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“She’s said you’re her rock,” Peggy murmurs.

“And yet she won’t tell me…?”

I trail off, sighing. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter. If Kelly was here, she’d say I was being a brat.”

I laugh lightly. “Tell me about Jamie since you’re obviously not going to tell me anything else.”

Peggy returns the laugh with an edge. “You ask the questions.”

“Okay. Is Jamie a criminal?”

“No,” Peggy speaks like she has to force the words out. “He was one, but not anymore.”

“What sort?” I whisper.

“The boss has lost his damn mind,” Peggy mutters.

“What sort?” I ask again.

“A hitman, I guess you’d call him.”

I sit back in my seat, my hands on my knees, staring as the light turns red and pedestrians start to cross.

I try to make the word fit into my head.

Hitman.

“He killed people,” I say numbly.

“He was a SEAL in his early twenties. When he was twenty-seven, he retired. He and his brother did. Matt.”

“That’s why….”

“Yeah.”

His tattoo studio is named after his brother.

“So they quit the SEALs,” I say, thinking of Jamie in a Navy uniform, even as my mind swirls with all the possible darkness. “That doesn’t mean they have to start killing people.”

“No,” Peggy says softly as the lights change to green. “Matt got into some debt. He took one job. The man in question was…evil, Jennifer. That’s something you have to understand. Both of them have only ever taken out the worst. The men who hurt children. The sadists. The people who do things you can’t even think about…but they’re clever. They know how to work the system.”

It makes it better, and there’s no denying that. But this whole conversation feels so surreal. Like at any second, I’m going to reach out and start peeling pieces of reality away. We’re talking about hitmen, about murder.

“It was one job,” Peggy went on. “But then Matt got into more debt. He was into drugs, but don’t mention it to Jamie. He doesn’t like to think of his brother that way.”

“I won’t,” I murmur.

“Jamie worked to help him. He tried to keep him alive. But one day, Matt disappeared. Jamie doesn’t know for sure who did it, but we know Matt’s dead. When people disappear in this life….”

“This life,” I repeat. “You’re not just a receptionist, are you, Peggy?”

She smirks, shaking her head. “I guess you’d call me an arranger. But that was in the past.”

An arranger. Of hitman targets.

“This is just crazy,” I whisper. “So what happened after?”

“Jamie tried to find out who took the hit out on Matt. The problem was, Matt owed money to most of the gangs in the city by that point. So Jamie did what few men in this life can. He retired. He’d always liked art, so he pursued that.”

“They just let him do that?” I whisper.

“He made it a statement, a challenge to everybody in the city. He let everybody know where he was and what he was doing. Anybody could come, he said, but they better be careful. He’d be ready. If they tried to deal drugs on his street or cause issues, he’d make them pay.”

“He said that to all of them?” I whisper, thinking of his protective fire, the fierce confidence to be able to do something like that.

“And nobody came. They all know his past. Four tours, Jennifer. And then all the work here.”

“How many….”

“Targets did he take out?” she asks when I trail off.

I nod.

“Seven. Every single one had been caught doing horrible things, Jennifer. On video. I guess you’d say Jamie only took targets who were proven to be deserving of death.”

“And who decides that?”

“Gangs.” Peggy shrugs. “I never said it was a good thing. That’s why Jamie quit. He was only ever in that life for his brother. He acts friendly enough with them, so they’ll leave him alone. But he hates them.”

“I guess they’re done leaving him alone now,” I say. “There was a note, wasn’t there?”

Peggy nods. “There was.”

“What did it say?”

“It had an address.”

“Is he going alone?”

Peggy looks at me for a moment, then nods. “He is. But don’t worry. He works best that way. Everybody who’s anybody knows not to ambush Jamie Jensen.”

As I head upstairs, I tell myself I’m going to tell Kelly.

Right away.

I won’t let this drag out.

“I kissed Jamie,” I whisper under my breath. “We did other stuff too. I’m sorry, Kelly. It just happened. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I don’t know how I feel about him. But I want to do it again… I’m so sorry.”

I take my key out of my bag, meaning to open the door, but then it swings on its hinges.

Walking inside, my breath starts to quicken.

The table has been flipped over.

The couch is on its side.

A mirror lies smashed on the floor.

I rush around the apartment. “Kelly? Kelly?”

There’s no sign of her.

Over to the window, I stare at the street.

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