“You want me to tell you my secrets?” Dodge. Avoid. Do not let the terrifying and gorgeous mafia boss know that I’m in fact not a hitman, but a very boring girl with a very dull life.
Well. It was until I started texting a kingpin.
“Yes, Bunny. I’d love you to tell me all your secrets.”
“Not going to happen.” That’s rational, right?
“Humour me. We can swap, if you like. I’ll tell you about my last kill, and you tell me about yours.”
“This is ridiculous,” I bluster.
“The man was part of the Essex Cartel. One of the Clacton-on-Sea henchmen. He was causing some trouble in my territory, and?—”
Oh no, I don’t want to hear this.
“Mine was poison,” I blurt out.
“Very good,” he purrs. “Subtle. Go on.”
“It was a wedding reception.” It’s the first thing I think of. “I put it on his food.”
“Tricky to do without being noticed. How did you manage that?” He sounds absorbed.
“I had poison hidden in my necklace.” I saw this in a movie I watched, and I bet the mafia boss isn’t into trivial things likepopular culture. Too busy murdering people. “You should have seen it. He went purple.”
“Simple. Effective,” he says approvingly. “What was he wearing?”
“A red tunic—” Whoops, the movie is set in a fantasy world, and I just messed up. “Suit.”
“With a gold lion on it,” he states.
Oh. No. “Well, I yeah, but no, but…”
“Yes, that’s a great assassination. But you didn’t do it.” He sounds amused. “Because it’s fictional. Go on. Tell me one you did do.”
“Like I said, I favour guns usually. I did an excellent shot, taking out a man in an open-top car.”
“As the car was moving? Very impressive. And where did you shoot from? A window, or…?”
“I was on a hill.” I can see the scene in the movie clearly.
“A grassy knoll?” He laughs delightedly. “You assassinated Kennedy? I definitely need you on my team, Bunny.”
His amusement is infectious, and I’m smiling in return. Okay. I’m all in with this.
“And I pushed a guy from a great height.”
“A tower? Or was it a spaceship?”
“Both. I did both,” I say recklessly.
He laughs at my joke and it’s such a good feeling. A caress.
“Your talent has no end, Bunny. But how would you kill a mafia boss?”
“Uh. Drive by shooting, I guess?”
“So impersonal,” he chastises gently. “Wouldn’t you want to use a knife?” he lowers his voice to a rasp. “Hold it against my throat, see how my pulse is fast for you. Close enough to kiss. An intimate assassination, Bunny.”
