Page 65 of Himbo Hitman
He stares at me. “Wait. Wait, wait. Tell me … tell me you’re not talking about?—”
“Shhh!” I throw a look back down the hall. “Maybe not professional will-spank-you Dom … just … would respectfully tell me what to do and be super confident and good in bed type of …” The words I’m saying suddenly catch up to me. “You know what? Forget I said anything.”
“Wish I could.”
“This never happened.”
“Wish it didn’t.”
“Pass me that bottle of Coke, please? I’d like to start attempting to drown myself.”
He hands over the bottle, then crosses his arms on the counter. “Take it easy. We still need you.”
“For what? Sexual harassment? I can tell you that you have a great ass, too, before I off myself if you’d like?”
“I’d prefer you didn’t. What Idoneed from you is to find out this name for us. You said you could.”
“Sure. Luther will be able to tell me.”
“You sound confident about that.”
“No reason not to be.”
Lars runs his eyes over me, but not in the sexy way St. Clare does. More in the can’t believe I’m real way. I’m taking it as a compliment. “No reason other than the fact the guy takes money to facilitate crime.”
“Yeah, but he owns a labradoodle.”
“And?”
Now, I’m struggling to believe Lars is for real. And it’snota compliment. I explain slowly. “He owns a labradoodle. One of the purest pooches on earth.No onewho owns a labradoodle is a bad person. It’s, like, the law.”
“The law.”
“Never happened.”
“And you’ve seen to this personally, have you?”
“Don’t believe me. You’ll see.”
“Well, considering you’re doing it tomorrow, at least if you die, it means I won’t have a chance to get attached.”
If I die.
Well, that’s one way to smack me in the face with it, I guess.
Full confidence in Luther, obviously, but also … what if I’m wrong? Could I actually fucking die? What if St. Clare is right and they really were targeting me?
That means I actuallyalmostdied today, and I have to say, being on the other side of things isn’t a great feeling. What would Margot think if I suddenly died? Just … never came back to her? Would she be searching for me the way St. Clare has been searching for his brother?
Would she finally get a moment to relax then?
It would be easy enough to be like, “nah, not gonna do it,” but we don’t have any other options. Either try to get Luther to spill the info or play hopscotch between housing until these guys finally catch up with us.
All I can do is hope that Luther is the doodle-daddy I think he is.
Being reminded that the big D could be coming your way helps put things into perspective though. Does it matter if I’m attractedto St. Clare? Or other guys? If something happens to me tomorrow, no one will know much of anything about that.
At least then I won’t need answers to the millions of incessant questions I have.
