Page 39 of The Monster’s Weakness

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Your death will end the contract. You choose.”

As pissed off as Caleb was, he had plans for this rich bitch. She was going to spend the rest of her life rotting in prison. Death would be too quick, too easy.

He had all the information now leading Pembroke’s contract and the embezzlement to her. But he also knew Kassian was on a mission now and wouldn’t stop until Gemma was dead.

“I’ll call the police. You have nothing on me.”

“You can’t call if you’re dead,” he said.

“And who are you exactly? Who hired you? That girl couldn’t even pay for her medication, how could she pay you? I’ll give you three times, four times, what she’s paying you.”

He scoffed.

“Your ride’s here.” The front of the house lit up with police sirens. It’s why he’d been careful to wear his black face mask. He wasn’t going down, only her.

He left her sitting in her fancy chair and slipped out the back before the place was surrounded. His car was parked a couple blocks away, but he went through backyards to get to the street over, hopping fences, then walked the rest of the way. The anonymous tip with all the evidence they’d need for a clean-cut prosecution had already been sent to the authorities. They were there to collect Pembroke’s wife.

As he drove away, he pulled off the mask and took off his gloves. He headed back to his safe house, back to Gemma. It felt like going home, and he’d been searching for that feeling since he was twelve years old. No money could buy it, he knew that now.

He couldn’t keep risking Gemma’s health. Caleb decided after this nightmare was over, he’d be selective about his contracts. Money wasn’t an issue for him, not when he’d been making millions on hits for years.

It’s what his friends Evander and Bastian did. They cherry-picked their contracts, taking ones that let them sleep at night. This was the life he knew but it was time to change things up a bit—for her.

The city slipped past the windows as he drove, the glow of streetlights streaking across the windshield.

It was done. Or as close to done as anything in his life ever got. Before midnight, she would be in custody. Maybe sooner. There was enough evidence to bury her twice over, and enough copies scattered in enough places that no amount of money or influence could make them disappear.

And he hadn’t killed her. That should have felt like something. Redemption, maybe.

He almost laughed. Men like him didn't get redemption. But maybe they got second chances.

Chapter Fourteen

One Week Later

Caleb made his way into the bar. With Pembroke’s wife now in police custody, he had it on good authority from Bastian that the hit was over and done with. There was only one loose end—Kassian. He needed to speak with the cold-blooded killer in person.

With the wife out of the picture, the hit had been instantly dropped. No one wanted to land in the mess the wife was in. She was being blamed for Pembroke’s murder. Evidence of her embezzlement was public knowledge, but Caleb also made sure the world knew Pembroke was innocent. He was an innocent man who died trying to do the right thing. His heart had been in the right place. He needed to put that shit right, because even though he did bad things, that didn’t mean he was a bad man.

Running a hand down his face, he looked at the bourbon he poured for himself. After the past week, he’d debated leaving Gemma. Seeing her struggle the other night, what the stress had caused, was more than he could bear. However, every single person in her life had left her at some point, and he wasn’t going to be another one.

He loved her. From the moment he stared into her startled, yet determined eyes all those months ago, she had gotten under his skin, and now there was no way back, and he didn’t want a way back. He understood Evander now more than ever.

Gemma never ended up having a relapse last week, and he was grateful for it. The flare was gone and he wanted a calmer life for her.

Caleb never thought he would fall for a woman. He always figured they would just be another commodity. Something for him to enjoy and move on.

He lifted his glass of bourbon and took a long healthy sip. It was good, dark, and musky, and it burned on the way down, which was exactly how he liked it.

“I think I should be insulted,” Kassian said, taking a seat beside him.

Without another word, he ordered a beer, and Caleb shook his head.

“All the fine wines and spirits, all the alcohol, and you’re going for a beer?” Caleb asked.

“I’m a simple man at heart. I don’t need fancy shit. Just something quick to quench the thirst. What is all this about?” Kassian asked.