2. Chapter Two
Chapter Two
LYNX
My sigh melts through the cold, damp warehouse air as I roll a lumpy prick named Richard up in the sheet of plastic I laid down before I dragged him here to kill him.
His naked flesh makes a disturbing sound as it slides against the plastic, and I can’t help but groan. There are days I find myself bored of the same monotonous routine. The same sick sounds. The same pathetic pleas for mercy.
His body releases an unexpected bubble of gas, and I pause to throw my forearm over my nose.
The smells.
But death is my job. My livelihood. My entire existence revolves around watching people take their last breath. It’s what I was recruited by my great uncle, Severo, to do at the tender age of fourteen, and I’m damn good at it.
It’s … cathartic. Which is why even though I could afford to fully retire at the age of thirty-five, I remain dutifully employed, disposing of the world’s trash for whoever’s willing to pay, unattached to anything with a heartbeat.
Women included. Occasionally I’ll pick one up at a bar for a quick fuck to release some pent-up sexual frustration.
I give her a fake name, screw her wherever is most convenient, then send her on her merry way, none the wiser that she just allowed a monster inside of her.
I finish bundling Richard up in the material his body will eventually decompose in and drag his dead weight across the concrete floor and out of the garage door to my truck.
He’s a big boy, but luckily, I’m no stranger to hard work.
Sweat forms on my hairline as I pull him up the ramp propped against my tailgate and lay him down in the bed of my truck, folding the tonneau cover down and sliding the ramp in beside him.
Neat and tidy. Just how I like it.
Less than an hour later, I’m in a completely different warehouse meeting up with Joey, the twenty-two-year-old who’s been assigned to assist me with jobs.
I roll the bloated prick out of the bed of my truck, his stiff body making a sickening splat when it hits the concrete.
Joey is quick to step up, wheeling a dolly with an empty oil barrel over.
We glance at the barrel. At the size of Richard. Then we lock eyes and both shrug.
“I’ll get the Sawzall,” Joey says with far too much enthusiasm before sauntering off in the direction of the cabinet of tools we keep for situations like this.
I have to give the kid credit. He may be built like a fucking twig, but he’s determined and doesn’t question me when I order him to do something.
Reminds me a little of myself when I was younger and in his position.
When Severo took me in, I was nothing more than a teenage orphan who had a knack for committing petty crimes in order to survive.
It’s likely I would’ve ended up in prison or dead if he hadn’t filed a request for guardianship over me and my younger sister, Lily.
He took me under his wing when I had no ambitions. No dreams or aspirations. No hope of a future.
But somehow, he lit a fire under my ass. And it’s been burning hot ever since.
Richard makes another gurgling noise just as my phone vibrates in my back pocket. I retrieve it and see my uncle’s name flashing across the screen.
I take the call, not bothering with pleasantries because Severo doesn’t care much for small talk. Something we have in common.
“Need you to come by the house when you’ve got a minute, Lynx.” His voice is raspier than usual, weaker and sort of hollow. He’s pushing eighty now, so I chalk it up to him growing ripe in his old age.
I glance over at Joey, who’s swapping out the dull blade on the saw for a fresh one. No doubt he’ll need something sharp to cut through Richard’s wide girth. But judging by the determination lighting his comically wide brown eyes, I’d say he’s just fine to handle this on his own.
“I’ll be there in a couple of hours,” I clip out, then end the call.
I whistle at Joey and he perks up.
“You’ve got this covered, kid?”
“You bet, Lynx.”
I nod and saunter back to my truck, hollering over my shoulder, “And make sure you stick around until the body is fully dissolved this time. Don’t need another nasty mishap like last time.”
I hop behind the wheel of my pickup and take off in the direction of Severo’s house.
A quick three hours later and I’m standing on the doorstep of the mansion I became a man in. It’s a monstrosity of pale grey stonework and glass, the main entrance comprised of two solid wood doors that could stop an army from entering.
The shrubs surrounding the building are all perfectly manicured, the driveway freshly paved and swept regularly by groundskeepers.
The place is fucking immaculate.
Ringing the doorbell, I crack my neck both ways, feeling more tense than usual.
The thought of taking a vacation somewhere sunny and hot creeps into my mind. But I stomp it down because any time I’ve tried that, I grow itchy with boredom within a couple of days and cut it short.
When the doors finally part way, I come face-to-face with Connor, Severo’s entitled shithead of a grandson. At twenty-seven, he’s a grown-ass man that behaves like a spoiled brat. And the ridiculous pile of over-gelled, curly blond hair on top of his head screams frat boy.
Even though I’ve made it clear I don’t want a dollar of Severo’s money someday when he dies, this prick seems to think otherwise. As if the second Severo takes his last breath, I’m going to go hunt down a lawyer and rip apart his grandfather’s will.
It’s a laughable concept, considering I make more money on a single contract than Connor earns in an entire goddamn year with his cute little real estate business.
Fuck. What I wouldn’t give to punch him square in his clean-shaven jaw.
But all that would do is pour fuel on the fire. And cost me the otherwise calm and lucrative relationship I have with my uncle. Severo trusts his grandson for reasons unknown. And I’m forced to swallow the words that dangle on my tongue and power through it for the sake of keeping the peace.
“Connor,” I greet him coolly.
“Lynx,” he responds blandly, reluctantly moving to the side and gesturing for me to enter. I step over the threshold onto the polished marble floor of the foyer.
“My grandfather is in his study,” Connor tells me, his tone pretentious and overflowing with disdain.
And is that a fake British accent I’m detecting?
What a douche.
He closes the door behind me and leads the way down the long hallway on the main floor. As if I haven’t walked this walk a thousand times. Every painting I pass, every tile beneath my boots is just as familiar as the last.
We enter Severo’s study, an office lined with floor-to-ceiling wooden shelves, all stuffed with old books worth more than their weight in gold.
The furniture is all handcrafted from rich mahogany and facing the focal point of the room—a large stone fireplace with a solid wood beam as a mantel.
Perched on the ledge are various trinkets, frames filled with photos of my uncle shaking hands with famous politicians and actors, and a couple tall brass candlesticks that were passed down through several Archer generations.
And seated in a burgundy wingback chair in front of the dancing fire is my frail, aging uncle.
He stands, wincing as his joints pop and crack. When he reaches his full height—a whopping five feet four inches—he hobbles over to me with an outstretched hand.
I meet him halfway because fuck, the old geezer looks like he’s about ready to tip over and expire. He’s lost weight since the last time I saw him, his Armani suit practically hanging off him now. And the remaining white hair on his head is growing thin and wiry.
But he’s still sharp as a whip, his mind completely intact.
“It’s nice to see you again, kid. Been too long.”
“You too, sir.”
He slides his bony hand into mine and shakes it, then gestures for us to take a seat at the fire. It takes him longer than normal to shuffle over to his chair and lower himself into it.
I wait for him to settle in before taking the seat across from him, sinking into the plush cushion and resting my hands on the arms.
The fire crackles and snaps, much like my nerves, as I sit impatiently waiting for the details of my next contract.
“Connor,” he croaks out. “Pour us each a whiskey, would ya?”
I don’t need to glance at Connor to know he’s glaring at me now. But since his biggest fear is being cut out of Severo’s will, he mutters something under his breath and gives us his back to pour the drinks.
“I trust the last job is tidied up?” Severo asks.
I tip my chin. “Joey’s cleaning it up as we speak.”
“Very good. I like that boy. Seems eager.”
“He is. And loyal.”
“That’s good, son. Glad you decided to take him under your wing.”
“Just paying it forward, sir.”
He nods in acknowledgment, pride entering his expression.
“Well, let’s get down to business, shall we?” he says, leaning forward and tossing a manila file onto the coffee table between us.
Without hesitation, I grab it and skim through the contents, the oxygen in my lungs growing stale when I come to a photo of the target.
Surprised, I lift my gaze to his.
“Sir—“
Severo holds a hand in the air to cut me off.
“I know, Lynx. You don’t need to remind me of my own rules.”
Connor appears in my periphery and sets a crystal tumbler down on the table beside me, his irritation penetrating my jacket and scratching along my nerves as the nosy shit peers over my shoulder.
I snap the file shut and glare at him. He takes the hint and backs away as I face my uncle again.
I’ve never doubted Severo in the past because he’s never given me a reason to. But the hesitation on his face tells me I’m not the only one who feels uneasy about this.
“Who’s the buyer?”
“They’ve chosen to remain anonymous. Paid twice the price to ensure it stays that way.”
“How much time do I have?”
“As much as you need. Keep it clean and tidy.”
“Very well, then.” I stand and tuck the file under my arm, casting a shadow over my withering uncle. “Consider it done, sir.”
He nods once before telling me, “Lily is coming home for Thanksgiving.”
The mention of my baby sister anchors my feet to the floor.
Lily’s three years my junior, so she was placed in my uncle’s immediate care when our parents died. But we’ve always been close, despite the vast differences in our lives. Her, a well-known therapist living in California. Me, a contract killer.
When Severo sat me down in this very office and made me privy to this life, we agreed Lily’s far too sweet, smart, and caring to get tangled up in the business.
Which is why he shipped her off to an all-girls school when she started asking questions.
Then he paid for her to attend whatever university she wanted, ensuring she was well protected and wouldn’t be affected by the seedy lives we live.
It might not be right to hide it from her. But it’s necessary to keep her safe.
It’ll be good to have her home for a few days.
“Apparently she has news for the family,” Severo adds, chuckling humorlessly as he cocks a brow at me as if to ask whether I know anything about it.
When I say nothing because I haven’t heard from Lily in weeks, he grunts out, “I fear it may be a man. Lord help me, I hope not. My ticker can’t handle any more stress. ”
I can’t help the smirk that tugs at my lips. The thought of some tanned California guy who probably surfs on weekends seated at a dinner table with my family, sweating bullets while the head of an assassin corporation stares him down … Priceless.
“Lily’s a smart woman, sir. You raised her well. If it’s a man, I’m sure she’s chosen wisely.”
Severo swats me away like a pesky fly, and I turn to leave, flashing Connor a wink on the way out just to piss him off.
But once my boots cross the threshold of my uncle’s mansion, it’s back to business.
Seated behind the steering wheel of my pickup, I flip the file open and rifle through it until I find the page I’m looking for.
Staring down at the photo of the target, I clench my teeth and think things through.
If I wasn’t going to hell before, then I certainly will be after this.