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SEVEN
Decima
This time,the crew didn’t hide their final job preparations from me. So I got a clear view of the tactical vests, weapons cases, and other mission paraphernalia they were assembling near the door.
“Did you rob an army surplus store?” I couldn’t help asking.
Garrison released a harsh laugh, and Julius shot him a pointed look. I wondered if there had been an argument that I’d missed while they’d been gearing up for the mission.
Garrison cast his gaze over me next. “Better to be overly prepared than not at all,” he said, eyeing the exercise clothes I still wore from earlier.
“Where do you expect me to get an appropriate outfit for a job like this—out of my ass? I don’t even know what the job is.”
Julius spoke up before the younger man could get another word in edgewise. “We’ve got a few more pieces to see to. We’ll pick you up some tactical clothes on our way back. Garrison, you can stay and fill Dess in on the details of the mission.”
The blond man’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re leaving me behind now? What am I, the babysitter?”
His boss looked like he was restraining himself from rolling his eyes. Or strangling Garrison. I could relate to both impulses, as much as I’d enjoyed kissing him last night.
“You’re supposed to be the smooth talker in the crew,” Julius reminded him. “I think you can handle a little conversation. Your skills aren’t required for this last bit of prep.”
Garrison grumbled wordlessly under his breath, but he didn’t raise another overt protest as the other guys tramped out of the apartment. I studied him, my nerves prickling.
Was he really that annoyed about having to spend time with me? I’d thought we’d made a sort of peace on the rooftop, but maybe I’d been wrong. There was still so much I didn’t really get about relating to other human beings, at least ones I wasn’t supposed to be either training with or murdering.
It shouldn’t have mattered anyway. Caring about things like whether people liked me only complicated my life.
But that way of thinking, that forming social bonds wasn’t important—that was definitely Noelle’s teaching. How could it be anything else when I’d never had the chance to live any other way? Part of me was starting to think I’d appreciate a few complications of that sort.
“Why don’t we go up to the deck?” I suggested. Garrison usually seemed more at ease there, and I liked the atmosphere too. “I could use some fresh air.”
Garrison marched ahead of me without a word and led the way up. He didn’t wait for me, striding right out onto the deck while leaving the door open, and stood with his back to me as I emerged.
“I’m sure that Julius explained that this is one of our easier missions,” he said abruptly. “You shouldn’t have much to worry about.”
I grimaced at his back. “I wasn’t worried. It would be nice to know what we’re actually doing, though. I can handle whatever it is, but I prefer to go in prepared, like you mentioned earlier.”
Garrison finally turned to look at me. It wasn’t a sidelong glance or a hostile glower. He considered me analytically. “I know you can handle it.”
That ounce of approval settled my nerves. I didn’t need reassurance when my track record spoke for itself, but it was good to know that Garrison was still capable of moods other than intense snark.
He flopped into a lounge chair near his precious telescope, and I ambled closer. I propped myself against the wall nearby. “So, the job…”
“All right already. We’re going to L.A. Via private jet, obviously, since regular airlines won’t accept all of our equipment.”
I blinked. “You guys own a whole jet?”
Garrison smirked. “Well, half wouldn’t get us very far.” Then he sobered up enough to add, “It’s not ours. The client is paying for it. Our skills are in high demand, so we get requests all over the country, sometimes overseas, and for those we require travel in style as part of the payment. They’re happy to supply the vehicle in exchange for having us doing their dirty work.”
“Wow.” I’d never thought about just how much the crew might be getting paid for their work. I’d never seen any money from my missions—and when would I have had a chance to spend it anyway?
Had the household profited from my kills? I’d assumed all my targets were people they personally wanted taken down, but it was possible they’d hired me out to other parties too, wasn’t it? The thought made me want to scrub my skin raw.
Just how many ways had they exploited me?
I shook off those unsettling questions and focused on Garrison again. “And who are the targets of this job?”
Garrison lifted his eyes skyward. “We’re supposed to shoot up some people on an indie studio movie set. The production’s being run by a bunch of gangsters who cast themselves and all their buddies into the roles. From what I gathered in our conversation, not that he admitted this outright, the client is pissed that he wasn’t invited to join in. So he’s hiring us for revenge.”
