“Ladies first.” He grinned, waiting for me to enter, then clicking the door closed behind us.
I paused, taking a tentative step forward, only to have him breeze past me again. He didn’t stop walking until we were at theback of the building—no one seemed to question him—where the signs for “sauna” seemed to direct us.
He counted the doors, pulled a pair of sunglasses out of his hoodie pocket, put them on his face, and peered up at the security camera in the far corner. It was turned in the other direction, focused on the wall and not the hallway it was supposed to be monitoring. Casper removed the glasses and shoved them back into his hoodie, drawing a hammer from that same pocket.
Then I watched as he knocked the handle off the sauna door, plucked it off the ground, and tossed it to me. I caught it midair as he pivoted on his boot and strolled down the hallway the same way we came. But not before replacing the handle with one that looked just like it. Except this one wasn’t actually attached to the turning mechanism.
“What was that?” I hissed after him.
“Keep your voice down.” He shook his head. “Please tell me this ain’t your first time.”
I caught up to his slow saunter in three steps. “First time for what?”
“Making a hit look like an accident,” he replied as he led the way towards the back of the spa. He stuck his head inside what appeared to be a supply closet, grabbed my wrist, and tugged me after him.
“That was a hit?” I peeked out the little glass window but we were too far away to see anything but the corner we’d turned down.
“It will be if you hurry up and change out of those clothes before someone catches us.”
When I turned back around, Casper was standing in a uniform that matched the other spa workers and his hoodie and pants were stuffed inside a bright-purple trash bag. He shoved another uniform into my chest and motioned for me to hurry up.
I rolled my eyes, quickly stripped down, deposited my clothes into the bag with his, and threw the uniform on. It didn’t fit as badly as I thought it would. Fucker was actually smart enough to grab something in my size.
He didn’t say anything more before he was walking out of the supply closet with the bag in tow. Once again, no one looked at us twice as we headed out the back door and into a waiting car—different from the one we pulled up in but just as old.
Casper tossed the bag into the trunk and then jumped into the driver’s seat. The moment I shut the car door on the other side, he was speeding off down the street.
“Who was it?” I asked after a few miles of awkward silence. Though they didn’t seem all that awkward or silent to him with the radio on full blast and his hands tapping on the steering wheel.
“Who was who?” he countered.
“The guy you just took out.”
“You’re assuming it was a guy,myshka.” His lips twitched at the side.
“Fine. Who was the girl?” I grunted.
“You were right. It was a guy,” he said with a full-on grin. “Remember that politician?”
CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
BELLATRIX
“Iwant half.” I slammed the apartment door closed. Opened it and slammed it again when the smug son of a bitch didn’t notice the first time. He didn’t notice the second time either, but it made me feel a little bit better. Plus, I’m sure one of the bar patrons downstairs noticed so there was that too.
“For what?” Casper sighed as he kicked his boots off and bounced his ass onto the bed.
“It was my idea!”
He slowly turned his head and looked over at where I was leaning against the dresser. My arms crossed and my face pissed the fuck off. I couldn’t see it. But I could feel the heat on my cheeks, the pinching of my eyebrows together, and the tightness of my jaw as I ground my teeth.
This was worse than when Allie took credit for cleaning our bedroom when I was eight and she was twelve and somehow messier with her shoes and makeup than I was with my toys and Silly Putty—homemade by one of the cooks because we couldn’t afford the real stuff.
That came with Mom’s praise and an extra serving of dessert I couldn’t eat anyway. This came with dollar signs. Dollar signs I could use for a couple more throwing knives or maybe even an upgraded scope. I’d figure out which as soon as I figured out how much this fucker made off the ideahe stolefrom me.
“It was my hard work.” He shrugged.
“What about what you did back there was so hard?” I flung a hand out towards the window even though we were miles away from the spa, gym, whatever. It didn’t matter. He knew where I was pointing.
