Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Stone
Five days later …
Sweat beads on my forehead as the sun beats down on me while I wait for my target.
There’s something off about today. I know it. I’m just too damn scared to question it and what it’ll mean.
Taking Sienna’s virginity was risky as hell, but I wouldn’t change a damn thing about it. Who am I kidding? I’d last longer, that’s for sure. But aren’t first times meant to be quick? We both came. The passion and love were there, and it was every fucking thing I could wish for. How many other people can say they have such an incredible experience for their first time? That their soul mate just gave them a onetime gift that will replay in their mind and keep on giving for as long as they live.
Fuck, I need to find a way to keep her.
Thinking about her gets me hard all over again, which is a distraction from the task at hand. I’m standing outside an apartment block waiting for some dude with a permanent I’m dead inside expression so I can shoot him in the neck and send a photo as evidence to my father.
The cuts on my knuckles from the fight two nights ago are a lingering reminder of a match that didn’t go to plan. My fists pounded into the guy so hard and fast I was dragged out of the ring by my two trainers, Cole and Jace. Something inside me snapped, and all my pent-up aggression came out and was unleashed into the savage beast I struggle to control. It was a match I was supposed to play to my brother’s tune, leaving it open for a rematch so they would gain more green, but after my performance and Czar’s voice notes, I don’t think my opponent will be ready for a rematch any time soon, if ever again.
A knot of anxiety sits in my stomach like a lead weight bringing me down. Everything about today is off, and I relate it back to Sienna somehow. My target isn’t familiar to me, but I feel like he should be, that I’m missing something, a big something, and that feeling is only exacerbated with every moment that ticks by.
Nerves dance in my stomach, and I’m tempted to follow the path on my hand, the one that soothes me and brings me back to the here and now.
The sound of the door to the apartment block opening has me snapping out of my daze, and I slink back into the shadows. My throat becomes dry as he strolls toward his car without a care in the world.
What is it about this man that sends a responding shiver down my spine and causes my stomach to flip with a rare anxiousness I’m not used to? I step out from behind the wall and scan the parking lot. It’s empty, and I have to wonder if this is some sort of setup. It couldn’t possibly be this easy, could it?
Getting closer to him—something I rarely ever do—I take my gun from my waistband and stride across the parking lot with purpose.
Something inside me screams I’m making a huge mistake.
Don’t do it.
It’s not what you think.
You’re going to regret it.
There’s something familiar about him, yet not, but the pain in my head when I try to find clarity intensifies. I wish more than ever to get this job over with. To take the pain and confusion away.
Electric shocks hit my temple, and I rub my forehead. This always fucking happens when I try to dig deeper into my past than I should, and this is another reason I shouldn’t, yet his walk is something I’ve witnessed before. I know it. It’s straight, calculated. His entire demeanor has a familiar air of confidence and seriousness to it. Something I know I’ve seen before.
Why the fuck can’t I remember more?
A haze forms in front of me, and my feet fumble as I feel like I’m unraveling at lightning speed.
This is wrong.
This entire job is wrong.
He slowly turns, and it’s now or never. In the blink of an eye, I make the decision, one that could cost me my life but save his. I take aim, but instead of doing as instructed, I hit his shoulder because that voice inside of me is telling me I will regret killing him. It’s telling me I need to remember.
Hitting the ground, his head bounces off the tarmac, causing me to wince on his behalf. Another red flag. I never show sympathy for my targets. Ever.
Why the fuck should I? They did us wrong, and I’m the man they send to make amends.
Until now.
Unable to help myself, I move closer and fight back the lump in my throat.
Bad idea, Stone. Terrible idea.
But something about him draws me in. I need to know; I need to see him for myself.
Bending down, I roll him onto his back. Blood oozes from the bullet wound on his shoulder, then his eyes flicker open and lock with mine, and I rear back on my heels.
Bright-blue eyes with a despondent look stare back at me. They widen, and his mouth falls open in what I can only describe as disbelief.
He knows me.
A flash of hurt lances through my chest at the thought of him knowing me when my memories are so absent, but I do know he’s familiar, and the decision to not kill him was the right one to make.
His mobile phone sits beside him, out of reach, and without second-guessing myself, I grab it and shove it into his hand. I’m not sure what I expect him to do. His eyes have now rolled to the back of his head and his chest rises rapidly.
Should I help him?
I’m frozen to the spot, my brain short-circuiting, then I cut my eyes across the parking lot. Nobody is coming, nobody will save him.
“Fuck!” I drag a hand over my shaved head and stare down at him. Those bright-blue eyes are now lifeless, but they blend into those of a woman I only recognize in my dreams as her image flashes before me, making my heart freefall. I know what I have to do.
“Don’t make me regret this, motherfucker.” My heart thunders, so I take his phone and dial 911.
I’m about to save the man I was sent to kill, and that ball of dread inside me now sits heavier than ever before.