Page 137 of Knife For Hire

Until I hang upside down ten feet away from Cinnamon above the acid.

The Only Dish on His Menu

Kale

There is fear that fills me up like a balloon. That festers.

“Get your shit together. This is the only factory left, she has to be here,” Orzo growls from the driver’s seat.

Reuben shifts beside him, pulling out a gun and checking the magazine.

“Kale, you don’t have to go in. We can handle this,” he offers without looking back.

Clenching my hands into fists, a memory surfaces.

Of when Reuben and I decided we would kill our dads.

“Do you remember when your father died?” I ask, watching him in the rear-view mirror.

He glances to Orzo, his eyes widening in shock.

“I know you two killed him.” Orzo whips a corner, ignoring the red light entirely and the horns that follow us.

“Of course you do.” Reuben runs a hand through his hair before turning in his seat. “My only regret is we didn’t kill him sooner. I wish my mom could have been around to know he was dead. That her years of suffering didn’t go unpunished.”

“That’s how I feel. I should have killed my father when we had the chance.” I swallow thickly, adjusting my glasses.

My mind flashes to Cinnamon. My pulse pounds in my ears as I think of a thousand “what if” scenarios that end in her death.

“Five years ago, he came to me. Told me his plans for the poison. To filter it back into this town. I tried to take him out. But at that point he no longer trusted me, and so I ran. I ended up on the force.”

“With a captain who was under your father’s thumb,” Orzo bites, accelerating the car and weaving in and out of traffic. “We’re five minutes out. Are you coming or staying?”

Cinnamon’s face flashes behind my eyes.

The curve of her lips. The brightness in her hypnotic eyes. The love I don’t deserve.