Reid wants to make sure you know he made the asparagus
Okay
Jacob
He wants to know why you aren’t more excited
OMG
YAY ASPARAGUS! YUMMY! MY PEE WILL SMELL WEIRD
Jacob
He said that was too much information
I laughdespite myself and return to my computer to plan tomorrow’s mission. I end up deciding against letting it all go down at the penthouse the senator has downtown. Do Reid and Mason ever spend time there? Reid spends every night at our house, so I can’t imagine he does. I also haven’t heard any rumblings of him visiting his uncle while he’s in town, so who knows what their family dynamics are. Everything will take place at the hotel.
Closing my laptop, I push away from the desk to head to my closet. My entire bedroom is utilitarian. Nothing fancy. Just a bed, dresser, nightstand, desk, white down blanket, gray walls, and a walk-in closet with my own en suite bathroom. It helps my brain to keep things as plain and basic as normal. Too much color gives me migraines.
I pick out midnight-blue dress pants, a black button-up, and a harness to match. The familiar weight of my gun andtranquilizer comfort me. Although, I’m not going to kill the senator with either, they’re just for my protection. The man seems to like to drink, so I’ll sneak into his room, give him a bottle of liquor from the bar with the bartender’s fingerprints all over it, and mix some of his blood pressure pills in so it looks like an accidental overdose. Easy as pie, as my mom used to say.
After a scalding hot shower to warm my bones, I return to the bedroom to find a plate of salmon on my desk, along with a tired-looking Hayden reclining on my bed.
“I can tell Robin no,” Hayden says apropos of nothing.
“Absolutely not.”
Hayden closes one eye, then the other, no doubt trying to sus out if I’m full of shit or not. Which I am totally full of shit. Ireallyhave a bad feeling about this one.
“I can come with you.”
“No, you know the rules. Only I get my hands dirty alone.”
“I still don’t get why,” Hayden whines.
That’s for me to know and for them to never find out. Yeah, I have a particular skill set none of them have, but I also enjoy it in a way none of them ever will or could. Can I make a living as a hired hitman for real after college? English literature professor by day, hired hitman by night. I could pull it off. Maybe. I sigh as I drop my towel to tug on a pair of boxer briefs. I can feel Hayden’s eyes on my back—the familiar territory of scars from fights over the years, the hastily sutured wounds that would’ve killed me had Mandy not been readily available for us.
“Claude is still out there, by the way,” Hayden announces from where he continues to lounge on my bed, the perfect picture of a Greek god.
“I’m aware.”
“You’ve heard nothing yet?”
I shake my head as I toss myself into the desk chair to eat my dinner. Hayden stares at me a little longer but swings himself up out of the bed to leave the room, seemingly satisfied with the answers I’ve given him. Once alone, I devour my dinner, then finally get back to doing the most important task at hand, my gothic fiction essay.
The next evening, I leave the house under the cover of darkness. A haze of low clouds blots out the stars, only giving me a view of the full moon every few minutes when a cloud passes by. I go over the evening in my head as I make the drive into town. I’ll park a few blocks away and make the walk as incognito as I can. After a few minutes at the bar, I’ll grab a bottle of scotch while the bartender is distracted. I’ll sneak up to the senator’s room through the security elevator after Hayden has made the security cameras “glitch” for a thirty-minute window. I’ll poison the alcohol with his blood pressure pills, then wait in the closet to watch him drink and die. Easy peasy.
Parking downtown is always a shit show, so I roll up to the lot that valets typically use.
“Hey! I’ll give you two hundred cash to let me park my car here for one hour, no questions asked,” I ask once I’ve rolled the window down.
The young guy grins and holds out his hand. “Pay up.”
Two hundred dollars later I’m parked in the lot andworking my way toward the hotel a few blocks over. People pass by but I ignore them. Instead, I keep my focus on the mission at hand. Clenching and unclenching my hands a few times, the leather of my gloves makes that eerie creaking noise that usually sets me on edge. The Adoria Hotel is one of the oldest and classiest hotels in the entire state. The doorman stands out front helping people still arriving for the gala, a thick red carpet underneath their feet.
The alleyway beside the hotel is so clean I could almost pretend I’m inside the hotel. No garbage stench, no piss stains. Amazing. I look up toward the security camera that’s blinking red above me, waiting for the light to disappear, and once it does, I take that as a wink from Hayden that it’s safe to start the mission.
It’s quiet when I push inside, despite the gala being in full swing just a few floors above. The hotel bar is a couple of hallway turns inside and I keep my suit jacket on tight to hide my harness. My habit of pushing my glasses up my nose when nervous eats at me, but then I remember I’m wearing my contacts for this mission. The bar is dark, warm light from the chandeliers giving it a certain kind of ambiance. I beeline for the bar with a single-minded focus. Scotch.
