For the Thrill

by Nora Flite

  Any suspicion I had that Kite's friend and fellow owner was in on things was confirmed. It didn't shock me much. I had noted the bluetooth that day in the park. Having someone to help made sense. “You're a hitman too, then,” I said.

  They shared a look. I witnessed Kite's surprise. “Fuck. You were right, she didn't know that part.”

  “Relax,” Jacob said. He gave me a cool, considering look. “She would have found out. It doesn't matter right now. Tell us why you're here, Miss Marina.”

  Though I wondered about my safety, I was starting to feel... in control. “Kite, he—or I guess both of you—murdered Frank Montego eight months ago. I need your help for something similar.”

  “You want us to kill someone for you.” Jacob laid it out, not blinking.

  Swallowing more of my drink, I used it to arrange a response. This was the part I was worried about. “No. Not exactly.”

  Kite folded his arms into a knot. “I don't know many ways to not exactly kill a person. Dead tends to be it.” His companion sent him a meaningful glare. Kite ignored Jacob, too busy frowning at me.

  Reaching for my purse, I started to dig with my free hand. “Let me—” Loud, metallic clicking erased my voice. Gingerly, I raised my eyes and saw Jacob had a gun aimed at me. I couldn't look anywhere else.

  “Move slower,” he advised. “And take your hand out of your purse.”

  There was a loud whine in my ears. “I don't have a weapon. It's just money.”

  Kite came my way, bending so close I could see the lashes over his black eyes. They were richer than mine, and I'd always thought I'd had dark irises. His scent was smoke and oil. “I told you,” he whispered. Tiny hairs flew up on my skin. “Coming here was reckless.”

  Strong, agile fingers scraped down my ribs. I felt a shocked cry bubbling up. Jacob put a finger to his lips across the room, telling me to be quiet. “What are you doing?” I hissed.

  “Checking you for a wire,” Kite said. He lifted my sweater, displaying my tanned belly to them both. The pink cloth of my bra, the tops of my breasts, soon followed.

  My entire face—my whole being—was on fire. “I'm not a cop,” I said. “You don't need to do this.”

  Kite stared at me, and I wished I knew what he was thinking. Nothing in his glossy pupils swayed in any direction. “No wires,” he said, glancing at Jacob. He took my purse, and I had a second where I debated cracking him in the temple with my glass. I didn't. I just stayed still with Jacob's barrel on me. He hadn't removed it. Are they going to kill me after all? I wondered.

  Kite lifted an envelope from my purse. I saw his eyes flash; knew he was praying I was stupid enough to bring the letter I'd spoken about. Opening it, he fingered the stacks of money with a frown. “You really were planning to hire me.”

  “Both of you, now,” I said weakly.

  They glanced at me, then back to the cash. “How much is it?” Jacob asked.

  “It's only fifteen grand.” Shoving it back in the envelope, Kite nodded my way. “You don't know much about us, do you?”

  My neck was starting to cramp from not moving. “I told you, I only saw you kill Frank. I thought you might know an accomplice of his.”

  Jacob lowered the gun, freeing me of some of my tension. “Wait. You wanted a friend of the man we killed to also be murdered?”

  “Yes.” I risked itching my nose. My hair had tickled it for the past minute. “If you killed Frank, you possibly know someone he worked with years ago. That's the man I want dead.”

  “The man you want us to not exactly kill,” Kite mumbled.

  Narrowing my eyes, I purposefully took a sip of my watery drink. Neither of the men reacted, the gun stayed down. “Right, I don't want you to kill him. I want you to help me find him, and then you can let me pull the damn trigger.”

  Now, I had their attention.

  Taking my purse from Kite, Jacob checked it. He didn't say what he was searching for. Satisfied, he tossed it my way—the money still inside. “I'm sorry to say we no longer take on contracts. If we don't accept your cash, what will you do?”

  Catching my bag, I spilled some of my drink. “You're asking because you want to know if I'll turn you in, yeah?” I stared at them from under my hair. “You want to know if I'll blackmail you into helping me.”

  Kite didn't smile, but Jacob did. “I'm asking because I'm curious. If we say no, what is your next step?”

  My chin touched my collar bone. “I won't lie. I didn't have much of a plan B.”

  “Why not take that money, go buy a gun and off the fucker yourself?” Kite asked.

  “I would. I was going to do that to Frank,” I admitted. “But I... don't know where the guy I want is. Or even his name.”

  Air 'whooshed' out of Kite's nostrils. Dropping his arms, he grabbed his slim hips and looked down his nose at me. “You don't know his name? That's fantastic. Even if you had the money we charge for a hit, you'd need a photo and a name, minimum.”

  My drink was empty, ice cubes clinking and melting. “I know what he looks like. If I saw him, I could recognize him.”

  Jacob was in front of me. Shit, I hadn't seen him move. He was a shadow, but the strange calmness in his eyes was... fuzzy. “I'm sorry, but we don't know anything about Frank Montego's companions. When we take on a hit, we don't ask for those details.”

  I was deflated. I almost preferred the obvious danger to this pity. “But you could find out more than I could. You've got to have connections, know people... that stuff.”

  “Marina,” Kite said, leaning on the wall. “I think Jacob made it clear. We're out of the game. Your money can't buy us.”

  Jacob was watching me like a hawk. I felt very small, and didn't like it. “I don't want to hire you to kill someone. I told you, I want to do it myself. Can't you take what I have and accept it as a reasonable fee for finding my target?”

  “Target.” Kite's forehead was a row of deep lines. “Target? You're not a god damn assassin, don't act like you know the lingo. And we are not fucking bloodhounds. We can't—”

  “Alright.” Jacob lifted an arm, effectively shutting Kite up. The red-haired man balked, and I suspected this wasn't normal. “Marina,” he said, bending closer to me. The gun was still in his hand, I didn't enjoy having it so close. “I need to talk the details over with Kite. But, if we accept your payment, and we agree to help find this man... there will be conditions. Understand?”

  My mouth was very dry. Why did I run out of vodka tonic? “What conditions?”

  Turning enough to peer back at Kite, the man in his crisp grey suite smiled. “I'll need to talk it over with my associate. We'll come to an agreement. Just give us some time alone to reach a mutual understanding.”

  Kite's glare said he didn't want to come to any breed of understanding. “Alright,” I said softly. What choice do I have? I asked myself. Let them work out what's fair. If I can get close to the gap-toothed monster, it'll be possible to reach some closure.

  For the second time that night, I was left alone with my thoughts.

  - Chapter Five -

  Jacob

  The hallway was humming. Grabbing Kite by the shoulder, I shoved him into our cramped, poor excuse for an office. It had nothing but filing cabinets, a white board, and a tiny computer in one corner.

  It would work for us.

  “What the hell are you thinking?” he snapped at me, yanking out of my reach. “You can't just agree to this shit without my say!”

  Smoothing my sleeve, I then folded it up my forearm. The other followed. “You're right, but I needed to make her think we were going to work with her.”

  “Think?” he scoffed. “You told her we were!”

  “I told her that so she wouldn't decide to run off to the cops the instant she was out of our sight. Kite, we need time to think.” Furrowing my brows, I sat in the computer chair. “Calm yourself down and listen to reason.”

  Roughly, he scratched at his hair with both hands. “Fuck! I'm just pissed—how
did this happen? All these years, and we mess up on the final hit? This girl actually sees me do it?”

  My fingers clicked on the keyboard. “Doesn't matter how it happened. It matters that it did. Right now, as long as she has this letter—if it exists—she's got us by the balls. Even if it isn't real, everyone saw her walk into our bar. They saw you talk to her, saw you take her to the backroom. This can't be solved tonight.”

  “So what do we do?” Kite asked, moving back to my side. “Torture her until she tells us where the damn thing is, or who has it?”

  Torture. That wasn't something we commonly indulged in. A few times, when we were bouncers, we'd been tipped extra to get a little 'rough' with some customers the owner didn't like. Beyond that, while I thought we were capable of such things... “No. It's too hard to control. What if we go too far before she talks? We don't know how long before someone reports her missing. What we need is more details about our new friend.”

  Spinning the screen, I showed him what I was doing. The website listed the headline in giant, bold letters: Fidel family massacre. Only one survivor. Kite gawked at me. “Wait,” he said. “No way, is this her family? How did you know her last name?”

  “I looked at her ID when I was digging in her purse.” I knew there were no weapons when Kite hadn't mentioned any. I'd had other motives. “Marina Fidel, it's her alright.”

  Together, we leaned in to read the article. It was a brutal story, and though they never said Marina's name, we could figure the pieces out.

  A mother, a father, and a daughter only nine years old. All of them, executed in their home. There was evidence of rape, and the time of death showed the father died last. No leads on the suspects, and the only connection was the Fidel family business being burned to the ground the same night.

  One survivor. It didn't list how she managed to get out alive, just that she existed.

  My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. “Now we know we don't have to worry about any immediate family. Jesus, that's pretty grim.”

  “I get why she wants revenge,” Kite said softly. Shaking himself, he turned away from the screen. “It says this happened sixteen years ago. She had to have been a child. To hold a grudge this long... Frank Montego, he was really involved in this?”

  “If what she said was true, yes. Him, and whoever this mystery man she wants to have the honor of killing.”

  Kite rubbed the bridge of his nose furiously. “Ugh. That's the part that won't work. If we did take this on, I think we could find her guy eventually. Reading up on Frank, his habits and hang-outs. If he worked with someone to kill the Fidels, someone else has to know. A massacre, a business burning? Not subtle. There's a trail the cops didn't find—or chose not to. We get his name, then killing the bastard ourselves would be a cinch.”

  Kite was always so confident. I could see the gears in his head turning, the familiarity and intoxicating lure of planning and executing a hit. I didn't want him getting ideas. “It doesn't matter. What we need is time so we can fix everything.”

  “Fix it how?” He lifted himself onto the desk, perching there. “I can't believe her. I thought she was some sweet, eager little thing ready to have a good time.”

  My smile was crooked. “You still think she's into you?”

  His eyes flashed. “Doesn't matter how into me she is or isn't. I don't like being blackmailed. And I don't like that you got dragged into this.”

  Clapping my hand onto his shoulder, I chuckled. “Our oath means everything, Kite. We don't just share the good stuff. We agreed to share the bad, too. I was in this from the start.”

  My friend—my closest friend—gave my fingers a quick squeeze. “I know, man. I know what our blood oath means. But what do we do about this mystery letter?”

  In my pocket, the gun was comforting. “That's what we need to change. First, we'll do what I said. We'll take her money, we'll find this man for her—or waste as much time as we can trying. I doubt she'll know the difference.” Standing, I towered over him. “If we stay close to Marina, we can find out where she has the letter or who might know about it. Hopefully, no one else. Once we get it, we won't have to worry about her anymore. She might even go get herself snuffed out for us if she tries to assassinate this guy. If not, we'll find the right way to get rid of her without it being traced to us.”

  Crossing his ankles, Kite peered up at me thoughtfully. “You mean it. You want us to entertain her for as long as we need to... then we just kill her?”

  I lifted my pistol free and checked the safety. “Yes. And then we kill her.”

  Protecting our future was what mattered.

  Marina Fidel had no idea who she was dealing with.

  ****

  She was reclining in a booth when we walked in. Sitting up sharply, Marina smoothed her skirt and crossed to meet us. “What did you decide?” she asked excitedly.

  Reaching out, I opened my palm. “We're compassionate people. Fifteen grand, and we'll help you find this man.”

  Marina peeked over my shoulder. I knew she was eyeing Kite. “No. That's not enough.”

  “Not enough?” Kite stammered.

  My fingers remained open in front of Marina. “What else do you think your money should buy?”

  Gently, like my hand was a bear-trap, she put the envelope in it. She didn't let go. “I need lessons. I need you guys to show me how to kill. Otherwise, I'll never get close enough to do anything.”

  Waiting for her to release the money, I let myself smile. “Fine. We also have stipulations for our own safety.”

  Conceding the exchange, her small hands drifted to her hips. “Safety? What are you worried about?”

  This second part had been Kite's plan, and I thought it rather ingenious. “Listen, Marina,” he said. “We don't do things this way. It's always been a faceless transaction. You know you've got a little extra something up your sleeve keeping us in check.” The dark-haired woman said nothing. “Even if you aren't wired, we have no proof you aren't secretly some cop trying to catch us in the act, or planning to kill us for some crazy reason.” That made her mouth pop open, but Kite didn't slow down. “Until this is over, we need to keep you under surveillance. You'll be moving in with us.”

  The noise she made was very, very rude. “Excuse me? I can't just move out of my place and into yours! I'm surprised you guys live together at all, really.”

  Her implication had us exchanging a look. It wasn't the first time someone had insinuated that Kite and I had an inappropriate relationship. “We live in the same complex,” I explained. “But my place is above his. It's two different apartments.”

  “That doesn't make it better,” she mumbled.

  “Look at it from our point of view.” Tucking the envelope under my arm, I adjusted the front of my dress shirt. “You barged in here threatening us. You want us to risk our peaceful, happy lives for you. If that's what we have to endure, we want to make sure we can trust you, Marina.”

  Crossing her arms, the motion made her breasts plump up. It was funny, thinking about how under an hour ago, she'd been a potential hook-up. Now she was employing us. “And what if I say no?”

  “Then we don't train you, and you can go at this alone,” Kite said. It was pure bullshit; we couldn't let her walk away, knowing what she did.

  A hint of something sinister touched her scowl. “You're so worried you can't trust me. How would you react if I did use the letter to get my way? If I said help me, under my stipulation of me staying in my apartment, or I do go to the cops.”

  Tension flowed between us. I was debating my answer, but Kite spoke first. He moved forward, squinting down at Marina with a smirk so sharp it could cut bone. “I think you want this man dead more than you care about where you sleep at night. If you stay with us, we can prepare you to kill him much faster, much smoother. Isn't that better? Isn't it your real goal?” Reaching down, he lifted her hands, thumbs brushing over the blue veins on the backs. I knew this side of Kite, too.

  It w
as as dangerous as giving him a gun.

  “Marina,” he hushed softly. “We don't know when we'll find this guy. Work with us, and this way, we can ensure that you're ready to execute him flawlessly.”

  She'd stopped breathing. Marina noticed how she looked, dazed and doped up. Flushing, she yanked her arms away and scrubbed her left elbow. “I—fine. It's extreme, but fine. I get my own room, and you respect my space. Nothing weird goes down. You'll have to pay the rent I'll owe for ending my lease early, too. I paid you all the money I had.”

  “Done and done,” I said. “You can figure out the full moving logistics later. Personally, I think you'll like our homes.” Winking at her, I felt for the handle of my gun. I was happy I'd kept it in my duffel bag in the back office. It had come in handy. I had no plans to put a bullet in Marina tonight, but the sight of the pistol had sobered her and made her take us seriously.

  Not seriously enough, no.

  If she had, she'd never have made the mistake of coming here.

  Kite motioned with his chin at the exit. “Question. Does your place have security cameras?”

  She pulled the corner of her mouth between her teeth. “No. Few weeks back, someone had their scooter stolen from below their steps. Guy was pissed, but the apartment manager couldn't do a thing. People want cameras, for safety, but...” Shrugging, she looked uneasy. “The building looks like a motel, people come and go.”

  He's making sure there'll be no record of us there, I realized. Smart move.

  Nodding, Kite opened the doors. “We'll head there right now. Grab a few things you need, we can make another trip later for the rest.”

  “This is happening sort of fast.” Marina's tone was low. It made me wonder if reality was settling in and leaving her in shock. If so, she wouldn't handle what we had in store for her very well.

  Seeing her like that, the confident woman appeared suddenly frail. Call me insane for reaching out, trying to comfort a woman I had every intention of murdering, but—I couldn't help myself. Her sweater was soft, I secretly wished it had been her bare shoulder. “Marina, I know you're overwhelmed. You've walked into a situation I'm not sure you were ready for.”