Page 20 of Himbo Hitman
I could grab my phone and check, but I’m sort of terrified by what I’ll find.
The office door flies open, and Lars rushes in. His eyes cast over me before scanning the room, hand on his gun.
“What the fuck happened?”
“Not sure, actually.”
“Were you attacked? Are they still here?”
I give him a bemused smile. “Went for a little walk. Got a little shot. Do you have the painkillers?”
He releases his gun to pull them from his pocket, eyes still wild with concern. “Reilly, I?—”
“Let me take these. Then we can talk. Drugs first.” I throw two pills into my mouth and swallow them dry. The discomfort rankslow on my list for tonight, and I know Lars is dying for information, but I need a second. Need some of the pain to go away so I can fucking think right.
“First,” I mutter, reaching to untie my makeshift bandage, “I need you to take a look. He said he got my ear, but with how much it hurts, I wouldn’t be surprised to find there’s a giant hole in my head.” I grit my teeth as I remove the shirt. Peeling it away from my ear feels like a thousand tiny tears, and I’m hoping since it’s so stuck to the site that the bleeding has stopped, but I have no clue what’s happening up there.
“Shit …” Lars mutters. “What happened?”
“Just tell me if I’m going to die or not.”
“Ah … no. No dying.”
“Right. Then how bad is it? On a scale ofYou’re being a Dramatic AssholetoProbably Need a Hospital?”
“That depends.”
“On?”
“You had an ear at one point, right?”
My eyes screw closed because that’s definitelynotwhat I wanted to hear. “It’s gone?”
“Maybe, like, fifty percent? Hard to tell.”
“Shit.”
“You definitely need a hospital.”
I push to my feet and make my way over to the wet bar, where I pour myself out a glass of scotch. I’m itching to take a sip, but trying to drink anything right now makes my stomach turn. Everything feels so unsettled. I’m torn between whether to pace or drop to the floor. To punch something or curl up into the fetal position.
All I know is that I can’t go to a hospital. First, there’s no way my insurance will cover a bullet hole. Second, the police will definitely be called, which folds into third, the masked man.
Hispinkyswear.
“All I need,” he said, expressive eyes pinning my gaze, “is for you to promise you’ll go away. If you disappear, no one will know that I didn’tfollow through, and then if they think you’re dead, no one else will come for you. Get it?”
“You want me to fake my own death.”
That threw him for a second. “Not in the leave blood trails or a suicide note way or whatever. But leave the city. Disappear. Take your family or whoever with you, and try not to kick any puppies on the way.”
“What do you get out of it?”
“A payday I really fucking need.” He held up his little finger between us. “Do we have a deal?”
I’m still not sure I believe him.“Fine,” I’d snapped. “But I’m not doing … that.”
He bounced his gloved pinky between us. “I’m sorry, but I can’t let you go unless you seal the contract.”
