a sweet guy. You just have a unique way of showing it.”

I swirled the whiskey in the tumbler. “Choosing not to kill someone isn’t sweet.”

“Maybe not. But you did a lot more than turn down my contract. I’d be dead right now if you hadn’t stepped up.” Her green eyes turned glassy. A heaviness pressed on my chest at her expression.

I nodded, but didn’t take my gaze from hers. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I guess it’s hard to contemplate how close I came.” She braced her hands on the dining table and stood. “Thank you for dinner. Dishes are mine. It’s the least I can do.”

“Wait up, I’ll help.”

She managed a small smile. “Okay.”

I helped her carry the plates to the kitchen and filled the sink with hot, soapy water. I washed and she dried. We worked in silence while she seemed deep in thought. I should say something to cheer her up, but I was useless at that sort of thing.