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Xavier had seen them. Deadly little women who didn’t look like they could harm a fly and yet he’d seen how evil they could be. With Boss though, there were the women that he killed, women that he fucked, and then civilian women that he suggested needed to be protected.
“What’s Boss’s issue with this guy?” he asked.
“It’s not our place to question why we do certain things. We get the job done and move on,” said Viper.
“I know what getting the job done means, asshole. Don’t you ever get curious?”
“I do about a minute each night before I go to bed when I can think about all the shit Boss makes me do. After that, I wait for the next call, and hope my kids don’t ever find out what I do.”
“I don’t know how you can have kids.”
“Again, El Diablo, I don’t give a fuck what you think. We all make a life from it. Boss gives us the opportunity to do our best work.”
Xavier snorted. “We’re not fucking artists.”
“Nah, we’re worse. We paint the streets in blood and watch other people pick up the pieces. I have no illusion that the place I’ll end up in is hell. I’ve got too many kills to think otherwise.”
“You believe in that shit?”
“I believe that when we die, it’s not the end of us. That we move on to another place. My wife, she’s the good part of everything. The light to my darkness. She’ll be in heaven.”
“But you’ll be in hell?” Xavier asked.
“I’ll be where I need to be. I know what kind of man I am.” Viper glanced toward him. “What kind of man are you? Are you even trustworthy? I know Boss has given you his vote, but I know who you are. You’ve been loyal to nothing and no one your entire life. You’d probably turn on all of us for the right paycheck.”
Xavier stared at Viper.
When he was younger, Viper wouldn’t have been wrong.
Growing up with nothing, he had no problem stabbing friends in the back to get what he wanted. They were in a dog eat dog world, and there was nothing anyone could do to save you. His mother sold them like dogs. His sister was taken from him, and he hadn’t seen her since. He knew how cruel the world was. A part of him hoped she’d been killed. That someone had the mercy to put a bullet in her brain so she would never know true pain.
That was his biggest fear—that his sister had lived a life similar to his.
The only thing that drove him in this world was his thirst for vengeance. To find the men that took his sister. To make them all pay.
He’d been one of the best locators in the world. He could find anyone, but his sister evaded him at every turn. Even with the breadcrumbs Boss had given him, she was still an enigma.
There was almost nothing he knew.
No way of finding her.
Boss had managed to get hold of information such as her port of entry and her alias. That information was his reason for joining Killer of Kings. But he needed more. Even if she was dead, he wanted to know the truth.
He’d be able to pay his respects and move on.
“Why did you agree to this assignment?” Xavier asked, smirking.
He didn’t care that little Viper didn’t like him.
Being liked in this world never helped anyone.
Viper shook his head. “You’re a fucking idiot if you think any of us has a choice in this. Boss tells us what to do, and we do it. I could be at home right now. Setting up a nice barbeque. My wife marinating some steaks. Instead I’m baking my balls off, waiting for this piece of shit to show up so I can blow his brains out. I have no desire to be here, but this is the price I have to pay.”
Xavier shrugged, watching through his lens. The apartment they were staking was impressive, even for his standards. It was spacious, and he saw the kitchen from his position—all top of the range gadgets that screamed money.
This was what he didn’t get. Crime wasn’t supposed to pay, and yet he’d taken down more rich criminals than he liked to think about.
The real truth was that crime paid the bills.
