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“Why would I do that?”
“You know there is not to be any sort of evidence or loose ends. We have done a great job at keeping everything clean for this long, so why would you jeopardize that? For a woman?”
“Is this the real reason you called me over?” I ask, placing the drink down on the table between us. His gaze flicks to it, but he doesn’t say anything. “And leave her out of it. I have it handled.”
“Do you?” he asks.
“When have I not?”
“Kyson, out of the three of you, you are the one who talks to me the most. But you’ve been silent for some time now. Do I have to worry?” He leans in as he says the words with his eyebrow raised in question.
“I’m just working out how to be a better me.”
“What’s wrong with the ‘now’ you?” he bites back. “You are amazing at everything you do. You have a charisma about you that your brothers admire. Heck, even I admire it. So tell me, what’s wrong?” Pops is the closest thing to a father figure we have. I don’t even remember our real father, and as far as we are concerned, we have no other family. Which sits well with us—we don’t need much.
“Why does something have to be wrong?”
“Kyson. Tell me.”
I contemplate confiding in him. But I’m not sure what to tell him, so I keep it to myself. Zuko was the only one who knew, and now Kenzo does. But that’s it. That’s all the people who need to know. They don’t need me. They do just fine by themselves.
“Fine.” He hands me a piece of paper that disintegrates when it touches water. I look over the information and note the address and name. “Your brothers have plans, but I need this job done for a favor I owe.”
“Who’s the favor for?” I ask.
His head drops to the side as he studies me. “Why are you asking?” He’s right to question me. We never question a hunt, but as I said, things are changing.
“Is it a secret? You said it was a favor. I’m asking for who…” I pause, then continue, “Or is this one a secret as well?”
Pops is good at keeping secrets and has been for as long as I can remember.
A woman comes out from the hallway, and I don’t recognize her, which isn’t unusual. I never know who Pops has in his bed as he goes through so many women. Pops’s salt and pepper hair looks good on him, and the women he brings back all seem to love him. She waves as she walks past us, but his eyes remain firmly on me.
“It’s not a secret. The governor wants him dead. The mark has been going around saying he will be running next year and will most likely win with all the dirt he has on the governor. So, if you wouldn’t mind, I owe him a favor. Or would you like me to get your brothers in on it as well?”
I shake my head in answer, stand, and put the paper in my pocket.
Then I leave without either of us saying another word.
It doesn’t take me long to find the mark. He’s at a well-known restaurant not far from his apartment. He lives alone. Never been married. No kids. I can do the searching without Kenzo, but he’s better—I find basics, and he finds everything.
I watch him for a bit as he sits there drinking. He smiles when appropriate but seems to have a lost look in his eye. Walking past the restaurant, I head straight to his apartment. A man buzzes himself in, and I slip in behind him, making my way to apartment number three. I jimmy the lock, and it opens easily. The place is basic, with creams and whites everywhere. It’s small, but I guess that’s all you need when you live by yourself.
Why do I have such a big house, then? Because I want it, plain and simple.
Opening his bedroom door, his bed is unmade, and clothes have been thrown around. Shutting the door, I go to the window to check when he leaves the restaurant. I make my way to the door and wait. It’s not long until I hear the jingle of his keys, and he enters the apartment.
I hit him on the back of his head, and he falls hard and fast. Shutting the door behind him, I pick the mark up and place him in a dining room chair. Tying his hands behind him, I grab another chair and straddle it in front of him, waiting for him to wake. It takes his groggy mind a few minutes until he starts struggling, and when he stops, his eyes lock on me.
“Hello.” I smile. He tries to move back, but he can’t. “Just stay still,” I tell him. I watch him try to place me, but he won’t be able to. I don’t know him, and those who know me know better than to show pictures of my face.
“Hunter.”
Tickle me pink, I was fucking wrong.
“So, you do know who I am. Interesting.” I smile. “Do you know which one I am?” I ask.
He shakes his head and tries to wriggle himself loose.
