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“Why the fuck would I agree to that when I can get your story anyway?”
His head pulls forward a fraction of an inch, as much slack as the bar on his neck will allow. His eyes sear into mine.
“You and CASH-ULTY are about to be fucked on all sides, and you fucking know it, you feel it coming. Your security fucking sucks, and you need me. Beyond that, I know you fucking want me, too.”
Chapter 21
Sin
It was a risk.
Getting close to her, gaining her trust, means revealing more about myself than I ever wanted. I should have expected it, though. At the end of this all, she was always going to find out who I really am. This just means I have to reveal a bit more a bit earlier to keep the whole truth from her. Give her a little to avoid giving her a lot.
“Ask him who I am,” I nod toward Huntske. Ginger’s sharp gaze turns to him, and the coward fucking pisses himself. The sting of urine hits my nose, but I don’t react. He’s only serving to help my story.
Huntske looks between Ginger and me, and though I’m chained up, I still see fear in his eyes when he looks into mine.
“Tell her!”
Huntske whimpers and looks to me once more before looking up at Ginger.
“I don’t know his name, but I’ve heard of the man so covered in scars he looks more beast than human. They say … they say he’s the best hitman in the world because no one knows his name or what he really looks like.” My nose turns up in disgust as tears leak from the man's face.
Ginger, looking unimpressed, turns back to me.
“Really? That’s it?”
My lips thin, and she sighs, turning back to Huntske. She leans over, looking into the man's face.
“What else do you know?”
The man starts sobbing, saliva and snot running down his face. Ginger steps back slightly with a grimace on her face.
“Fucking pathetic,” she yawns. Turning back to me, she waves in the broken man’s direction.
“That tells me nothing,” she says. “You’ll have to do a whole lot better than that.”
My nostrils flare as I watch her, considering my next words. I need to be careful, give something without giving too much. I also need her to think it’s her threats getting me to talk. If she realizes she’s falling in to my plan, it’s all over.
I swallow visibly and watch her face out of the corner of my eye as I speak.
“I was in a bad accident when I was seventeen,” I begin. “A lot of my scars were formed that day, though I don’t know exactly how or what happened because I hit my head. I remember the accident but nothing before. When I woke up, I had no memory of my name or prior life.”
So far, the truth.
Ginger watches me critically, moving slowly toward the extra chair between Huntske and me. The other man whimpers from his spot, and I can see him fidgeting out of the corner of my eye, but otherwise, he stays quiet.
“A man found me,” I tell her, my voice quieting. “He … wasn’t a good man, but he was a man of his word. When he found me, he told me he would teach me to be a real man and to get vengeance on those who’d wronged me. I barely made it through his teaching, but by the time I was healed, he had done what he promised, and I was a man no one would cross. He’s the one who gave me the name Sin when I began to heal. Said my survival, my existence, was clearly a slight against God, but that he had already made the promise to help me grow and would stick to it.”
My mind takes me back briefly to that hut, the days spent in the cold while training. The aching scars that covered my body as they healed. The scar on my face feels tight as I continue.
“I killed my mentor because he was also my captor.” My eyes meet hers, and I wait for the judgement, surprised when I see none. “That was my first solo kill. The rest … this asshole has told you enough. I work for a select few, and few know my name or who I am. I am Sin and no more.”
My eyes watch her closely as I wait to see if she accepts my story. There’s enough truth in my words that even someone good at recognizing deceit should be fooled. I don’t doubt she’s looked in to me, tried to find me. She won’t, though. I’ve had the best of the best to make sure that I am untraceable, especially for people like her.
The wheels in her head are turning as she watches me, and I wait to see what she’ll do. It feels like a long time but really is probably only minutes before she stands up then walks over to the medical bag, pulling out a gun and a blade. She steps up to me and looks me up and down before bringing the gun up and pointing it at my forehead.
“If you try to fuck me over, you’ll wish it was as easy as a bullet to the head,” she says, her tone matter of fact. I try not to show my surprise. Instead, I give a terse nod, or as much of one as I can with the bar across my neck. My eyes widen as she pulls a key from a chain on her neck, tugging it off and releasing one of my hands before placing the key in my hand and taking a step back, the gun pointed at me the whole time.
