The dark-haired girl kept sliding her gaze back to him, smiling, biting her bottom lip, all but flapping her arms like some exotic bird to let him know she was definitely down to…mate. This was why he liked his other coffee shop. The barista and her wife never gave his looks a second thought, and his looks…they were a problem. Objectively, he knew how attractive he was. He didn’t think it was conceited to acknowledge that his parent’s combined genetics had blended nicely. If anything, it was irritating. Being attractive made him memorable. Being memorable was never good. Especially now that he was embarking on a new career. Murderer.
He did his best to look away, his gaze straying to a man who sat at a table, clearly amused by Tobias’s discomfort. The man stood out in the crowd—not for his deeply tanned skin in the middle of a chilly spring or his dirty-blond hair, but for his dirty jeans and crisp blue t-shirt in a sea of suits and ties. Tobias’s gaze fell to the man’s feet, noting the stained steel-toed boots, before traveling upwards to find the man staring at him with that same sort of smug amusement.
It sent a strange shock of awareness through him, like licking a battery. Just the tiniest shiver of…something. Tobias had no time for relationships, didn’t really understand people’s need to share their lives with others, but he could appreciate that the man sitting by the window was more than just passingly attractive. He was fit—even sitting Tobias could see that. Could see the way his jeans hugged thick thighs and that the sleeves of the man’s shirt clung to well-muscled biceps.
He dragged his gaze away, finally settling on staring at the chalk menu above the counter, letting his mind wander to the task at hand. Order a coffee, walk outside to see his tire was flat, call a tow-truck and ask them to tow it to the garage around the corner. While he was waiting for Killeen’s men to patch his tire, he’d make use of his time by doing a little casual spying. Nothing overt. Tobias was not only blessed with good looks but a near photographic memory. He’d look his fill then draw it out later.
By the time he made it to the front of the line, he’d all but forgotten about the two girls now waiting for their orders until it occurred to him he’d have to stand beside them once more to wait on his coffee. The barista behind the counter swiped his card and gave him a bland smile, too busy to care about another guy on his way to work. He held out a ten dollar bill over the tip cup. “I’m going to wait over there for my coffee if you don’t mind?” he asked, pointing to the opposite side of the shop.
The barista looked at the two girls still making eyes at him and shook her head. “No problem.”
He walked to the opposite end of the counter, staring at a case full of pastries. Tobias didn’t like sweets. When he was ten, he’d done a paper on how sugar reacts like heroin in the brain and decided that was one more vice he’d never allow himself to have. Food was strictly for nourishment. Human interaction strictly to appear human. Sexual gratification merely a biological impulse easily handled with masturbation. People made their lives far more difficult than they had to be.
“Here you go,” the barista said, handing the paper cup to Tobias over the pastry display.
Thank God.He needed to get out of there. This was far too much stimulation for him. He needed to get on with his plan. The girls had been a slight hiccup, but there was no reason everything else couldn’t go off without a hitch.
He spun around and collided with a solid wall of muscle, his coffee cup a casualty of the crash, collapsing and pouring steaming hot coffee over his hand and chest. He hissed at the pain, his face contorting, as he took two steps back and met the eyes of the working man with his clean shirt and dirty jeans.
“Shit, man. I’m sorry,” the guy drawled, his words slow and lacking any discernible accent. A rarity in Boston.
“It’s fine,” Tobias snapped before remembering who he was supposed to be. He smiled blandly. “Really, I’m fine. No harm, no foul. Right?”
The other man cocked his head to the side, the corner of his mouth hitching in a half-smile. For a split second, Tobias felt as if he was looking in a mirror, like the guy’s everyman persona was just that, a persona. Up close, the man’s pale blue eyes were sharp, and Tobias felt like he was using those eyes to read him like an open book. Yet, he couldn’t look away, as fascinated by this man’s contradictions as the man seemed to be with his.
He was older by a few years, skin weathered, wrinkles at the corner of his eyes, but it by no means took away from his looks. If anything, it only made him more attractive. So attractive the sting of the coffee on Tobias’s skin took second place as his brain attempted to multitask.
“Let me at least replace your coffee,” the man said, his voice smooth, his cadence melodic.
Tobias liked the way it felt in his ears, the way it wrapped around his brain. He quickly shook the thought away. “No, it’s fine. My sweater took the brunt of it. I’ll just skip the coffee today. I’m in a bit of a hurry.”
A hurry to get away from this man, this anomaly. He didn’t have time for anomalies. Not today. He spun around and exited the shop. He strode towards his Volvo, slowing as he realized that he did have time today. Plenty of time. He had a flat tire. It was all part of his plan. Tobias clenched his jaw. The metaphorical pebble in his shoe now felt like a boulder. It would get better. He would get better. For now, he just needed to stick to the plan. Just call a tow truck. He’d already saved the number in his phone.
“Need help with that?”
Tobias bristled, glancing over his shoulder at the man in the blue shirt, then quickly away. He couldn’t risk getting sucked into those eyes that didn’t seem quite right somehow. “No, I’m fine. I’ll just call a tow truck.”
“It’s no problem, really. Do you have a jack? A spare? It’ll only take me about twenty minutes.”
Tobias blew out a breath. This guy really needed to get lost. He turned, plastering a superior look on his face. “Listen, I appreciate the offer, but this is an extremely expensive vehicle. The tires alone are probably worth more than you make in a week. If you don’t mind, I’ll take it to a professional.”
Tobias had expected the guy to tell him to fuck off or possibly even punch him in the nose. What he didn’t expect was an arched brow and that same half-smile, like Tobias amused him. Somehow, that was worse than being punched in the face. It left Tobias feeling exposed, like an icy finger of awareness snaked its way down his spine. It wasn’t unpleasant, just odd.
That half-smile became a full grin. “You’re kinda tightly wound, huh? Maybe it’s a good thing you skipped that coffee after all. Sorry I ruined your sweater vest.”
As far as insults went, it was a low-caliber bullet, barely penetrating. But as the man walked away with a loose wave, Tobias glanced down and grimaced, then peeled the soaked material over his head and dumped it on the front seat. After loosening his tie, he leaned against the door as he pressed the button for the tow truck. He spoke in a jovial but slightly irritated manner before hanging up.
As he sat waiting, the man’s words repeated over and over in his head. Tobias scoffed at the guy’s final words.Tightly wound. Sweater vest.Sweater vest wasn’t an insult. It was simply a practical item of clothing. Hell, it wasn’t even his style. He didn’t have a style. He had costumes. Armor. A persona. What did he care if Mr. Grease-Under-His-Nails didn’t like his sweater vest?
Suddenly, Tobias stopped short, a shock of awareness hitting him like a bucket of ice water, making his skin tingle. The man’s insult wasn’t a low-caliber bullet after all, but one of those bullets that fragmented on impact, leaving damage in its wake. Clever. Fuck. Tobias did love an anomaly. There had to be a story behind that man’s piercing eyes. Too bad Tobias wouldn’t be the one to hear it.
He didn’t ride with the tow truck driver but did wait and watch as the filthy man in overalls and more than a day’s worth of sweat loaded his car onto the truck bed before he called an Uber, ignoring the man’s chatter as he went over his plan for the hundredth time. He needed to focus. He couldn’t afford to get distracted. This would be his first kill. If he didn’t do everything right, it would be his last.
Tobias was the king of laser focus. He could do this. He’d spent his entire life controlling every aspect of that same life. There was no reason this should be any different.
The smell of rubber hit him like a school bus as he pulled open the door of the auto body shop. There were people lingering in a small waiting room, foregoing the twenty-four hour news channel on the small television for their cell phones and tablets.
There was nobody at the desk, but there was a small bell. Tobias dinged it heavily, drawing irritated glances from the others before they quickly forgot him again. He drummed his fingers on the counter, occupying himself by reading the list of offered services tucked behind a clear plastic mat. When he heard the door open, he didn’t glance up right away, distracted by a bit of old tape at the corner of the mat, peeling up at the edge.
