“And what’s in it for you?” Guy’s question stretches out as he tries to decipher my motivations.
“Um, my freedom?” The chains scrape like a slithering snake along the floor as I raise my arm and shake it around.
“Once you’re free, how do I know you’d keep up your end of the bargain?”
He’s got a point. Once I’m free, I don’t have much leverage. He’s someone I don’t want to be associated with.
But he’s not afraid to get his hands dirty. And I’ve made a few enemies over the years.
But one enemy in particular comes to mind. The first man to drug me. The only man I think the world would be truly better off without.
It’s sick, but I’ve thought of a hundred ways I’d kill him. Hiring a hitman crossed my mind. Maybe this is my chance to finally end him.
“What if there was someone… someone I want you to add to your list?” I ask cautiously.
“You want me to be your hitman?” His voice sours on the word.
“Hey, you want to use me for gossip.”
“You won’t have to get bloody holding up your end of the bargain.”
“And you won’t have to suffer small talk with politicians who have the IQ of a seagull.”
His chest rumbles as he laughs. It’s a warm laugh that doesn’t seem to match in my head. The whole round peg in a square hole thing. But something about that laugh is reassuring and shakes every molecule in the air around me, leaving my skin tingling with awareness.
He sounds like one of those narrators in my audiobooks,and fuck him for making me think about that. Seriously, hasn’t this bastard done enough to me for one evening?
“If you want this, Princess, you’ve got to tell me who I’m targeting and why.”
Unease freezes in my belly. “No. No why. I’ll tell you who, but the why is my business.”
Guy pauses for a long moment, like he’s seriously considering my offer. “Fine. Who is it?”
“Brent Sokolov. He’s a?—”
“I know who he is,” Guy cuts me off with an edge of excitement in his voice, like he knows the answer to a question I didn’t ask. “He’s a senator from Ohio. His parents are Judy and Richard Sokolov. His mom’s an oil heiress. His dad’s a senior partner at Kushman, Kulp, and Kline. I can’t believe the guy works for a firm with the acronym KKK.”
To be fair, Mr. Sokolov is exactly the type of asshole I’d picture cowering beneath a white hood.
“Honestly, it’s fitting,” I say. “You know, Brent once told me he’d never date a black woman because people should be with their own kind. He’sthatbrand of racist.” Guy recoils, and I can imagine the look of disgust on his face. “His constituents would be better off without him. Actually, we all would. You kill Brent for me, and I’ll get you the inside scoop on whoever is in my network.”
Guy pauses, his head tilting as he silently contemplates my proposal. “Deal.”
“I have one rule, though,” I rush to add.
“And what’s that?”
“I know you want to stop this bill, but no hurting my dad. He’s a prick, but he’s still my father.” Dad loves me in his warped, narcissistic way. So long as I’m useful to him, he’ll continue to love me.
And as much as I hate that his love comes withconditions, there’s always going to be that little girl inside me begging my parents for their approval—even if she’s always disappointed.
Another long pause, like Guy’s doing some mental calculations before he gives one small nod. “Agreed. Now, finish your pizza.”
He starts walking up the stairs.
“Wait, Guy,” I call out.
He cranes his neck to look at me. “Guy?”
