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“I think you should know something about me. I don’t tell anyone this, but since we’re going forward, we’ve got to trust each other.” Why is this so fucking difficult? “I don’t…actually kill all my marks. I offer them a deal, and if they take it, they bolt. If not, then I do what I’m hired to do.”
Discomfort is a living thing in my bloodstream as I wait for her reaction and I’m not surprised when Layla bursts out laughing.
“Sure, and I’ve got a farm for sale on the moon,” she jeers. “What are you after? Why are you lying to me?”
“Look.” I drum my fingertips on the edge of the steering wheel. “If we’re going to explore the shithole parts of town together for this little murder mystery party, then I need your trust. I’d like to have it. Or as much as you’re willing to give me.”
“It’s unlikely you’ll get anything out of me.”
She’s staring out at the buildings ahead, frowning.
I grip her knee to return her attention to me.
“Most of the people my boss sends me out to kill are not deserving of their fate. There are a few rare exceptions, of course.” I think back on the one I’d had to butcher the other day. “I offer them a deal. They disappear, or they die. Most are willing to take the deal.”
What would she do in my position, if our roles were reversed? How would I feel, learning this about her, in that case?
I don’t expect her to agree with me but maybe she can understand.
For a long moment the silence in the SUV thickens. I sit back in the seat, letting her work through things on her own, not willing to be the one to speak first.
“So what do you do then?” She still sounds skeptical. “If they take the deal and run? You still have to supply a body for your boss.”
“I find someone to butcher in their place,” I say simply. “There are thousands of scum in this city who deserve death.”
“Who areyouto decide?”
“I’m the one holding the knife, but the decision is out of my hands. I don’t kill my hits outright. I give them the choice. And if they choose to run, then someone else takes their place. Someone deserving of it.”
“You seriously expect me to see you as a noble judge?”
“More like an ambivalent executioner,” I correct.
She says nothing and I pull the car off the main street toward one of the side alleys where we won’t be disturbed.
I wind up parking far enough away from Docks on Markee that we’ll have to walk but it’s much safer this way. Harder to escape quickly but less likely there will be eyes on us at this distance.
“So you offer criminals a second chance and…what? What happens if you get caught? Your boss will never forgive you,” Layla says finally.
“I kill people that pose a threat to others. And he’ll never find out.”
We still don’t move.
“Because drug lords are so willing to be merciful,” she replies.
Slowly I twist around to look at her. “Selling shit on the street that is laced with bad stuff loses people who are willing to pay for it without asking questions. That’s the clientele. Stupid people. Doped and laced shit is bad for business, Detective. So I take care of the problem. I take care of the people who are a drain. The sadistic fucks who hurt kids and only care about making a quick buck.”
“As long as they’re sadistic in the way you think, then, that makes them okay?” She’s looking for answers and I’m not sure if she’s ready to accept my explanations or not. My chest is hot and tight and the rest of me prickly. “Your kind of sadism is fine?”
I blow out a breath and push out of the car. She does the same and rounds the hood until we’re both standing chest to chest. Then I say, “You are awfully mouthy for a woman without a weapon at the moment.”
“And you’re awfully cocky for a white dude with a mediocre-sizes dick.” She accompanies the statement with a syrupy sweet smile.
“Filthy fucking mouth.” I grin at her. “But we both know the weapon I’m carrying, the one that will do you in, isn’t my knife. It’s mymediocre-sized dick,as you so lovingly put it.” I grab her, pressing my half-chub against her. Much better, I realize, to touch her. To joke with her, especially when she matches my teasing tone. “Feels mediocre right now. Right?”
She doesn’t fight me.
She doesn’t pull away.
