Page 43 of The Editor’s Choice

Fuck. I completely forgot.

I lock the screen, blanketing us in darkness again, minus the small table lamp on the nightstand.

“I have something I need to take care of,” I explain, tossing the cover off my legs and swinging them over the side of the bed. “Try to get some rest and I’ll be back in a little bit.” I lean down to kiss her forehead as she protests.

“I’m not saying you can’t come with me,” I offer. “I just wanted to let you know I’m going to be up for a while still in case you wanted to get some shut eye in the meantime.” Before the words are out of my mouth, she’s tossing back the cover and planting both feet on the floor.

“I suggest throwing on a pair of pants then,” I say, looking her up and down as a fire grows in the pit of my stomach. She looks damn fine standing on the other side of the bed in just my t-shirt, hair just a little messy from our time spent lounging in the bed. I feel the heat reach my face as she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, a similar heat making its way to her eyes as they unapologetically take in my shirtless chest.

I move to the closet, away from her, before I can’t contain myself and ruin the whole meeting I need to attend to. Finding a pair of plaid pajama pants, I toss them to her before I can change my mind. I can’t look away as she slowly steps into them, pulling them up to sit loosely on her waist.

Nodding, I head for the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. I’m going to need it to get through this, but this is necessary.

Less than five minutes pass before there’s a sharp knock on the door. Flipping the deadbolt back, I open the door and turn back toward the living room without even looking at our guest.

“Thanks for coming,” I say, turning to greet him with a cup of coffee in hand. He takes it, nodding his thanks.

“Anytime,” he says, taking a barstool at the island. “What’s so important?”

“I need a favor. A big one, Finn,” I say honestly. Finn has been by my side since day one. James wasn’t super keen on taking me in, especially after I fucked up the first assignment he had given me.

It was a simple order. Track down a local crackhead who owed James some money. Bring him in. When James was finished with him, return the guy to whatever shithole I happened to have found him in. Easy. Except I fucked up.

Everything had gone as smoothly as you could hope for until the drop off. I was watching every step, keeping an eye on every person around. The stakes were high for me on this one. One fuck up and it could get me killed. Or any of us really.

I didn’t see the guy watching me from the second story of the run-down apartment building where I had originally found this guy.

Unfortunately for me, this wasn’t just any guy. The creeper was from a rival group, and the target owed money to them as well. They hadn’t been able to find him until I led them straight to his fucking doorstep.

Luckily, I got the sense that something wasn’t quite right, though I couldn’t pinpoint what it was, and switched things up on my way back out. I didn’t go straight home, didn’t go back to the warehouse office. Turns out, that bit of trusting my gut saved my life.

If that guy hadn’t killed me, James would have done it in a heartbeat. A fuck up like that can get everybody killed. Being discreet is quite literally a matter of life and death in this business.

The morning after the drop off, there was a knock on the warehouse door. Darting my eyes between James and the door, I held my breath, being deadly quiet. As the door squeaked open, I could see a small package on the step. Just a plain cardboard box but packaged neatly with James’s name scrawled across the top.

James didn’t bother to bring it inside, opening it right there on the step. Trying to look around him without invading his space, I caught a glimpse of red around his shoulder. He picked up the box, stepped inside, and used his foot to close the steel door. The thud as the door came fully to was sickening.

James placed the small box on the table to the right of the door, opening it fully and giving me a knowing look. I stepped forward, already feeling nauseous without even seeing the contents.

This is bad, I thought instinctively. This is really bad.

Peeking into the box, all I can see at first is red. There’s red everywhere. In the center of the box, cradled delicately in newspaper wrapping, is a hand. A human fucking hand.

My eyes dart nervously to James’s face, finding no sympathy there. Just a look of anger. Hatred almost. There was no pity, no understanding.

Without the words being spoken aloud, I knew with a sickening clarity that I had gotten this man killed last night. I wasn’t careful enough and it cost this poor guy his life.

I do my best to keep on my feet, keeping my legs under me through sheer willpower. “Fuck” was all I could manage. My throat felt as dry as the desert.

James turned without a word, leaving the present lying on the dirty table for any passerby to see. He wanted the guys here to know I fucked up. To know they couldn’t trust me.

I stared at the box for a long while, completely unseeing and unaware of anything going on around me. People came and went. Harsh looks thrown my way, though none affected me like the look I’d seen on James’s face. That one gutted me.

Shortly after, I heard shouting from the office before Finn emerged, a small pity smile on his face. With a simple nod, he descended the steps and left the warehouse for whatever assignment he’d been on that day. Within seconds, James had stepped out onto the landing, looked me dead in the eye, then turned and went back to his desk, leaving the door open with a silent command.

I took the steps one at a time, praying I would get to see the dirty warehouse floor at the bottom at least one more time. I wasn’t sure what he could want, but I did know it couldn’t possibly be good. Not after this morning.

Fuck, I was half tempted to jump off the landing before even setting foot in his office just to end the anxiety that was welling up in my chest, making it harder to breathe the closer I got to that office door.