“What?” I asked, somewhat tersely.
“Who is she?” Lia asked again. “I don’t like the evasiveness here.”
My hands were shaking just slightly. I could tell by the look in her eye that she wasn’t going to let it go. I was going to have to tell her something, and once I did, she was going to wish she’d never asked.
“She was a hooker,” I said, hoping that would be enough. “Those are the kind of girls I’m used to—hookers.”
Lia narrowed her eyes a bit.
“She doesn’t look like a hooker. She’s all dressed up.”
“Christ, Lia—drop it before I actually tell you!”
“Tell me what?”
I dislodged myself from her grip and went to the closet for my duffel bag of weapons.
“Evan-”
“I have to go to work,” I said. I brushed her aside as I grabbed my Beretta and holstered it under my arm. As I moved toward the door, I made the mistake of looking back at her eyes.
The look on Lia’s face tore at my heart. I didn’t want her to know any of this. I didn’t even want her to know Bridgett ever existed, and now she was pushing me for the real story—a story that was going to scare the shit out of her.
Maybe she should know. Maybe she has a right to know what I did.
“She betrayed me,” I said quietly. “I killed her.”
I turned around and left the apartment.
Nothing I did after that was right.
Chapter 18—Double Cross
It was nine-thirty in the evening, and I was scouting out the best position for sniping on the rooftop near the drop-off location. I wasn’t actually planning on doing any shooting—I had no target selected, and Gavino had ordered me here just for the sake of protecting the group if something went wrong, but I already knew it was going to go to hell in a handbasket shortly after midnight, and I wasn’t going to save them from that.
Trent said he had a whole SWAT team at the ready, and they would be there just in time to catch Gavino Greco and his collection of illegally imported human slaves. He’d go away for life if he was lucky. I was at a safe enough distance that I wasn’t concerned about being caught up in the bust, assuming Trent wasn’t planning on sending someone to my location to grab me.
Of course, I wasn’t where I told him I was going to be. I was on top of a funky, S-shaped condominium complex on the other side of the river. It had a better view and a lot more cover than the building near the substation next to the rail yard, but mostly, it was a perfect location because it was not where Trent thought I would be.
The more I had thought about his obvious deception during our last conversation, the more I was convinced he planned on screwing me over. He’d go back on the deal and have me arrested along with the rest of them. Maybe he’d try to keep me under his thumb and use me again, and maybe he’d just let me rot, but he definitely wasn’t planning on keeping our agreement. I was sure of it.
I found the perfect spot and got myself set up near the railings at the top of the building. There were a few little garden areas around, as well as some tables and chairs for residents, but the area was closed after nine and no one was about. There was also easy access back down to the ground via a long flight of stairs that led to the parking lot. I pulled the Barrett out of its bag and quickly assembled it, carefully going through a complete functions check. I made sure there was a bolt in the chamber before sitting back and eating the sandwich I had tucked away in the bag.
No reason to kill on an empty stomach.
I tapped my foot against the ornately tiled roof, checked the night-vision scope to make sure everything was functioning correctly, and sat back again. I didn’t mind the waiting—I was used to it—but this little mission had a different feel than most. Assuming everything went well, it could very well be my last. It was what I wanted.
At least, I thought it was what I wanted.
Reaching out, I slid my hand down the barrel of the Barrett and wondered if I could be completely satisfied using it only for target practice at a shooting range. It was what Lia wanted, and I understood completely. I mean, what woman would actually choose to live with a guy who was a killer?
If I stopped shooting people, would that mean I wasn’t a killer anymore?
I wasn’t so sure.
Eleven o’clock. I scanned the entire area using the night-vision scope and saw nothing out of the ordinary. This area of town was becoming more and more run-down, and not a lot of people were around this time of night. Even the condos beneath me were mostly empty.
Across the river, there was a large building in the center of a huge concrete slab that served as a parking and storage area for a large power substation. There were a few other outbuildings around, a handful of vehicles, and the substation itself. Around the edge near the river were a few short trees and shrubs, as well as a fence that lined the property but didn’t disrupt my view from up high.