Chapter 33
Idon’t come when I’m called. I’m not anyone’s fucking dog. But this time ... I’m making an exception.
The iron gate out by the street clangs shut as I wait silently in Temperance Ransom’s apartment. The treads of the spiral staircase creak, signaling her ascent. A few seconds later, her keys jangle and she unlocks the door. When she pushes it open, I step out of the shadows of her miniature living room.
Temperance’s entire body tenses when she sees me, her big brown eyes going wide with shock and fear as her purse lands on the floor beside her with a thump.
I don’t like that panicked look on her face, especially not when it’s aimed in my direction.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Her husky voice punches me in the gut, just like it does every time she speaks.
I shouldn’t have touched her that first time at the club ... or the second ... or the third, but how the hell was I supposed to stop myself?
She stares at me, barely blinking, waiting for me to answer.
Small talk isn’t exactly a skill you acquire in my line of work, so I keep it simple. “I heard you need help.”
“He sent you? Why? What the hell is going on?”
All fair questions, but none I can answer for her right now. “We gotta move. Come on.”
I take a step toward her, and Temperance shrinks back. As much as the move cuts me, I can’t fault her instincts for not trusting me.
She shouldn’t. It’ll keep her alive longer.
“Who are you?” she whispers.
That’s one question I have to answer, even though she’s not going to want to hear it.
“I’m the man who just took a half-million-dollar contract to kill your brother.”