Page 11 of Himbo Hitman
I pull my attention from the street below to where she’s watching me. “If you rat any of us out, if you get cold feet and want to tell someone, if you betray me or any of the people I care about … they will kill you. Immediately. Luther’s just the messenger, and the real people behind this operation are very well protected. Guys like Carson Alexander, you’d be an easy target for them.”
I manage a half smile. “There you go with the trust again.”
“I want to make it clear.”
“Message received. Besides, like I said, I’m desperate for the?—”
Before I can finish my sentence, Arlie tugs up her black mask, takes aim, and shoots.
Thechick-et, chick-etsounds like a really loud, well,stapler. Then, she lowers the gun.
“It’s done. Let’s go.”
It’s … done? Just like that? A cut-off thought, a millisecond of concentration, and someone’s life switches from on to off as easily as me tossing breadcrumbs to Sir Squeakerton.
I stupidly turn to the street below, and it takes me a moment of searching through the lack of panic to realize that she wasn’t aiming for the street. She was aiming for the apartment across and down three flights from us. With an open window. And a dead guy sprawled out on the floor.
His tattooed arms are splayed out over his long hair, shirt pulled up to reveal a sliver of vulnerable skin, and he’s notmoving. I’m assuming because of the bullet holes through his neck and head.
I’m hit with too many feelings to know what I’m feeling as I stare at the suddenly dead body across from here.
“Huh,” I manage weakly. “Good shot.”
“Thanks. Time to go.” Arlie grabs my arm and drags me away from the building and back over to the fire escape. “Pull your mask up.”
I do what she says on autopilot.
“What the fuck is that?” she demands.
“My mask.”
“Why is it smiling at me?”
“Thought it gave it a little something something.”
I swear she fucking growls. “You don’t want something something. You don’t want spice or pizzazz. You want total anonymity.” Arlie’s eyes go big, and somehow, she mimics the exact same look as Margot. The look of complete disbelief in me. “You can’t do this.”
I quickly grab her arm before she can walk away. “I can. I promise.”
“You’ll get yourself killed, and then that’s on me.”
“Come on, Arlie-even-though-that’s-not-your-real-name.” I press my hands together in front of my chest. “Help me. I’m a pathetic no-hoper. Igetit. But without this, I literally havenothing.I need you.”
“You want to kill people that badly, huh?”
My whole face screws up. “I don’t want to kill people at all. I just don’t have a choice.”
She sighs, tugging me back toward the fire escape. “We all have a choice. But fine. I’ll text you an address. Meet me there tomorrow, and I’ll teach you how to hold a gun. Then the rest is on you.”
CHAPTER FOUR
ST. CLARE
I shootup in bed with a gasp, panting through the rapidly disappearing images of my dream. It was something to do with Colin. I don’t remember what or how, but that feeling of fucking dread is deepening in my gut.
Because waking up hasn’t helped anything.
It’s been a whole week since I’ve seen him.
