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We met a decade ago. I was ten years into my quest for murderous vengeance, and she was only months into her journey of finding what to do with herself after surviving.
We were both at the same place for the same reason. It was personal for her. Every time is. Just like every kill is for me.
It’s all so fucking personal.
The next time I ran into Karmine at a hit, she had four other women with her. And they were out for blood. So I introduced them to my arms dealer.
And the third time I saw her, she was running a crew fifteen deep. All bad-as-hell women who’d clawed their way to freedom. So when Karmine asked if I’d like to share intel and take on some hits for her, I said yes.
I’d been on my own for so long that it was nice to have someone else do the hunting. Nice to not have to do every damn step on my own. Only they did more than I ever could. They gave the women they found safety. They gave them options.
I was always so focused on destruction, knew I was only ever good for killing.
Karmine’s army is so much more.
And I’m happy to be a weapon for them to wield.
“Can’t say I was expecting the girl next door.” My friend breaks her stunned silence.
“It’s not like that,” I admit, sure she’s jumping to all sorts of wrong conclusions.
“Right.” She drags the word out.
“It’s not. I don’t even talk to her.”
Karmine narrows her eyes, and I press my lips together.
“You were whispering when I called you earlier…” I watch uncomfortably as she puts it together. “Hans, tell me you weren’t in her house.”
“Look,” I start, and I already know I’m gonna sound like a fucking creep. “I’m not doing it to perv on her or anything. I’m just making sure she’s safe.”
“By skulking through her house in the middle of the day? While she’s there?”
“When you say it like that.”
Karmine snorts. “Man, I know you’re not like these assholes.” She gestures her hand toward the bar. “But maybe you should try to spend some more time with normal people. Because you can’t be doing that. You’re good, but she’s gonna catch you. And that’ll go down real bad.”
“I don’t—She doesn’t…” I scrub a hand down my face. “She wasn’t there before. I fell asleep…”
Karmine drowns out my words with her full-body laugh.
After several long seconds, she finally takes a breath, and I level her with a bored look. “You done?”
She brushes a tear away from her eye. “Christ, Hans. You can’t just Goldilocks this girl and expect a happily ever after.”
“Goldi—” I shake my head. “I might be fucked in the head, but I’m not delusional. I know that’s not where my story goes.”
“What? Happiness?” The sad look she gives me makes my stomach hurt.
She knows my past just like I know hers. She knows what weighs on my shoulders. She knows I was too late.
Karmine’s expression softens. “You’ve more than leveled the scales of justice. Shit, you’ve ended enough bad guys to single-handedly populate one of the circles of hell.”
“And that means I win a white picket fence?”
She sighs, having no patience for my self-pity. “It means you can think about, I dunno, maybe not being such a fucking loser. Retire. Get a life. Try talking to the girl you’re stalking. Ask her out.”
“I’m not stalk—” I cut myself off because, by the definition of stalking, I think I probably am. So I change the topic. “Did you just tell me to retire?”
