3. Kade
CHAPTER THREE
KADE
B lood coats my hands as I drag his limp body toward the dumpster where I plan to leave his body. It’s trash day tomorrow, so there’s a good chance no one will find the body until it gets to the dump, or better yet, not at all.
Not that they’ll be able to trace it back to me.
When you’ve been doing this job for as long as I have, you get very good at never leaving a trace. No one in this city even knows I exist after all.
I chuckle to myself as I haul the heavy motherfucker onto my shoulder to give me the leverage I need to toss him into the open dumpster.
Old Pete here didn’t really do anything wrong, he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and saw something he shouldn’t have, and I was the one that cleaned the mess up, just like I always am.
Once I’ve disposed of the body, I wipe my hands down my black jeans and crack my neck to the side. Remind me to start killing people in the location I’m going to dump them. It’ll make cleanup much easier and save my back from a repeat of what just happened.
I tug my phone from my pocket, and my finger twitches to check the tracker app, but I force myself to finish the job first. The more jobs I complete, the more money I have. And the more money I have, the more power I wield. And the more power I wield, the safer I can keep her.
I type out a text to the guy that employed me telling him the job is complete, and it’s only a few seconds before I receive the other half of my fee in my account.
Another kill closer to retirement.
The thought makes me shake my head. Who am I kidding? I was born for this job. I can’t imagine a day where I won’t be ending lives and being paid for it, but a guy can always dream, I suppose.
I click out of the encrypted app I use to speak to my clients and move to the trackers I have installed in every pair of shoes she owns, as well as her phone and the ratty thing she calls a handbag.
Just thinking of the threadbare item that has been falling apart for the last twelve months makes my skin crawl. I can provide for her. I could give her everything she has never dared to dream of. But she’s not ready yet. And moreover, there’s someone standing between us.
My brother.
My twin at that.
He saw her first after all. He stalked her first. And therefore, I couldn’t take her even if I wanted to. Even if we’ve never seen eye to eye and he’s actively tried to destroy my business, I can’t take away the object of his obsession because he wouldn’t survive it any more than I would.
What are the odds that we’d both become obsessed with the same girl?
Probably not that high for normal siblings. But for twins? I guess it makes sense.
The app loads, and my brows tug together.
No.
Surely not.
There’s no way sweet little innocent Waverly, the girl who has spent the last decade, and perhaps even before that, afraid of her own shadow, completely oblivious to the two shadows that lurk in the night, could be where the tracker is showing her right now.
I switch trackers to my brother’s phone and find him in the same location.
The Scarlet Lounge.
The most exclusive sex club in New York, and the last place I would expect to find my girl.
Before I can think better of it, I turn on my heel and head back toward my bike. Has my brother finally made a move while I’ve been tied up with following this sucker around the city?
Or has fate finally forced him to step into the light?