The Mercenary and the Mortician (The Silent Hollow #1)

7. Cal Walker

Alexa, play: Too Good - Able Heart

I found myself back at my new favorite house several hours later. This time, I had switched out the sunglasses for my skull bandana. I had it tugged up over the lower half of my face in case they had exterior cameras.

I could have taken the time to investigate and disable any cameras, but realistically, if I ended up murdering this guy, I could just do that later. I was getting that twitchy itch that tended to creep up if I went too long without murder or a good fuck, and I was getting anxious to just get to the act itself.

Murder and sex were more or less interchangeable for me. I could go without one but not the other, and since I had stopped partying so frequently, I had been finding it more difficult to come across willing assholes to sink my dick into.

Because, in case you haven’t figured it out yet, assholes were my preference. I had tried pussy a few times because, let’s be serious, I’ll fuck anyone if I’m rolling on molly. However, the older I got, the more I realized I had a pretty complicated relationship with women. One that didn’t translate well into sex.

The only relationships I had with women were with my fucked up mother and my two precious sisters, neither of which really gave me ‘let’s get naked’ vibes.

It was too common for me to be hooking up with a girl, then blink and suddenly find my demon-ass mother looking up at me. The first time that happened, I had almost killed the poor girl.

Cass had made me go to therapy after that. Turns out I suffer from PTSD, and my triggers become more volatile when I’m aroused.

I think I would have identified as bi if I didn’t have so much emotional trauma around women. So, for the time being, I was going with gay, and that was just A-OK with me.

I loved fucking dudes. There was just something about bending over a pretty alpha male and making him see Jesus through his asshole. Nothing got me off faster than a good ol’ fight for dominance that ended with me literally on top.

The angry muscle girl from earlier floated to the forefront of my mind as I stalked through the shadows and made my way to the back of the large funeral home.

If she had been a man, she was exactly the type of asshole I would get extreme pleasure from either murdering or fucking.

Like I said.

Interchangeable.

Wondering if I would catch another glimpse of the angry muscle woman while on my stalking adventure, I found myself peering into the warm glow of one of the back windows. She was masc enough that I wondered if I would be able to stomach a hookup without triggering myself… My dick had certainly reacted positively at the sight of her. Maybe she swung both ways.

Hmm.

There was a massive garage back here that seemed to have a guest house built on top. The garage door was open, and two huge hearses were parked inside.

I grinned again.

Fucking sick.

Maybe I should buy a hearse? Suddenly, my Bentley felt super boring. Scratching my chin and filing the idea away for later contemplation, I returned my attention to peeking inside the home.

This back part of the structure was decorated much differently than the public space I had entered earlier.

Everything was still done in the original Victorian architecture, but it was much less somber.

This part was clearly where the family actually lived, and it was full of handmade lace doilies and tablecloths. There was a kitchen that was all pastels with cabinets that were mint green and ruffled salmon-pink drapes.

It looked like it could star on the cover of ‘Granny Magazine,’ if there even was such a thing. I smirked and moved onto the next window, making sure to stay flat against the side of the house so my silhouette wouldn’t be spotted by anyone inside.

This next room was painted in a similar mint green with an accent wall done in vintage wallpaper. There was an ancient coral couch on one side, and the little kid from earlier was sitting cross-legged on the floor watching TV.

There you are. Found you.

My smile widened behind my bandana, and I leaned against the wall, settling in for the more tedious part of my hobby.

Waiting.

If you’re considering a fun and exciting career as a mercenary, let me tell you, it’s not all stabbing and killing. Most of what I do is shit like this. I camp out in my car or on rooftops, following marks around and learning their patterns and behaviors. There’s also a lot of research involved too.

Like today for example, before coming back to Fairview Funerals, I spent quite a bit of time learning everything I could about the Fairview family.

Muscles, who I had spoken to earlier, was actually named Theodora, and she was the elder of the two. Her brother, Ryan, though younger, had been the one to take over the family business when their father, George, died a few years earlier.

There was a picture of Ryan online and, let me tell you… I had been expecting the dude who ran this place to look like mother fucking Lurch from the Addams family. The last thing I had been expecting was this red-headed demi-god of a man who was all biceps, stubble, and clean lines. I wasn’t sure what they were injecting into the Fairview kid’s genes, but they were both hot as fuck balls.

Which was annoying.

Especially if it turned out I would have to murder one of them. It kind of took sex off the table.

But alas, I would survive.

The ginger-haired sex god in question walked into the room abruptly, and my jaw literally dropped.

That picture online had not done him justice.

Forget muscles. I was suddenly craving a ginger snap.

He was wearing a grey ‘Fairview Funerals’ T-shirt that strained over his firm biceps and relaxed fit Levi’s.

I gobbled up the sight of him and, much to my chagrin, my cock twitched in my pants.

I was suddenly hella glad I hadn’t been a lazy fuck today. I had taken the extra step to strap my holster on under my hoodie instead of just jamming my gun into my waistband.

Damian hated it when I did that. I guess I couldn’t fault him for that. He was just looking out for the well-being of my dick… which was probably a sign that he cared.

As much as I didn’t like to give that asshole too much credit for anything, I was glad I had listened to his advice this time. There was only room for one weapon in my pants tonight, and apparently, that was my fucking cock.

Jesus Christ.

What did this dude eat?

He said something to the kid that I couldn’t hear through the thick glass. The boy jumped and spun around. I frowned, my cock softening slightly.

The kid had flinched like he had been expecting to get hit.

Ryan’s brow creased into a dark frown. He stepped closer to the kid, who scrambled quickly to his feet.

Ryan said something else, the expression on his face darkening further. The kid looked up at him with wide eyes and started shaking his head frantically as he backed away. Tears filled his eyes, which seemed to anger Ryan even more.

The ginger-haired man grabbed the kid by the shoulders and crouched down on his level. The boy let out a cry that I couldn’t hear and jerked away from Ryan with clear pain and terror written on every line of his face.

Fat tears spilled down his cheeks, but Ryan’s grip only seemed to tighten on the boy’s shoulders. A vein was pulsing in his forehead, and he suddenly yelled at the boy from mere inches away.

Rage exploded through me, and my hand slid into my hoody of its own accord, my fingers twitching on the butt of my gun.

Hard-on officially gone.

I was going to fucking kill this mother fucker.

Flashbacks of my mother grabbing me like that and screaming in my face consumed me.

Devil boy! You’re a stain on this world! I should kill you before you can infest mankind with Satan’s plans!

With my dead mother’s words echoing in my ears, I spun away before I totally lost my cool and shot the man in the head right through the window.

That was all the confirmation I fucking needed.

I would wait until the rest of the house was asleep, and then I would break in and claim my prize.

Hopefully, Ryan Fairview was enjoying his little power trip because this was the last fucking time he would lay a finger on that kid.

Still fuming with unbridled rage, I stalked back to my Bentley to get the rest of my murder shit.

It was going to be a fun fucking night.