Chapter 15
Paxon
I can’t believe this is happening. I don’t even know why Wraith is still here, except it feels like I don’t have a choice but to accept his help. For this to work, I have to understand a few things, so I start with the simplest of questions.
“How did you become a hit man? No, wait. What is your name? Your real name.”
He visibly tenses, but then he nods. “I was born Henrik Olsen in Hamar, Norway.”
His accent is way more noticeable right now.
“I landed in the US in my twenties. I came here because I heard you could become anything here. I had no real skills, no experience, but I had tenacity and courage. I first lived in New York and got caught up in some illegal fighting rings. I wanted out after I saw a guy get beaten to death and no one gave a fuck.”
Odd, considering he kills people.
“Yeah, I know,” he says, acknowledging my unspoken thoughts.
“Ironic. I get it, but that was early on. Before I became what I am now. That happened after I’d been on the streets for a few years, bouncing from city to city looking for somewhere that felt like I could stay.
Like I could belong.” His eyes are glazed, as if he’s remembering things he’d rather not.
“I got involved with some guys who were handling some big-time drug smuggling, and I hated it. I hated it so much, but I didn’t know how to leave.
The boss would have hunted me down and killed me.
I knew that. I knew I’d spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder, but I was determined to break free somehow. ”
He wrings his hands, his gaze now trained on the floor. I can tell this is very hard for him to talk about, so at least I have some sense that he’s being honest.
“My years with that group turned me into someone who could do anything to survive. Even kill.”
His words make me shiver, but I sit quietly, letting him get it all out.
“The boss was drugged out and getting more and more unpredictable. I walked in on him one night and he was…” Wraith pauses as his voice tightens, clearing his throat before he continues.
“He was hurting a guy. Sexually. The other guys knew what was happening, but no one had the balls to stop it. I did. I stopped it.”
Wraith blows out a breath, and fuck, I want to go to him, comfort him, but he’s a fucking killer.
“I beat him to the point of unconsciousness and no one stopped me. They wanted me to finish him off and take over, but I didn’t want to run something like that.”
“What did you do?”
“I disappeared. I left the city and kept going until I got to Mistone. I hung out at this one bar downtown because the drinks were cheap and it was walking distance to this shitty motel I was living in. One night I saw Shadow and Stealth—uh, those are two guys I work with. Shadow runs everything. There was something about them that captured my attention. I was sure they were powerful. Special. I wanted to know more, so I followed them.” He half smiles.
“They let me get away with it for three days before they confronted me.”
“They knew you were following them?”
“Yeah. Shadow knows everything. I swear the guy has a sixth sense.”
“Did they hurt you?”
He shakes his head. “No, they just wanted to know why I was following them. They took me to a quiet table in a busy club and asked what my story was. By the time that evening was over, I’d been offered a job, a home, and what would eventually become my family.”
My brow creases. “How do you get from point A to point B there? This Shadow guy just says, ‘Hey, how would you like to kill people for me?’ Is that how it goes?”
“A little more nuanced than that. He was honest about what they did and why. He told me things he didn’t allow—drug use, substance abuse of any kind—and how much he fucking hated sex crimes.
I know it sounds weird, but his limits matched mine.
I never said I was a good guy, Bouche. I’m not.
I’m not justifying what I do. It works for me but I get that it’s not easy to accept.
It’s why I’ve never been…” He pauses, exhaling slowly.
“I’ve never been in a relationship. I wouldn’t be telling you any of this if it weren’t for how our worlds collided. ”
“Does it endanger me that you’ve told me? Like the Mafia or something?”
“You watch too many movies.”
“The Mafia is real.”
“Yeah, it is, but you only know the fictionalized version of how it runs. Besides, I’m not in the fucking Mafia.”
“How is it different?”
“We don’t run a business doing anything. We don’t run drugs or people or get involved in shit. We have very specific, targeted jobs, and like I said before, it’s not like we’re going into amusement parks and blowing the places up. The people we deal with are not good people. Usually.”
“How do you even know that? You didn’t know about Boone’s backstory, and you wouldn’t have without me. You would’ve killed him and gone on with your life.”
His brow creases and he nods. “Yes. That is uncomfortable to acknowledge.”
“Uncomfortable? He’s my fucking brother, Henrik.”
He flinches like I just punched him. “Please don’t weaponize that name against me. Wraith. Please.”
His tone is strained, almost begging, and while part of me wants to twist that knife a little, I can’t bring myself to do it.
I’m quiet for a moment, processing all of this. “How does it work? Your assignments.”
“Shadow gets the request and assigns it to one of us based on our dominant skill set. I’m called Wraith because my style is to stalk first; to haunt, if you will. I’m given targets who are evasive, in hiding, or simply difficult to track. Like Boone.”
“How did you find out he visited home games?”
Wraith shrugs. “Intel Shadow got. Whoever hired us knows more about Boone than I do.”
“And you don’t know who that is?”
“No. Shadow would.” His jaw twitches. “What else do you need to know before we focus on helping Boone?”
I slump, the fight draining out of me. None of what he told me helps or makes me feel better about being with him, but I’m not scared of him, and I might have to trust him. He may be the only way I can help my brother.
“Does it bother you?” I ask. “Killing people?”
He’s not looking at me and doesn’t make any moves to change that.
“Wraith?”
“No,” he says softly. “It doesn’t bother me.
It never has. Shadow saw something in me, something he could use, and in a weird way, something I could use too.
Because of him, I got off the streets. I never got involved in drugs or trafficking or any of the myriad ways to destroy your life.
I had a home and a family and a mission, dark as it may be.
Maybe it’s proof of how fucked up I am that I can make it okay in my head, but we’re not out here slaughtering Girl Scouts and moms. We’re hired by bad people who are usually dealing with other bad people. ”
I nod, saying nothing.
“On a positive note, Boone’s done a good job taking care of himself.
That’s proof of why we were hired. We’re very expensive because we’re good and we’re discreet.
I’m likely only days away from being taken to task on why I haven’t completed this job yet.
” He turns and finally meets my gaze. “And I’m fucking glad. Really fucking glad.”
Rubbing my forehead, I lean back on the sofa, trying to sort this confusing storm of feelings in my head.
I believe him, which is super fucked up, but what other choice do I have?
How else would I help my brother? I’ll get Wraith’s help, then we’ll go our separate ways and never see each other again. That’s the only sane route to take.
“What can you do for Boone?”
“We’ll wait until he calls with the new phone and then maybe we’ll go see him. If you’re with me, he’ll know he’s safe.”
“And is he? You wouldn’t…” I can’t even finish the sentence. I know the answer, but I need to hear it again.
“I wouldn’t do that. I’m a lot of things, Bouche, but I’m not someone who would betray you like that.” He leans forward, resting his arms on his knees. “What I want to do is get more information and details from Boone, take them to Shadow, and plead the case.”
“Plead the case?”
“Ask him to cancel the hit. He’ll know what to do after that.”
“And what if he doesn’t agree? Then what? You’ve exposed yourself and my brother.”
“Shadow’s not a hothead. He’s very reasonable and he’ll listen.”
Wraith looks pale suddenly, which makes me aware that he’s very nervous about this. He’s putting himself on the line with his boss to help my brother. That’s pretty fucking major.
“Okay. I don’t think I have a choice.” I sigh.
“Sure you do. I could leave right now and you’ll never see me again. You and Boone can figure out what to do next, and I won’t interfere.”
“But?”
“I can’t promise he’ll be safe.”
“And you can now?”
“You have a way better shot with me than without me.”
I look up, finally allowing myself to dive into his sensual gaze again.
“I care about this, Bouche,” Wraith continues. “I’m not a heartless machine, and I… Fuck.” He swallows hard. “I like you.”
“You don’t know me.”
“Yeah, I do. Why do you think I keep coming back for more? It’s not my normal MO, believe me.”
“Not mine either,” I mumble. “Figures though. I would meet the one guy I could never have more with.”
His expression turns sad for a second, but he blinks it away. “Yeah.”
My phone rings and I pull it from my back pocket. It’s an unknown number which makes me pause, but I answer it anyway. “Hello?”
“I got a new phone,” Boone says. “No one’s following me. It’s quiet out here and easy to tell.”
I relax as soon as I hear his voice. “Where are you specifically?”
“Naterville. Right off the exit. There’s a piece-of-shit motel you can’t miss.”
“Naterville,” I repeat while Wraith opens his phone and types something on the screen. “I’m coming.”
“No, Pax, it’s not safe for you.”
“I’m bringing backup. My, uh, my friend has an idea, but we need more information.”
“You trust him?”
My stomach twists. There’s no way I can tell Boone how I know Wraith, but I have to trust the guy. He’s all I’ve got right now.
“Yes. For this.”
“Okay. I’m in room 302.”
“We’ll be there in twenty-five minutes,” Wraith says.
“Twenty-five minutes,” I tell Boone. “Make sure you check before you open the door to anyone. Just in case.”
“Yeah, I know. See you soon.”
“Call if anything comes up before I get there.”
“I will.”
After ending the call, I get to my feet. “We can’t tell him about you.”
Wraith frowns. “I’m not sure how that’s gonna work.”
“Fuck.”
Wraith approaches me slowly, carefully raising his hand and placing it on my arm. I want to push him away, but I don’t.
“I know what I’m doing, okay? I get how fucked up this is, but I’m gonna help fix it.”
I nod, turning to grab my keys and my wallet. “We should go.”
When we’re back in the car and heading in the direction of Naterville, I keep one eye on Wraith as he taps out messages in his texting app. After a few minutes, his phone rings and he scrunches his nose.
“Hey, Carn, what’s up?” he says. He nods, glancing at me before turning away slightly to face the window. “Yeah, I’m working. Nah, I’m good. You guys okay?”
I can hear a muffled masculine voice on the phone, and when he laughs, Wraith chuckles too.
“Good for you,” Wraith says. “Enjoy. I’ll probably be out late.” He pauses, grinning as his gaze shifts briefly to me. “Maybe. Don’t worry about it.” He chuckles again, shaking his head. “Good night, Carnage.”
When he ends the call, I watch him slide his phone into his pocket, noticing the glint of the metal in his holster. He carries a gun around like it’s no big deal.
“One of my brothers,” Wraith says in explanation. “He’s hitting a club looking for a hookup and invited me along.”
“So you’re missing out?”
“I was never missing out, Bouche.” He puts his hand on my thigh again, but I flinch and move away slightly. He sighs but removes his hand. “You wanted to beat my ass earlier, didn’t you?”
“Yep. Thought about it before I knew you had a gun.”
“But?”
“I’m only violent on the ice.”
“Fair.”
“Hey, how’d you get a gun past security at the arena?”
“I have my methods.”
Cryptic. Maybe it’s better if I don’t know.
We make it to the correct exit and I take it, looking left and right for the shitty motel.
Wraith points ahead to the left. “That has to be it. There’s a gas station and a small store across the street.”
“Yeah, that looks like it.”
I navigate to the parking lot, choosing a spot next to a newer sedan with rental stickers on the bumper. This is it. I have to put all my faith in a man who’s confessed to being a killer and trust him with my brother’s life. Please don’t let me be wrong about this.
Wraith walks beside me, up the crumbling concrete steps to the third level. The air smells like stale beer and weed, with a hint of piss and maybe even mold. Boone deserves better than this.
I stop in front of room 302 and knock. Rustling behind the door makes me feel better that he’s checking before he opens it. When he does, his face lights up, but only for a second before he sees Wraith.
“Oh, fuck no,” he says, cocking his fist before I can intervene. “You’re one of them.” In a flash, his fist lands across Wraith’s right cheek, sending him stumbling backward into the railing.
Wraith holds his hands up, apparently taking the punch in stride. “I’m not. I can explain though. Can we come in?”
Boone’s eyes shift to me and I nod solemnly. “Please, Boone. We can trust him.”
I look at Wraith, my eyes begging him to prove me right. He nods, his lips tilted up in a soft smile.
“I’m only here to help,” Wraith says. “Please.”
Boone steps back to let us enter, and as I close the door behind us, I exhale slowly, hoping that by morning, somehow this situation will be fixed.
And I have to trust the guy hired to kill my brother for that to happen. Do I have excellent taste in men or what?