“Let’s take it day by day, okay?” I kiss her gently again. “No pressure. No labels. No worries about the future.”
I can do the worrying all on my own.
“Okay.” Callie pulls my face back down to hers and we kiss long and sweet. But then she steps away, putting a sliver of space between us. I run my thumb over her bottom lip and note her intake of breath.
“Goodbye, Calliope.” I hand her car keys over.
She blinks at me, as if surprised I’m actually letting her go.
“See you,” Callie whispers. Then she turns and slips into the building.
“We can takecare of Joe Killer while we’re there.”
Noah’s sitting at my kitchen table drinking hot chocolate while I squat and feed fresh logs to the fire. Sir Fluffy is snoozing on the rug in front of the fireplace. There’s nothing I like better on a cold winter day than a cozy, warm fire.
Except for having a certain gorgeous and spicy brunette zip-tied to a chair in front of it. I like that better.
“We hit a target literally last night. And less than a week before that.” I stand and turn to my brother. He’s jumpy, and his eyes are wide with excitement. He looks sort of crazed. “Way too fast.”
I’m afraid he’s been getting progressively more reckless since his breakup. It might’ve messed him up more than I thought. I think he let himself care too much about her, and now he’s finally realizing women don’t fit into our lives.
I realized that truth a long time ago.
Callie’s a fluke. My brief intermission from the single life. At least that’s what Ishouldthink. She wants a safe and legal life as a librarian and a white picket fence in the suburbs like the picture she showed me, plus probably a dog and ahusband who’s an accountant or a high school music teacher.
Not whatever it is I am.
I hate the suburbs. That’s how Noah and I grew up. Give me the woods anytime, then maybe city as a second option. But the oppressive suburbs, with the carefully fenced yards and HOAs and neighbors watching everything you do and reporting back to the others, because they have nothing better to do? Hard pass.
Noah groans. “Come on, dude.”
“I won’t agree to anything right now. I want to make sure it’s safe.”
“The quicker we take care of targets, the more people we save. A little risk is worth it.”
See? Reckless.
“Noah.” I sigh. Arguing with him is hopeless, but I have to try. “Let’s slow down. Be careful. Take all the precautions.”
Noah rolls his eyes.
“I get that the quicker we get them off the streets, the better, but still. I don’t want me or you getting off the streets as a result.”
“Fine. Whatever.” My brother shrugs. I’m not sure my speech actually worked, but maybe it delayed things. “Have you found anything online about the New York fight club?”
Noah dropped me at home this morning and then headed back to his place, returning a few hours later so we can talk about the NYC trip. I buried myself in research while he was gone.
“Some comments on message boards that refer to it.” In the kitchen, I uncover the apple pie I baked from frozen and slide a knife in so I can serve each of us a slice. Sir Fluffy, now awake from his nap, weaves in and out of my ankles,meowing with growing intensity. “You are not getting pie, kitty.”
Sir Fluffy strolls over to Noah and sits on his foot. Noah looks down and shakes his head grimly, then gently pushes the cat off. Sir Fluffy stalks off down the hallway toward my bedroom, probably to go pout. That animal is obsessed with Noah.
I settle at the kitchen table and slide my brother a plate.
“When do you want to go?” Noah’s eyes are already red with allergies, if that’s even possible.
“Soon.”
Usually I’d locate the person, create a schedule of their lives and locations, then provide it to the client before walking away. They’d then proceed however they want without my involvement.
