17 yearsold
This is why I don’t like shopping in women's stores. The whole store smells like flowers and overpriced perfume, why do they need to spray so much of it? It’s stuck in the back of my throat, and it’s giving me a headache.
Olivia has been staring at the same rack for twenty minutes, flipping through dresses like she’s reading a job application or something. Each time her hand lands on the price tag, she frowns and moves on. It’s starting to annoy me now.
“You know I asked you to prom, so I’m buying the dress,” I say flatly, taking a sip from my coffee, which I think I’m going to need another one, we got here almost two hours ago, and it looks like I’m not leaving anytime soon. “So, stop looking at the prices. Or I’ll just buy the damn dress without you.”
She glances at me, then back at the dresses. “But I should buy it?—”
“Olivia, stop.” I cross the space between us and place both hands gently on her shoulders. Her eyes finally meet mine. “I love that you’re strong and independent, especially witheverything going on in your life. But just this once, please… stop. I want you to shop freely. Pick whatever you like, not whatever’s the cheapest.” Her lip curls slightly, her usual stubbornness kicking in.
“Since when do men like shopping?” she teases, arms crossing.
“I don’t. I hate it,” I tell her the truth, because she knows I hate it, I think I've told her a few times. “But if I didn’t come, you’d walk into a clearance bin and grab whatever fits. This is me making sure you treat yourself for once in your life. So, look at the dresses. Not the fucking price.”
A breath of laughter escapes her lips, her shoulders relaxing, thank fuck she might finally start looking at the dresses, and I can leave. She turns back to the rack, more at ease now, and for the first time, she seems to really look at the dresses, and she deserves this.
I walk behind her, coffee in hand, pretending to be disinterested. But I not. Not even close. I watch her, really watch her, how her fingers brushed across the fabric, how her eyes lit up when she sees something she likes but tries to hide it. She bites her lip when she considers a color too bold, too unlike her. I know what color will look nice on her, I even know which type of dress I would like her to wear. I know her better than she knows herself.
That’s when I feel it.
I’m not just watching her and thinking about what she likes. This is something deeper, twisting its way through my chest and catching me completely off guard. It’s a shift, subtle, but undeniable. Olivia, my best friend, is looking more and more like someone I can’t imagine not being around. She’s someone who makes me smile every single time I’m with her and when she’s not all I want to do it phone her so I can talk to her.
“Hey,” she calls, holding up a shimmery navy dress, hopeful and unsure. “What about this one?”
I stepped closer, letting my eyes move over the fabric, then back to her. “Grab a few and try them on.” This isn’t the one, but I don’t want to say anything, I want her to be happy.
“Really?”
“Yes, grab a few different ones, try them on then we will see which one you look amazing in.” She smiles, and for a second, it isn’t hesitant, it’s a smile which shows me, she’s going to try and shop.
But in the moment, that smile, I know, that prom is going to change something between us. Maybe everything, and a part of me isn’t scared about it.
Present time
I sit in front of Cain as he taps away on the computer. Mason and Miles behind me are talking about one of the girls dancing in the cage. They’re thinking about going to the sixth floor tonight. My head is hurting, sleeping is becoming harder to do, because every time I close my eyes there's only one person there. The one person I shouldn’t fucking care about, yet she’s all I can think about.
Cain slides a file across the polished wood desk toward me, the corners of his mouth tight. “Your next job,” he says. “His name is Daniel Carson. Owns a company that contracts with overseas defense firms. Looks clean on paper, but he’s been trafficking women for the past fifteen years. Rape. Extortion. Murder.” As Cain continues talking, I open the file.
Inside, there are photos, some blurred surveillance, some crystal-clear, showing Carson smiling in front of his multi-million-dollar properties, lounging in boardrooms, and walkingout of clubs with girls half his age. Every image makes my trigger finger twitch.
This is going to be so fun, a part of me wishes I can make it slow, but that’s not my job. My job is to make sure no one sees it coming and no one will ever know who did it.
I nod reading the papers, then look at Cain. “Two weeks to track. I’ll give you a date.”
Cain leans forward. “Sniper’s choice. You’ll know when it’s time. Do what you do best.” Cains always had faith in me, he knows I won’t fuck up, he knows I make sure I check every detail now.
The only thing good about this is, I have two weeks where I can have time for silence around me. I need the silence. I need the distance. I need the precision of a bullet over the chaos in my head that has Olivia’s name carved into every thought. I haven’t had a job in months, and the only thing that keeps me from drowning in her memory is the cold purpose of a kill.
Declan pushes the door open and steps in, nodding to Mason and Miles before turning to me. “I dropped off Mrs. B,” he says, referring to Olivia’s mom. “Still living in the same trailer park. She asked about you, if you were still away studying.”
I freeze. “She doesn’t know?”
He shakes his head. “Olivia kept it from her.” He sits on the chair next to me shaking his head. I know my brothers hate her as much as I do, yet there's a small, very tiny part of me that misses having my best friend with me.
The news about her not telling her mom hits harder than I expected, but I brush it off and close the folder. “Doesn’t matter.”
“Leo’s been sniffing around. He’s been here a few times while Olivia is working. Last week, he got a little handsy. I've got someone watching her, keeping her safe. She's one of my staff,and I protect my own. But also...” Cain looks directly at me, “I know who she is to you.”
