Page 37 of Himbo Hitman
And like that, pity’s gone. “Alien sightings?”
“Yeah, there’s been an increase in UFOs entering our airspace.” His tone perks right up. “Do you know that there’s almost one hundred sightings a month on average? And it’s up from that. Plus, about a quarter of people have spotted one that it can’t be?—”
“Wait, wait, wait. You believe in aliens?”
He blinks at me, stunned. “That makes them sound like they’re not real.”
I almost choke. “Because they’re not.”
“Sheesh,” he mutters. “No wonder someone wanted you dead.”
“Excuse me?”
His goofy, lopsided smile comes out. “Too soon to joke about that?”
“It will always be too soon. But I have a good idea of who wants to kill me and why. The question is, who the hell is after you?”
No offense to Perry, but being a barista and newly disastrous hitman doesn’t exactly scream primary target to me.
“Ah.” He shifts in the chair, shoulders obviously getting uncomfortable. “I have a sneaky widdle feeling that it might be the same people.”
My face falls into a frown. “I’d say no offense, but your feelings aren’t high on the list of things I care about, so why the hell would some drug lord nightclub owners give a shit about you?”
If I didn’t know any better, instead of looking offended, he seems amused. “It’s only a hunch, but I don’t think they liked paying me for a job I didn’t do.”
“A job … me?”
“Yup.”
“Theypaidyou?”
“What?” he asks, this time sounding offended. “You were supposed to be dead. We pinky swore.”
“Who’s stupid enough to take some crime lord’s money?”
“In my defense, I didn’t know they were a crime lord.”
The fact he thinks that’s a defense at all proves thathe’sstupid enough. “They organized a hit on someone. That didn’t raise red flags with you?”
He tries for another shrug. “Hey, man, we’re all just trying to get by out here. What’s one person’s red flag is another’s ideal quality.”
“Again: organized hit. Crime lord. Those are not ideal qualities.”
“Yeah, but don’t we all wish we could find someone who would kill for us?”
“I’ve literally never wanted that a day in my life.”
“Ah. Well. I am a romantic at heart, so …”
I raise my hands, giving my head a little shake. “How did we get here?”
“Well, your name came up for a job?—”
“I mean this conversation.”
“That’s anyone’s guess, but I’m enjoying myself.”
He’s … enjoying himself. We have him handcuffed to a chair because he tried to kill me, fucked up, and is now the one people are after, and he’senjoyinghimself. I’m struggling to work out if Perry is the most laid-back person on Earth or is completely oblivious to the danger.
