Chapter 3
Cade reluctantly relinquished his hold on Tris’s warm body to take his hand and pull him toward the food…
and toward Cade’s intended target. Rocco Albertini was a piece of shit human trafficker who viewed himself as a tough guy.
He liked to throw his money around—money he made off the backs of undocumented immigrants—to try to convince others he had some kind of power.
But he didn’t. He was a gambler with an addiction that had left him owing the wrong people.
Had Rocco simply stayed in debt to those people, it might have cost him a few broken bones, but he likely would have lived.
Instead, he’d chosen option two: robbing Peter to pay Paul, ripping off a man who had a zero-tolerance policy on stealing.
A man who had paid to put Rocco on a list, and beside his name was a large sum of money.
Money Cade planned to collect after making Rocco and his collection of bad suits disappear.
When they entered the dining area, people stood, champagne glasses in hand, making small talk that created a sort of white noise in the space. Tris craned his neck to look at the plates stacked on the trays of the servers who passed, wrinkling his nose at everything.
“What’s the matter, Wiggles? Nothing doing it for you?” Cade asked.
Tris jerked his head toward him. “What did you call me?”
Cade raised a brow. “Wiggles. You wiggle.”
Tris’s face fell like Cade had said something malicious. He’d clearly hurt his feelings. Was it rude to point out something a person had already acknowledged about themselves? He’d never really cared before now. But he didn’t like the look of betrayal on Tris’s pretty face.
“That’s not a compliment. That’s the name of a scary clown in a horror movie,” Tris pouted.
Cade couldn’t fight his smile. “For the record, I like it. You’re cute. Like a puppy.”
Tris blinked at him. “A…puppy?”
“Yeah. It’s a compliment,” Cade clarified. “I like animals. It’s humans who suck. You’re like an animal in human form. So, you’re perfect.”
Tris’s eyes went wide. “I’m…perfect?”
“Mm,” Cade said.
“Then just call me puppy. Save Wiggles for the creepy clowns.”
Cade grinned. “Let’s find something to put in your mouth…puppy.”
Tris barked out a laugh before slapping a hand over said mouth when others turned to stare. “I’m starting to think you don’t have any filter either.”
“Life’s too short to filter yourself. I’d much rather say what I mean than leave any room for ambiguity. That’s where things get muddy,” Cade said.
Tris looked…relieved, but also a little bemused, like he still wasn’t sure he could trust Cade. To be fair, Tris shouldn’t trust him. Cade was an emotionless psychopath who killed for sport as much as for money.
He didn’t need to kill. It wasn’t some compulsion he had. He didn’t become increasingly unhinged if his bloodlust went unsatisfied. But he did like the surge of power he felt when he took someone’s life. It was a rush. A jolt to his bloodstream, like a hit of heroin.
One kill could feed him for a while. Not that it needed to. He was a hired killer, and business was booming. As long as he remained selective about his jobs—no women, no children, no good guys—he seemed to have no problem staying under the radar. Nobody cared when the bad guys went missing.
Still, lately, he’d started to notice something he hadn’t before: the work didn’t thrill him like it used to.
The last few kills had felt mechanical, like he was going through the motions to keep up a score he didn’t even care about anymore.
The Heartstopper app made it all too easy—names, locations, payouts.
But Tris…Tris was a reminder there were still things in the world that felt alive.
“The food here sucks,” Tris sulked, pulling Cade from his thoughts.
“How so?”
“That one has mushrooms, which have the consistency of, like, human brains—”
“You’ve tasted human brains?” Cade interrupted.
“No, but I’ve seen one, and it looks rubbery like a mushroom or calamari,” Tris said, shivering in disgust. He pointed to another server. “That one has salmon on it. Raw fish. Like, who eats raw fish?”
“Millions of people,” Cade observed.
Tris ignored him. “And that one…fish eggs. It’s bad enough they killed the fish and couldn’t even be bothered to cook it, but to also feast on their unborn children? What did fish ever do to these people?”
Cade’s lips twitched as he fought the urge to smile. “Your mind is truly a fascinating place.”
“Thanks,” Tris said absently, clearly still mourning his lack of options.
“Are you vegan or something?” Cade asked.
Tris’s face screwed into a look of confusion. “Huh?”
“You seem awfully concerned about the fish and their eggs,” Cade reminded him.
“I’m just being dramatic because I’m hungry,” Tris moaned, once more doing this sort of full-body flounce that Cade found adorable.
Had he ever found anything in his life adorable? He tried to search his memory, but not a single thing came to mind. Tris was like some cosmic glitch that made Cade’s programming falter. A bug in his system. Dangerous in all the wrong ways and all the right ones.
Cade grabbed Tris by the upper arm and pulled him to the side of the room, parking him against an empty wall. “Stay right here.”
Tris frowned. “What? No. You can’t ditch me here.”
“Right here,” Cade said, as if Tris hadn’t spoken. “Don’t. Move.”
“I’m gonna move. If you leave me here, I’m gonna move,” Tris threatened, already working his face into another pout.
“You can wiggle all you want, but your butt better not leave this wall until I get back,” Cade warned.
“Or what?” Tris challenged, tilting his chin up in a fight-me gesture.
Cade leaned into his space like they weren’t in a crowded room. “You really need to stop trying to push me, puppy eyes. It’s almost like you want to be punished.”
“Are you into, like…kinky shit?” Tris asked, eyes shining with curiosity.
Cade grinned. Was he? The thought of punishing Tris had his cock hardening immediately. “Not really, but for you, I’d make an exception. Now, stay.”
“I’m not actually a puppy, you know,” Tris muttered as he slouched against the wall.
Cade rolled his eyes. “Yes. Noted.”
He scanned the room, searching for someone in charge.
Clearly, there had to be a vending machine of sorts somewhere on the ship.
If not, he’d bribe the staff to let him into the kitchen to get Tris something to eat that didn’t have gills or brains.
His gaze fell to a man in a uniform similar to the one worn by the guy who’d told Tris he had to get rid of his candy.
He was halfway there when he saw Albertini break from his group and leave the room, cell phone in hand.
Fuck. He glanced back at Tris, who had pulled out his phone.
He was rapidly pushing buttons, but, somehow, Cade didn’t think he was texting someone.
He hoped he wasn’t texting anybody else. Maybe he was playing a game?
Either way, he seemed temporarily distracted.
Cade could probably take care of Albertini and make it back with a bag of Doritos before Tris started to get suspicious.
His brain automatically pulled up the Heartstopper interface in his mind—one new contract completed, one target erased—but for the first time, it didn’t feel like winning.
It felt like leaving Tris unattended. Vulnerable.
And that made something sharp twist in his chest.
He changed course, following the man from the room. He tracked him from a distance, watching as he took a deserted passageway, phone in hand, clearly looking for a quiet place to make a call.
Cade reached into his pocket, grabbing the steel cord coiled within.
If he took him by surprise, he’d never have a chance to make a sound.
They were reaching the end of the narrow corridor.
Albertini stepped into a room with an open metal door.
Cade quickly closed the distance, needing to get the cord around his neck before the man was aware of his presence.
He moved, lightning quick, slipping the garrote around his neck and cinching it tight before the man even had time to process what was happening. Instinctively, Albertini’s hands went to the cord, trying to pry fat fingers underneath to relieve the pressure, but it was no use.
Cade had a knee jammed against his back and his grip was relentless, pulling tighter until his muscles burned both with the effort of strangling the man and keeping him upright so he wasn’t crushed beneath his dead weight.
Only when the man stopped flailing did Cade ease up, letting him collapse to the ground.
He winced at the blood seeping from where the cord had embedded itself into the man’s neck, donning a pair of nitrile gloves before he kneeled beside him to ensure there was no pulse.
When he was satisfied the man was no longer with them, he pulled the gloves free and turned—
To find Tris standing in the now open doorway, mouth gaping as his eyes darted from the bloated corpse on the ground to the gloves in his hand.
“Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, my God.”
“Calm down, puppy.”
“Don’t you puppy me right now,” Tris gasped.
“This isn’t what it looks like,” Cade said calmly.
Tris turned his startled gaze toward him. “It’s not? You didn’t just strangle him to death?”
Cade stopped short. “How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough to know you’re a fucking murderer!” Tris shouted.
Cade winced, dragging Tris into the room and slamming the steel door shut before locking them both inside. Tris’s gaze shot to the now locked door then back to Cade, tone accusatory as he said, “Oh, what? Now, you’re going to kill me, too?”
Before Cade could assure him that wasn’t his intention, Tris rolled his eyes. “You know, this just fucking figures.”
“What?” Cade asked, feeling like he’d lost the plot.
“I meet this guy who seems cute and nice and doesn’t seem to care about my verbal diarrhea or that I can’t stop moving, and, of course—of course—he’s a fucking serial killer.”
“I’m not a serial killer,” Cade said, incensed.
Tris’s eyes bugged. “Oh, I’m sorry. Is that term offensive? Is there some politically correct way to say that you’re a goddamn psychopath?”
Cade shook his head, trying to clear it. When the fuck had this gone so far off the rails? “Okay,” he started, finger pointed at Tris. “I am a psychopath. I’ll give you that. But I’m not a serial killer… I’m a hitman.”
Tris blinked at him for a long moment before yelling, “You’re still a fucking killer?!”
“Yeah, but they’re all terrible people,” Cade promised, waving a hand. “Especially this guy.”
“My mom’s a terrible person, too. Are you going to kill her?” Tris wailed.
“I mean, if someone paid me to, maybe. I’d do it for you for free, though,” Cade offered.
“What? No!” Tris snapped.
“Alright,” Cade said, confused. “But you’re kind of sending me mixed messages.”
“How about this? If you come anywhere near me, I’m gonna scream,” Tris said, holding a hand out in front of him.
Cade snatched Tris’s extended arm, yanking him deeper into the room and slamming him hard against the wall, covering his mouth with his hand. “I can’t let you leave until we’ve figured this out.”
Tris began to shout at him, eyes wide and lips warm against his skin. “I have no idea what you’re saying, but if you just calm down, take a deep breath, and hear me out…I’ll move my hand. Deal?”
Tris glowered at him for a long moment before huffing out an angry breath and giving a reluctant nod.
“Good,” Cade said, relieved to be past that hurdle. He dropped his hand so he could speak. “Now, what did you want to say?”
“Are you going to kill me, too?” Tris asked, trembling.
Cade sighed, shaking his head. “Of course not. I mean, I should. It would be the smart thing to do.” He cupped Tris’s cheek. “But I don’t think I can do it. Not you. Not now. Not ever.”
“I could tell,” Tris said stubbornly. “I could tell everybody what you did.”
Cade frowned, genuinely confused. “Do you want me to kill you?”
“No. I want you to feel bad about killing someone,” Tris snapped, trying to push Cade away.
Cade sighed. “I can’t feel bad about that.”
“Must be nice to be so morally convicted,” Tris said, eyes straying to the dead body on the floor.
“It has nothing to do with morals. I really am a psychopath. I can’t feel guilt. Or remorse. Or empathy. Those things don’t exist for me. They didn’t come pre-installed in my factory settings.”
Tris opened and closed his mouth a few times before finally saying, “I don’t know what to do with that information.”
“You don’t have to do anything with it. Just…understand that this guy being dead is the best-case scenario for thousands of people.”
Tris chewed on his lip for a moment until Cade used his thumb to rescue it. After a second, his eyes went wide, his gaze once more accusatory. “Wait…if you’re a hitman, then you planned this. You planned to kill him. On this ship. On our date. Was I—” His face fell. “Was I your alibi?”
Cade swallowed hard. “Yeah. That was the plan. But it’s not anymore.”
Tris blinked. “What do you mean?”
Cade’s jaw worked. “I mean, the moment you showed up, the job stopped being a job. I still did what I had to, but this time, it felt…different. Like I wasn’t just in it for the thrill of it.” His voice softened, his tone almost bewildered. “You make me forget it’s supposed to be a game.”