Was she dancing in her seat?The music wasn’t even on.
Had he accidentally stumbled upon a psychopath who enjoyed killing?
Then again, how couldhecriticizeherfor that?Wasn’t he the happiest after the light left someone’s eyes?Yes, but he was, admittedly, a fucked-up individual.The odds of his running into another screwed-up soul were slim as hell.
He uncurled and re-curled his fingers around the steering wheel as he maneuvered his way through the streets, obeying every speed limit, stop sign, and traffic light so as not to draw unnecessary attention to themselves.However, when they stopped at a cross street, a thought occurred to him.
She worked in the building.When the police came to investigate the murder, they’d ask to speak to everyone who had been in the office that night.Obviously, they’d want to talk to her.
How had he fucked up this badly?
Closing his eyes, he cursed under his breath.
“What?”she asked.
Damn.She was too attentive for her own good.
“Where do you live?”he asked.
He couldn’t take her back to his setup.If she went missing unexpectedly, that would draw too much attention.She had to be around for the cops to question her.Unfortunately, he couldn’t leave her alone.She was a stranger to him.She could fuck things up worse than he already had.
“Not far,” she offered before giving him an address.
“Just tell me when to turn,” he said.
He wasn’t about to input her address into any device that could be tracked back to him.All those satellite navigation apps complied with the police.He should sever any connection between him and her.
This was why he worked alone.Partners were unpredictable.No matter how well they were known, they would always save themselves.He really stepped in it this time.
A migraine pulsed behind his right eye.This was the worst possible move he could’ve made.What was it about her that made him lose his head?Was it the fact that she jumped right into the moment and finished his kill?
Maybe.
Perhaps it was how gleefully she acted afterward.She practically did cartwheels as the man bled out on the floor.Normal people didn’t do that.Not that he was an authority onnormal.He wasn’t even remotely close to it.
The amazing sex could’ve been the reason for her joy.He’d never fucked immediately after a contract before.Orgasming after a kill was an endorphin rush he’d never expected.
He should research that again but not with her.A hooker, maybe, but no repeat performances.Having ties to anyone was a liability.It was dangerous for him and the other person.He couldn’t do it.
Mentally, he shook off those thoughts.This wasn’t the time or place to be considering the next opportunity he’d get to bang with blood on him.That was a problem for another day.Right now, he had to sort out what the hell he would do with the woman in the cheap red wig.
“Right there.”She pointed to a small garden apartment complex.
He turned into the lot.
“Did you want a round two?”she asked.
Yes.Absolutely, but no.He couldn’t do that.Going at it again was a bad idea.He shouldn’t.He wouldn’t.Fink was supposed to be a professional.
When he shifted his focus toward her, she waggled her eyebrows.
What waswrongwith this woman?
“I’m not against the idea,” she said as he pulled into an unmarked parking spot near a dumpster.
He wasn’t either, but he couldn’t think of a more inopportune situation to get his freak on.He had far too much to work out.
“If we do, will you keep the makeup on?”she asked.
