CHAPTER 21
Hazel
Grant washed his face in the bathroom. I leaned against the wall with crossed arms, trying to look as angry as I knew I should be. Trying to hide the fact that I was scared.
“You can’t honestly think you can leave me here,” I said. Grant splashed cold water to rinse his face, then pat his cheeks dry with a towel. I used to think of hitmen like unicorns, that they were part of a different space, like they only existed when they were on the job, but the opposite was true. It was strange to think of the routine of getting ready for a kill, a clear repetitious pattern for hitmen to zone in for their ultimate goal. It was clear that Grant did these things every time. Wash his face. Collect his equipment. “What if something happens to you?”
Grant’s eyes flickered in the mirror to mine, then he went back to his task. “You’ll be safe here.”
“But you won’t be here.”
He grabbed a duffel bag from his closet, thick and black. He put it on the bed in a loud thump, then unzipped it.
“It’s not safe for you,” I said. “If something happens to you, and you don’t have anyone there—”
“I’ve done a solo job before,” he interrupted. He zipped the bag up. “This isn’t anything new.”
“I’m new,” I said. As if I had any weight in the situation. A small piece of me hoped that I had made the same sort of impact on him, like he had made on me. But I couldn’t be sure. He was so damn silent most of the time that I could hardly make sense of any of his emotions. Like the other night. My legs had been on fire in two strikes, and instead of wanting pain, the only thing I wanted, was him. For Grant to hold me. To kiss me. To tell me that everything was going to be alright. It scared me to think of myself changing like that. I wasn’t the pain fiend whoneededto feel powerless. I wanted pain. I wanted powerlessness. But I needed safety. I needed to be wrapped in his arms. I needed Grant.
He had kissed me back, but I couldn’t read his movements. It was like he was somewhere else. Did the lack of sadism turn him off? Was I making it weird by asking for something romantic?
I had made it weird, hadn’t I?
He hoisted the duffel bag over his shoulder and waited until I moved to the side so he could exit the room. I quickly grabbed a pair of shoes and raced down the stairs after him. Somehow, I got in front and slammed my whole body into the door to block him from leaving.
“Take me with you,” I said.
His shoulders were straight, sizing me up. His hazelnut eyes gleamed, taking me in. His jaw was tight.
“Are you going to let me leave without you?” he asked. I shook my head. He gestured up the stairs. “You need better shoes.”
I almost thought he was going to leave while I went to change, but he didn’t. He waited at the door. I chose a hoodie and some tennis shoes. We drove to a casino at the far edge of Las Vegas.
A large building sat in the back of a parking lot, with faded salmon paint on the exterior. The sign would have saidSour Times Casinoif all of the bulbs were working. A few women and men were scattered out front, with a big security guard in a leather vest standing at the door. Someone exited the building, and smoke whistled around the door for a moment. It wasn’t the kind of place tourists visited on vacation, but a place of last chances. Of rock bottom doubt.
Christine texted me:Where have you been? We haven’t gotten a drink in ages.
It had felt like a long time. Maybe I could tell her to meet me at Sour Times Casino. Grant parked the car, and stared out the windshield, studying the people. Looking for someone. Inviting Christine to a job was a bad idea. I liked bad ideas, but not when it put our lives at risk. I didn’t want to add her to my life of mayhem too.
I texted back:It’s been crazy.
Try me, she texted back.
Someone tried to run us over, I sent.
No shit??she texted back immediately.You can’t be serious.
Suddenly Grant was out of the car. He left whatever was in the duffel bag in the trunk. I got out of the car too, but he stopped.
“Stay in the car,” he ordered.
“But I—”
“I’m not going to argue about this,” he said in a low voice. He stared at me with such intense eyes that I slid back into the passenger seat and crossed my arms. I watched him cross the parking lot and enter the building, glaring the whole time. Here I was, yet again, staying out of the way, while the people I cared about did everything without me. Another night of being the sideshow to Grant’s grand plan.
You’re staying safe, right?Christine asked.I can’t believe someone did that. You’re sure it wasn’t an accident?
Aggravation welled in my chest. I knew when I told people about it, they would question my credibility. Which was why I hadn’t told Heather, and why I was glad Grant had been there. Because he knew the truth.
