Ruthless Saints

Luckily, I didn’t act on my desire.

Desire. It’s another emotion that’s joined the many Hailey’s been making me feel.

My phone begins to ring, and digging it out of my pocket, I answer it. “Koslov.”

“It’s Madame Keller.”

She’s the architect of St Monarch’s, which is situated near Geneva. It’s where I received my training.

“I have a contract for you.”

“Anonymous?” I ask. That’s the only time a contract would come through St. Monarch’s as they act as a go-between as well. Madame Keller is the person you go to if you need information or protection. St. Monarch’s offers any service people like me might need, even emergency care if we’re shot. It’s one of the reasons I settled in Switzerland. I’m close to neutral ground should shit go sideways.

“Yes. I’ll send you the details. You have an hour to notify me if you’ll accept the contract. It’s urgent.”

“Okay.”

The call ends, and a couple of seconds later, the message comes through. I glance over the details.

Contract: Joseph Rudaj

Business: Drug trafficker

Time Sensitive: 24 Hours

Location: Zürich

Fee: €6 500 000.00

I text my reply.

Fee for up-close hit: €10 000 000.00

I won’t settle for anything less.

A couple of minutes later, the reply comes through.

Fee of €10 000 000.00: Accepted

I type out my response.

Contract on Joseph Rudaj: Accept

Glancing at Hailey’s cabin, I head home. Twenty minutes later, I walk into my armory, which doubles as my office. I take a seat in front of the screens and computers and check where last Rudaj was spotted.

I reach out to my contacts, and it takes an hour before one has information on Rudaj. Minutes after I’ve made the required payment, I receive photos of Rudaj hanging out at Gallary, a nightclub in Zürich. The information says it’s where he sells most of the heroin.

I check the address and memorize it.

Pulling up the map where the club is located, I study it until I know every escape route by heart.

I hate urgent contracts. It doesn’t leave any time for planning a long-distance shot. Winging it is definitely not my style. Neither are up-close kills.

Going to my room, I grab a black beanie, jeans, a gray t-shirt, and a leather jacket from my closet. I lay the outfit out on my bed, and heading to the bathroom, I use a beard trimmer to cut the bristles shorter until there’s only a dark shadow on my jaw.

I shower before changing into the outfit, then look at my reflection in the mirror. Satisfied that I’ll blend in with the clubbing crowd, I tuck my phone in my pocket and head out of the house.

I keep telling myself it’s worth the money as I make the three-and-a-half-hour drive to Zürich.

My thoughts drift from the contract to Hailey, and I wonder where she went today. I need to get a tracking device on her so I can check where she is.

The thought shudders through me.

Fuck, Carson.

A tracking device?

I shake my head and force myself to focus on the contract.

When I finally reach Zürich, I park a couple of blocks away from the club, which only opens at eleven pm. I walk to a nearby restaurant and ask for a corner table, so I’ll have a clear view of the interior and entrance. As I follow the hostess, I glance out of the windows and come to a sudden stop as I see Hailey walk by.

Without a word to the hostess, I spin around and rush out of the restaurant.

Christ, this is bad.

I should cancel the contract.

“Hailey,” I call as soon as I’m outside.

She glances over her shoulder. “Uh… yeah?” She narrows her eyes, and as I step closer, recognition dawns on her face. A smile flashes around her lips as her eyes widen. “Sorry, you look different.” Her gaze drifts over me, then she says with a teasing tone, “I didn’t think you owned anything else but black clothes.”

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

“I’m touring the rest of Switzerland on my off weekends. And you?”

I’m here to kill a drug dealer.

“Meeting a friend,” I lie.

The thought that she’s in Zürich makes panic creep into my chest. The emotion is more distracting than anything she’s made me feel to date.

Fuck.

Lifting a hand, I rub the back of my neck. “Where are you staying?”

“The Citizen hostel.” She shrugs. “It’s only for tonight, and it’s cheap.”

A fucking hostel?

My eyes lock with hers, and we stare at each other as I try to come up with a plan to get her out of Zürich.

Think, Carson.

Hailey reaches for my arm, placing her palm on my bicep. A concerned expression makes her smile fade. “You look worried. Is everything okay?”

That’s an understatement.

“You shouldn’t travel alone.” I let out a deep breath, the pressure in my chest building.

She’s such an easy target for flesh peddlers.

“I’ll be fine.”

I glance down at my watch and notice the club opens in thirty minutes.