“Fine. You start tomorrow.” If someone offered something for free, the polite thing to do was to decline, but the smart thing to do was accept.
“We’ll start at your place.”
4
DYLAN
Dylan went back to his room. It was time to get to work. He would meet Flora at her apartment after Luxe dropped her off. Pulling out an overnight bag, he filled it with three outfits, a toothbrush, socks, a home alarm system, and weapons, in case shifting into his wolf wasn’t an option. He turned to leave before nearly running into Jackson, who was standing in the doorway.
“You didn’t sense me?” he asked, leaning against the frame.
The whole house was custom-made by the Enchanted Pack members. Jackson, being the only member who worked in construction, took the lead on the project. It was nice to live in a home that fit them.
“I did — I hoped you’d move.”
“Why did you refuse her money?”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll make it up some other way,” Dylan said, suddenly worried that his Alpha misinterpreted him refusing pay from Flora. Scrunching eyebrows, he tried to move past Jackson only to be blocked again.
“I don’t care about that; I just want to know why.”
“I don’t know.”
“Dylan.”
“It didn’t feel right, the fear in her eyes. There is more to the story she isn’t telling–which is fine, but she needs someone to watch over her. Now if you could let me do my job before the girls get too far...” Dylan answered before dashing out the door the second Jackson stepped aside. He couldn’t tell Jackson the real reason he refused Flora's money, not yet anyway. Honestly, he was nervous and too insecure in his ability not to mess up.
He realized he had a major problem when he was working his last job as an assassin. Dylan was on the rescue side of a mission, yet, he killed almost everyone. He couldn’t stop. In fact, he kept a couple barely alive so he could finish the job later. Flora unknowingly hired a crazed killer and in exchange for not telling her, he’d do the job for free. This would be a practice round to see if Dylan could work for the rest of his life without killing.
Dylan eased out of the mini parking lot on the side of the Enchanted Pack’s home and caught up to Luxe and Flora within minutes. Tonight, he would scope out her home, look for weak points, as well as install an alarm system to her windows and front door. That much he could do confidently.
As he met the pair at the apartment complex, Dylan hopped out of his car, pulling his bag with him, and followed Flora up the stairs after her goodbyes with Luxe.
“How can I trust you, Mr. Enchanted?” Flora asked. Not slowing his steps at all, Dylan responded coolly.
“Call me Dylan.”
“Okay, Dylan, how do I know you can do the job?” she asked, stopping outside her door and turning to face him. She stood shorter than him, but her energy matched his own. She wasn’t playing and that made him unsure about his qualifications. It would be easier if the job was to find and kill the stalker, but she didn’t hire a hitman — she hired a bodyguard.
“Experience from previous employment,” he answered, staring her down keeping his stance strong and alert.
“Explain more, pretty boy. What was your previous job?” She continued to question him.
“I dealt with people who had done wrong by others, for others,” Dylan explained, amused by the back and forth taking place. Lots of questioning didn’t typically take place in Dylan’s line of work. It always started and ended with “Will you, or will you not, take this job?”
“So, were you like a killer? An assassin? A super spy?” she whispered, tilting her head and crossing her arms. Her blazer tightened around her shoulders and elbows. Of course, her boobs started to pop even more in that tiny top she had on, but Dylan tried not to notice.
“Yes, an assassin, a hitman. I was whatever was needed. Now can I start my job or not?” He held the bag strap to his shoulder. With his line of work also came an extreme amount of patience.
“So, I'm letting an assassin into my home?” she clarified, keeping direct eye contact with him. Dylan could see the gears shifting in her mind, but she didn’t have anything to worry about, he was on her side.
“Yes, to protect you,” Dylan reassured.
Their staring contest continued. It was a battle of trust that he wouldn’t lose. He didn’t want to, therefore he wouldn’t. He wanted this job more than he wanted to admit. As time passed, her composure started to relax as she blinked and unfolded her arms. Turning around, she unlocked her door, but abruptly stopped right before she stepped on the carpet.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, stopping himself from falling over her.
“No shoes in the house past this point,” she explained, pointing to the line that separated the tile from the gray carpet. She turned and stared once again at him, as he bent over to untie his sneakers. He set them down neatly next to a pair of high heels. Flora unstrapped her own heels before setting them down next to his, a smile crossing her face. Straightening her back, she walked towards the kitchen. Dylan once again followed suit, putting his bag onto the counter.
