Page 81 of Himbo Hitman
I go to confirm that, then stop. “M-mostof it?”
“Most of my money?” His eyebrows creep higher. “And you think giving me back most of the money you stole from me will call it even.”
“No, I thought giving you backallof it would have us call it even. I’m happy to sign a non-compete and everything. It didn’t even occur to me that taking it would be stealing fromyou, just your client, and I’m really sorry, Luther. Truly. If I’d known you were the one paying for the job?—”
Arlie’s jab to my shoulder is painful. “Stop talking.”
He’s still staring, and his lack of blinking is getting creepy.
“Well, someone needs to fill the silence,” I mutter.
Luther’s lips quirk. “I’ve always liked you.”
A twinge of hope kicks in. “This is what I’ve been telling everyone.”
“Everyone?” He perches on the side of his desk and looks me over. “Who’s everyone?”
I’m about to say Lars and St. Clare when my brain throws up an alert. If Luther is the one I stole from, does that meanhe’sthe one who wanted to kill St. Clare? Wow, this thing keeps on getting weirder.
If that’s the case, letting him know that we’re hanging out and playing house isn’t a good move. See? Fuck you, Lars. I’m smarter than you think.
I wave a hand toward Arlie and Everett. “Everyone. All myfriends here. They’ve been telling me for years that you hate me, Luther, but I knew better.”
“Did you also know better than to steal from me?”
Shit, we’re back on that again. What is it with people and not being able to accept an apology? “In my defense, it was a lot of money, and I had a lot of bills, and I was sort of sick of Margot thinking I’m a fuckup all the time.”
“So you thought pretending to kill a man and taking my money was a good way to prove to your sister that you’re not a fuckup.”
I sigh and scrub my hand through my hair. When he puts it like that, it sounds a little ridiculous. “It’s not like I thought it all the way through.”
“No, because if you did, you wouldn’t have ended up here.”
I clear my throat, gaze shooting to the gun and then back to Luther. “And where is … here … exactly? Are we talking physically here? Or metaphorically reaching the end of my lifehere?”
He tilts his head from one side to the next. “Well, that’s up to you.”
“It is?” Another twinge of hope hits me. If it’s up to me to choose between whether I live or die, it’s a simple decision.
“Of course. You wanted to make things even, so let’s do it.”
See? Doodle dad. He’s a perfectly reasonable guy outside of all this life-of-crime, Walter White business. “Thank you. I know I don’t have it all on me, but I thought we could work out a payment plan or?—”
“No payment plan.”
That derails my line of thinking. “Okay, but I don’t have the money right now. But I could get it. I’m sure I could.”
The more I talk, the more Luther shakes his head, and the more my heartbeat is trying to strangle me.
“I don’t care about the money,” he says.
“Really?” I’m waiting for the punchline. “But what about all the stealing and getting out your gun and?—”
“Let’s just say I have a very bad man who paid me for a job that wasn’t done. That makesmelook bad.” His voice rises to acrack of a whip in the silent, tiny office. “We work with the honesty policy here for a reason. It means no evidence, the people I recruit are people who I know will follow through, and now you’re making me question it all.”
“If you trusted me, how do you know he’s not dead?”
“I’m not new at this. New hires are monitored, and I get the confirmation they’ve completed the jobs they’ve been assigned. I’ve never had a problem. Until now.”
