Page 165 of Himbo Hitman
Then Arlie cuts in. “No. We’ll do it. You two need to get back to your vanilla lives and goddamn stay there. There’s nothing I enjoy more than dealing with drug dealers.”
“What happens to this place?” I ask, gesturing at the room.
Arlie returns to the desk chair. “We wait for Luther to miss paying all his bills, then I swoop in with the money to take over. Most of the guys here aren’t loyal to him, only their next paycheck, and that’s something I can offer them.”
“So you’re going to continue. With your … job.”
“Yes.” She looks me down like she’s daring me to disagree with her. “There are always bad people who need to die, and I sleep really fucking well knowing that I’m taking them off the streets. That was the whole point of this place when I started here, and I want to get it back to that.”
Considering how good of a shot she is, it’s not like I’m about to argue with her. Especially not with deconstructive Ever sitting so close.
“Best of luck to you,” I say, because what else do you tell a contract killer who’s planning to extend her operations?
“Thank you.” She turns toward the computer and pausesagain. “I’m glad Perry will be okay. Tell him to come and see us when he’s better, got it?”
“Ah … got it.”
“Good. He’s family now. We protect our own.”
While I don’t know how to feel about that creepily sweet sentiment, I know exactly how Perry will react.
With excitement. Like a dog who’s been adopted and can’t stop doing zoomies.
Which means that I’m stuck with them too.
Love that for me.
“Thank you.”
With that organized, I turn to leave, wanting to get back to Perry so I can look after him when he wakes. Margot is going to fight me for custody of the injured monster, but I’m not going to let her win. Not this time. She’s looked after him for their whole lives, so it’s my turn now.
I get all the way to the door before something bright red catches my attention, half caught between the door and the wall.
Curious, I crouch down and dig it out, a little zing of surprise shooting through me.
It’s a strawberry.
And I know exactly where I’ve seen it before.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
PERRY
Hospitals are boring.
I’m drugged up, hooked to machines, and accumulating debt faster than a rat on an exercise wheel.
It doesn’t help that I’m still groggy and, well, not disorientated, but definitely not tethered to reality. Plus, I get yelled at every time I move, so that’s fun.
I groan long and loud, wanting to at least be able to get off this bed to piss.
A passing nurse must hear me because she pops her head into the room, barely repressed smile fighting her before she says, “Is it actual pain this time or still self-pity?”
“Self-pity,” I admit, trying not to pout. “If you help me up for a second, I won’t tell anyone, I swear.”
“What did I tell you last time?”
“Honestly, Janice, bleeding out on the floor feels like a risk I’m willing to take.”
