“I’ll be keeping my burner for now,” I tell Tessa. “I’m working on something with someone and need it.”
“Something with someone?” She laughs. “Jesus, Tris. Why so vague? This is me you’re talking to.”
“Alright. I’m talking to Daphne Fox. She’s my new consultant.”
“Wait, what? Consultant? I thought you were just stalking her.”
“She doesn’t know my identity. But she’s in on my plan. She’ll help me, but I owe her a favor.” I leave out that I’ve become a hitman for the daughter of the world’s most powerful asshole. But my sister doesn’t need every sordid detail of my life. Sometimes the less she knows, the safer she’ll be.
“I don’t like this,” she warns. “Not one bit.”
“You don’t have to like it.” It’s like her worry transfers to me, and a molten ball of unease globs in my stomach. “But, Tessa, you need to trust me.”
My burner phone rings beside me.
Daphne’s calling.
CHAPTER SEVEN
DAPHNE
“You called back?”Guy’s voice tinges with surprise.
“I said I would. I’m a woman of my word.” I bet I could find a loophole in our deal. But Guy has me curious.
He let me go.
Hell, he drove me home, tucked me in, and fed Hawkeye. A couple pieces of kibble were left in his bowl, and I know it was spotless before I left for work. What the hell kind of kidnapper does something like that?
Even more surprising was the fact that I woke up with all my clothes still on. From the ripped dress to my bra. Hell, even my panties. I would have pegged him as a perv who’d steal a souvenir from his victims. Guess I was wrong.
At least, I hope I was. Nothing was missing when I checked my house this morning.
“Have you had breakfast yet?” Guy asks.
“No, breakfast for me is a cup of coffee.”
“Coffee is not breakfast.”
“It is once you become an adult.”
Guy’s chuckle rumbles and awakens something in mylower belly—a hunger of a different kind.Am I ovulating or something?That must be it. It perfectly explains why my body’s acting all soft and gooey from a man’s laugh. Ovulation mixed with a dry spell is a bad combination.
“I’m older than you, Princess, so that means I’ve been an adult longer. Have a proper breakfast, or I’ll drive back to your place and feed you myself.”
He wouldn’t dare… would he? He kidnapped me in broad daylight. I shouldn’t put it past him. I checked my Ring app this morning, and there was nothing. No signs of his car or him dragging me inside. Nothing.
He cleaned up his tracks.
“How old are you?” I ask.
“Still in my twenties, but older than you.”
“Yeah, that makes you so much more mature than me.” I roll my eyes even though he can’t see me.
“If I make some toast, will that make you happy?” I ask.
“I’d be happier if you had some eggs to go with it.”
