by Sam Crescent
“Want to share a beer?” he asked, holding up the bottles.
“Really?”
“Don’t you want to know more about me?”
He wasn’t about to tell her a damn thing. Still, he wanted a beer, and he liked her company. She wasn’t like most women who demanded attention. Riley didn’t ask him if she looked good, and didn’t constantly check her appearance. What he really wanted was to take his dual lifestyle to the next level. He wanted to come home after a day of killing to the love of a good woman. But that wasn’t possible.
Boss had already called him and torn him a new asshole, or tried to for causing a stir at the bar. He didn’t give a shit about what Boss thought. All that mattered was the message that got across loud and clear—he had to leave Riley, and her bakery, alone. The cleanup crew had handled the aftermath in less than an hour. It was like the incident never happened, but Boss wouldn’t forget so easily.
She opened the back door, and now she was wearing some kind of long cardigan that covered up way too much.
Taking a seat on one of her deck chairs, he waited for her to take the bottle from him.
“This is new,” she said, a soft smile on her lips.
“What is?”
“You coming to pay a visit.”
Shadow didn’t consider himself the possessive or protective type, and yet he’d completely dominated Riley’s world. If she moved, he knew about it. Her privacy was completely gone, she simply didn’t know it yet.
Not that she’d ever know it.
This was a big mistake. Asking her for a beer. Taking care of her, getting to know her. It left a trail of evidence to who he was. Even as he knew it was a mistake and should be doing everything to leave, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
She made him … want. He wanted the fantasy, wanted Riley. How was it possible to go so long without realizing he was missing something?
“I’m sorry,” she said, startling him.
“Sorry?”
“You know, for today. I was a total bitch to you. I shouldn’t have been. You were helping me, and I wasn’t exactly the nicest person to be around,” she said. “You could have been hurt.”
“You watched me kill someone, and I don’t know if I’m happy that you’re not freaking out,” he said.
She chuckled, actually chuckled. He couldn’t believe it.
“You said it wasn’t the worst thing you’d seen.”
“We’ve gone over this,” she said. “You know I was on the streets between foster care. I don’t want to talk about that time. I don’t even think about it.”
“The cops, they were never on your side?”
“Some of them were okay. Others liked to give protection for a price. You can imagine what that price would be.”
Sex. It was the same old shit. He didn’t like it.
She smiled, and he found it to be such a sad one. He wanted to make her smile and for it to be real. Riley didn’t realize just how familiar he was with her sadness.
“I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
“It wasn’t so bad. I got street smart real fast. Others weren’t so lucky. They thought putting out would give them a better life. I was able to get by on my own.” She took a sip of her beer, and he couldn’t look away.
This woman was a fighter. She was strong, fierce, and determined. There was so much to admire about her, and of course, she was attracted to him, which was kind of funny.
“The gym you caught me going to,” he said. He may as well give her a little truth. “I work out there. A lot, actually. It’s got its fair share of broken kids. I’m trying to … mentor a few of them. To show them there’s another way. Violence isn’t always the answer.”
“Maybe it is.”
He looked at her, and she stared intently back at him. Her eyes were so green, even in the dim backyard lighting. “It shouldn’t have to be.”
“Just because we don’t want it to be, doesn’t mean it’s not. Some of the guys were determined to hurt me, to make me afraid. They used violence to try and control me. I used violence to show them I’m not to be messed with.” She looked down at her bottle. “Don’t take this personally, but violence seems to be part of your life. I’m pretty sure the guys around here couldn’t handle a knife or a gun the way you did. Why are you living in the suburbs?”
He wasn’t offended. Violence was his life. He was a contracted killer. Someone designed to take a life without asking a single question.
“I like the fakeness,” he said. “I don’t think that’s even a real word.” He blew out a breath. “Every single person on this street has something to hide, but it’s the American dream. It’s nice to blend into a crowd. To be normal.”
She laughed. “You don’t blend, Shadow. Every person sees you, and there’s no getting away from that.”
“Before you started snooping into my life, I went by undetected quite well.”
“I’ve looked bullshit in the face one too many times. You’ve got it all over you.” She held her hand out, pointing at his body. “I get it, though. We’re not part of this world. They can laugh with each other and in the next breath, stab each other in the back. I’ve never been a fan of that kind of crap. It’s a good thing what you’re doing—trying to show those kids another way. The world needs more of that. Most of the time they get pushed to one side, and no one gives a crap about them.”
He stared at her and knew no one had taken that time with her. She’d been alone in this world. Never part of it, and yet sucked into it by everyone else.
“You’re not alone anymore,” he said.
“I’m always alone, Shadow.” She finished her beer, and handed him back the bottle. “I need to get some rest. Thank you for the drink and the company.”
She went to walk away, but Shadow wasn’t ready for her to be gone. Reaching out, he snagged her wrist, stopping her from going anywhere.
Riley didn’t put up a fight with him. She waited for him to release her.
Standing up, he stepped close to her body. He felt such a rush, a desire he’d never experienced before. She tilted her head back to look at him, and for the longest time, he just stared.
Silence had always been a comfort to him. He could think, plan, and do anything that he put his mind to.
The interest in her gaze was still there. She wanted him, but was holding back.
He was making a mistake. Every second that he was with her, was a second longer than he should be. His life came with a use by date. There were people who’d hunt him down and kill him for the title of being the one to do it.
“Lock your door,” he said. “If you need anything at all, I’ll be here.”
She nodded. Her lips looked so tempting. He wanted to kiss her.
Would it be wrong to give in just this once and to take what he wanted? One kiss and then a second. A fuck, making love, falling in love. It would all happen. Riley had the power to make herself his weakness, and he couldn’t have that. No way. He couldn’t have that at all. He didn’t want to do that to her.
“Good night.” He pulled away, wanting to turn back and kiss those fuckable lips. He didn’t though.
After getting back home he went straight to the basement. Clicking on the screens, he saw her standing at her backdoor. She had her fingers to her lips.
Had she been imagining it, too?
Get your head out of your ass!
Boss had given him a job, and he needed to stop thinking about his sexy little neighbor, and focus on the job at hand.
Even as he berated himself, he couldn’t look away, nor could he turn the computer screen off. In that moment, leaning against the door, she looked so vulnerable. Everyone else in her world had walked all over her, taken advantage and not given a shit about her. Was it so wrong to want to be the only person who was different for her?
Chapter Five
Shadow leaned back on the worn leather sofa. The place reeked of a high school locker room, stale donuts, and cheap coffee. Norm
ally he handled his business with Maurice by phone or text, but his assignment was proving to be more complicated than he hoped.
“He’s had facial surgery, and I’ve already counted over a dozen body doubles,” said Maurice from his chair in front of the keyboard.
“We already know this,” said Shadow. He’d been doing recon on his mark for weeks, but the asshole was always one step ahead. Last night, Shadow had come seconds from pulling the trigger on a look-alike, only to discover it was another cold trail. It was too close of a call for his taste. “I need something I can use. Something that’ll give away the real target. Boss doesn’t want any mistakes.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Fuck. Tattoo, birthmark, something the doubles won’t have. I need to be one hundred percent certain before I blow his bastard’s brains to kingdom come.”
Maurice adjusted his glasses as hundreds of pics flashed across the numerous screens. “Give me a minute.”
Shadow tapped his foot. He was impatient about getting this job done, but also couldn’t get Riley off his mind. Since she barged into his life, he’d been slowly torn down the middle, his two worlds colliding. He needed his life at Killer of Kings—it was all he knew, and it kept the demons at bay.
Then there was her.
His carefully crafted veneer of normalcy helped him experience everything he’d lost, a life forever out of reach. He remembered the simplicity of having a drink with Riley under the stars. He could fall hard for a girl like her. As fucked up as it was, he already envisioned a future with his nosy little neighbor. They could play out all the fucking fairy tales, and scrub the past from their memories.
Only Shadow knew better. There was no going back, no happily ever after.
“You know Boss has me do a thorough background check on all his staff, right?”
Shadow narrowed his eyes, leaning over to rest his elbows on his knees. “What are you trying to say, Maurice?”
“Some of the reports say you’re a sociopath. That you have an attachment disorder so severe that you can’t function in normal society. Others call it PTSD.”
He ground his teeth. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Boss thinks you’re getting too close to one of your neighbors.”
“My personal life is none of Boss’s business. Or yours,” he said. “How about you do your fucking job and leave my past where it belongs? If you haven’t noticed, it’s been a long time since I was a little boy at the mercy of the system.”
His blood pressure rose to the point he could only hear his heart pounding in his ears. He usually kept his cool, but his past still managed to piss on his life and warp his thoughts. Shadow had been forced to watch his mother’s health deteriorate for years. Even in those final months, she refused to get medical help. Holed up in their tiny apartment, in the seediest part of the city, it had been just the two of them. When things got desperate, he resorted to stealing to bring food home. And painkillers. And cigarettes. He’d only been nine years old.
Then the years of foster care. The brutal beatings, the starvation, the lack of any affection. He’d gone through all the stages of hell until there was nothing left but emptiness.
He survived on the streets from thirteen onward, another miserable chapter of his fucked-up life. The more he reflected, the more his muscles tensed. When Maurice cleared his throat, Shadow realized his hands were in tight fists, his knuckles turned white.
“I just wanted to say that a report can’t define you. Sometimes they’re not worth the paper they’re written on.” Maurice gave him a little smile, then turned back to the monitors. “Ah, there we go.”
Maurice expanded an image. It was a small, insignificant tattoo in the web of his target’s thumb and first finger.
“What is it?” Shadow asked.
“Looks like the infinity symbol.”
“What a piece of shit. Are you sure it’s on the original? None of his doubles have it?”
“I’m sure, Shadow. This is what I do all day. Every day.”
He nodded, still reflecting on Maurice’s words. Shadow had always believed the poison the social workers fed him. It was one of the reasons he kept to himself, convinced he was a monster. Maurice’s declaration made him think.
“Why’d you mention that stuff about my reports, anyway?”
“Look, Shadow, I know all the dark stuff, from the foster system to your tours of duty. But, I also know what you do Thursday nights. I know about the shooting at the bar. You think you’re the devil? The devil doesn’t care about anyone but himself.”
He stood up, tucking the 9mm on the coffee table in the back of his pants. “Thanks for the information.” Then he got up to leave, his hand on the door handle. “Boss give any contracts on the girl?”
“No, but Killian’s his right-hand man these days.”
“Take care of yourself,” said Shadow, leaving the apartment. Once outside in the hallway, he leaned against the wall and scrubbed his hands over his face. He lived by himself and stayed away from other people to avoid this type of emotional overload. His memories were weaknesses he didn’t need to relive.
At least Riley was safe for now. Maurice was right—if Killian found out Boss put a hit out on an innocent woman, there’d be hell to pay.
He headed out to the downtown core. According to his recon, the target had an appointment with a banker at 3:00, but it could be more smoke and mirrors. Shadow sat in his SUV and watched the entrance of the bank with his binoculars. As boredom settled in, he massaged behind his neck with one hand and checked his Rolex. A couple minutes to three, two cars pulled up in front. He waited to see who would step out after the rear passenger door was held open. When he spotted Chains driving the lead car, he tossed his binoculars and bolted from his vehicle.
Did Boss have more than one guy on the job or was Chains backstabbing Killer of Kings? Either way, his day just got more fucked up. He called Boss on his cell as he walked along the sidewalk, weaving in and out of suits. Shadow hated crowds.
“You finished the job early?” asked Boss.
“Good one. Since you have your finger on the pulse of the city, you know the answer. What I need to know is why Chains is driving around with my mark.”
“I don’t remember saying it was exclusive.”
Shadow growled his irritation. “He’s going to blow his cover if he makes a move on the wrong guy. Maurice said he has a fucking army of body doubles.”
“Chain is infiltrating on the down low. Nothing to do with your mark. I like to have eyes and ears everywhere. Just worry about getting your contract fulfilled.”
“I’m on it.”
Shadow shut off his phone and shoved it in his pocket. He had to get close enough to see the tattoo before he could take out his mark. It wouldn’t be easy. As he approached the two idling cars, he glared at Chains, sitting in the driver’s seat. He’d only worked with Chains briefly while they were handling the Dead Angels MC clean-up, but Shadow preferred to work alone.
He discreetly pressed a tracker to the rear of both vehicles before walking toward the bank. Shadow blended into the surroundings. Today, he’d dressed the part, wearing the tailored Brioni suit he saved for knocking off upscale bastards. The five men flanking his target were on alert, so he couldn’t get close. With the security cameras and armed guards, he wouldn’t be pulling out his guns inside the bank. He just needed to verify he had the right man, and then he’d follow the piece of shit outside of the city and take out all six of them.
Shadow had complete faith in his ability to get the job done, no matter how many fuckers he had to take down. Boss had taught him well. Firsthand experience at Killer of Kings over the last twenty years had put him at the top of his game.
The foyer of the historic bank was massive, the vaulting ceilings reminiscent of the museums in Rome. The marble floors shined with a mirror finish. Shadow had traveled the world on assignments, and spoke several languages. Italy had been one of his favorites.
He took out his phone, keeping tabs on the group while trying to look occupied. Shadow discreetly took pics of the men in the entourage. His mark had dirty-blond hair and looked to be in his mid-thirties. He’d expected someone much older considering how far his criminal enterprise reached. Didn’t matter. It was either him or a double, and Shadow was getting fucking sick of recon.
Maybe shaking things up would bring the real man to the surface … or send him deeper into hiding. He had to do this one right, just as Boss instructed. He liked assignments that were cut and dry—find and eliminate the mark without all this bullshit. Maybe Boss was punishing him for his last fuck-up.
“You clean up well.” The voice came from directly behind him. As much as he’d love to whirl around and shove his Glock in the asshole’s face, he kept still.
“Don’t get excited. I’m not into dudes,” said Shadow before he turned partly to the side.
He frowned when he saw Anthony DeVino, one of the mob’s low-ranking hitmen. Shadow should have expected competition with such a high payout.
“What? Not happy to see me?”
“You reek of cold cuts and cigars, not exactly a pleasant combination.” Shadow put his phone away, occasionally keeping tabs on his mark as he crossed his arms. “Give me some space.”
“You’re breakin’ my heart here, Shadow.”
“What do you want?”
Anthony shrugged, but glanced to the other end of the foyer. “I’m guessing the same as you.”
“Then we have nothing else to say, do we?” said Shadow.
Anthony stayed quiet for a shocking ten seconds. “Boss doesn’t own the city.”
“And Renzo Carpollo does? Keep telling yourself that, DeVino. Usa la testa, vai a casa.” If he had to take out Anthony to fulfill this contract, he wouldn’t think twice. Killer of Kings considered him a scavenger, always ready to pick up the scraps left by real hitmen.
Shadow headed to the main entrance, each step punctuated on the stone floor. He waited on the stairs outside, hoping to get a good look at the mystery man as he left. He couldn’t stop thinking about Riley’s lip-reading skill. If he could understand what they were saying across the foyer, it could be a game changer. It would save him a lot of time and recon. He liked to work solo, and didn’t want to drag around one of Boss’s hired lip-readers to every lead. If he needed one, he knew exactly who he’d use—Riley. He enjoyed watching her, and being around her, even if at times she was a bit prickly.
