“Start anywhere. Doesn’t matter to me.”
“I’m an orphan,” he said. “Went through the system.”
“Foster parents?”
“Long string of them,” he said. “Then I got adopted when I was fifteen. Nice couple out in the suburbs, really tried their hardest with me, you know?”
“You didn’t…” I trailed off.
He laughed. “God, no. I don’t just murder people. Jesus, Elise.”
I spread my hands. “How am I supposed to know that?”
“Whatever. They were nice people, okay? I rebelled hard, got involved with some pretty nasty people. I ran away a year later, ended up living on the streets in the city. Kept to myself but formed a little tribe, you know what I mean? Hit some hard times in those days until I met a guy named… I’ll call him Dan.”
“Dan?”
“Sure,” he said. “Dan. Anyway, Dan was involved with the mafia. Mostly stole stuff, petty crimes, that sort of shit. But one day Dan caught wind of a contract out for this guy named… I’ll call him Todd.”
“Dan and Todd,” I said.
“Todd was a junky and stole a lot of cash from a Leone establishment. The Don put out a bounty on his head, five hundred dollars. In retrospect, that wasn’t a lot, but it felt like a fortune to me then.”
“So you found him and killed him?”
“In a nutshell,” I said. “Dan did the heavy lifting. Tracked the guy down and all that. But when the time came to actually do the killing, Dan got cold feet. But I didn’t.”
My heart raced. I stared and tried not to let him see the fear in my eyes.
The kettle whistled. I jumped and put my hand on my chest. “Shit,” I said.
“Good timing,” he said.
I got two mugs, dropped a black tea bag in each, and filled them with water. I slid his mug to him then returned to my spot.
“So you killed Todd.”
“I killed Todd,” he said. “And I realized it wasn’t that hard. I mean, I didn’t like it. Had nightmares for a week. But when the Leone family put out another bounty, I went after it hard. Then I did another… and another… and soon the family came directly to me when they had work. Things took off from there.”
“So you just stumbled into killing people.”
“More or less.”
“Lucky you.”
“I know you’re being sarcastic, but I am lucky.” He dunked his bag in and out of the water. “I was on a bad path back then. I don’t think I’d be alive right now if I kept on it. Killing people isn’t exactly a great job, but the people I’m sent after tend to really deserve it.”
“And me?” I asked. “You think I deserve it?”
He stopped dunking and looked at me. “No, I don’t,” he said.
“I guess that’s why I’m alive.”
“You’re right.” He took the bag out, looked around, dropped it onto the counter.
I made a face, picked it up, and wiped the excess tea up with a sponge. I tossed the teabag into the trash then threw away my own.
“I should be flattered,” I said.
“You should be,” he agreed. “But you’re not.”
“Have you ever refused a job before?”
“No,” he said. “They’ve never deserved it.”
“Come on. You’re telling me they’ve all been assholes?”
“I’m typically hired to kill men that did very bad things,” he said. “Men that killed, stole, hurt someone. It’s not often I get sent after an innocent girl that’s caught in a game of power politics.”
“So you’re a killer with a heart of gold.”
He sipped his tea. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
I let my eyes move along his muscular arms then up to his lips, his teeth, his eyes. I shivered as I thought of the way he made me feel just the night before.
I still ached for him between my legs.
“I’m going to my room for a while,” I said.
“Fine.”
“Do whatever you what,” I said. “There’s food. Take whatever.”
“Sounds good. I’ll cook dinner.”
I shook my head and carried my tea out of the kitchen. I felt his eyes on my body as I walked down the hall, into my room, and shut the door behind me.
I stared at the lock on the handle. It clicked when I turned it.
I sat on my bed and held the mug between my hands. I stared down at the dark black tea and let the steam rise to my lips. I sipped it and tried to picture how bad life would have to get before I’d resort to murdering people for a living.
Pretty bad.
But his story touched off something in me. It wasn’t pity. I don’t think I could pity a man like that.
Understanding though. Maybe a touch of understanding.
It didn’t change anything.
He was a killer and a monster.
But maybe I really could start to trust him.7TannerHer couch was lumpy as hell.
The couch was gorgeous. Low wooden legs. Smooth light gray material. It had all the makings of a really fantastic and comfortable sleep.