Chapter Two #2
“No,” I ball my fist, pressing my knuckle to my forehead. “It’s over. It’s over. I’m done with this. Drop it, Rowan.” I toss the photos down and pace. “Work. I need to work.”
I decided a few days ago to drop this. My sanity slipped for a moment, but it’s done. Addison is back in New York, and when she returns to Columbus, I’ll take a few jobs out of state to get her out of my system. Thalia and Atlas should be able to run the office for a couple of weeks while I work.
With Loxley being around, my brother has calmed down tremendously. He’s still a psychopath, but he's nothing compared to Thalia.
The Calaway hit, my sister’s current obsession, has the need for a cigarette arising. She can't just snap a man’s neck like the rest of us. No, she has to play this ridiculous cat-and-mouse game until several end up traumatized and there's far more bodies than there should be.
This is a job.
Not a fucking playground.
I never found joy in this, but it was what I was born and bred to do. We all were, but that doesn't mean there wasn’t a time I dreamed of getting out. I yearned to be the first person to make it out on the other side and leave this life behind.
But we don't all get what we wish for.
Reality is a hard pill to swallow. It took me years to force it down, and now this is all routine. Kill until I’m satisfied with my earnings, set the majority of it aside, and then return to finish paperwork.
I don't think I’ve slept properly since I was an infant. I’m thirty, and feel like I'm pushing eighty with all the stress.
My hand tightens at my side just thinking about it.
Without argument, I pick up my favorite photo.
Addison is seated on a park bench, her head resting back against her shoulders as she lets the rays of afternoon light soak into her skin.
She’s wearing a light green sundress that shows off her legs and a fair amount of her chest, but that isn't what catches my eye. It’s the small smile on her face, as if everything in the world is great and she's just basking in the riches for a moment.
She looks so…perfect.
And maybe I feel a small bit of jealousy, but it isn't because I want what she has so desperately. It’s because the sun got to touch every inch of her while I'm stuck here, staring at a fucking photo.
I let my fingers dance over her face, tracing the lines I've committed to memory, the freckles I can recount if I close my eyes, and the hours I’ve counted since I last saw her in person.
Twenty-eight hours.
And thirty-two minutes.
There’s a knock on my office door, and my heart plummets as I quickly try to shove the photos under a stack of papers. A stack of receipts falls to the floor, and my lips pull back over my teeth as I pile more folders and expense reports on top of the photos.
“Knock, knock!” Alana sings as the door flies open. At her back stands Connor, that stupid lopsided grin he always wears plastered over his features.
I brace my hands on my desk, calming my rapidly beating heart. “When I said you both needed to learn to knock, I meant wait until I say ‘Come in’ to open the door.”
Connor scoffs, walking over to my shelf of encyclopedias. He brushes his thumb over the spine, frowning at the dust that collects on his finger. “What were you doing? Jacking off?”
Shit. I forgot my monthly cleaning. They’re bound to notice that.
“Oh, she’s pretty!” Alana exclaims as she stands on the opposite side of my desk.
My head whips down, and I realize one of the photos is still fully visible. Without a word, I cram it under my computer with too much force, nearly knocking the monitor to the floor. My odd behavior doesn't go unnoticed as the couple shares a look.
“What are you here for, again?” I ask, clearing my throat.
Alana lifts a brow. “I’m here for my assignment. You said I needed to erase some records.”
I forgot I called them earlier.
Where is my head right now?
Addison.
And it shouldn't be.
“Right,” I mutter, shuffling through the disorganized mess I created while trying to hide my biggest secret. I'm usually methodical, so this appearance is definitely suspicious for me.
Connor props his hip against my desk while Alana takes the chair across from me. She pats her knee, then sits forward and places her elbows on the flat top. “Okay, spill! Who’s the brunette?”
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
My jaw grinds. “No one.”
As I move a stack, more photos slip out, and I cram them under the monitor, too.
“Doesn’t seem like no one.” Connor smirks.
I rip the folder off my desk and shove it at his chest. “Assignement. I need this back ASAP.”
“Why? Got a hot date?” Alana turns her head, the corners of her lips lifting.
“I sign your paycheck,” I retort pointedly.
The couple glances at each other before they burst into laughter.
“Whew! You must be serious about this woman. I don't think I’ve ever seen you so worked up about anyone.” Connor wipes a tear.
“Did you see how defensive he was?” The intel expert nudges her boyfriend before mocking me. “I sign your paycheck.” She deepens her voice and leans side to side in a teasing manner before they both crack up again.
I deadpan. “Just get back to me when it’s finished.”
“Right, right,” Connor waves a hand. “You need all the extra time to—”
“Out.” I grit.
He pushes off my desk and takes his girlfriend’s hand. “Alright. We’ll see you around, Boss.”
Before the door can close, Alana shoots a smirk over her shoulder. “Can we get some details later?”
I sigh, hanging my head slightly. They're good friends, and they're only curious about what's going on with me. I’ve been far too aloof with everyone lately. “Sure.”
She smiles. “Take your time. When you're ready, we’re here. Try to get some more sun or something, Row. You stay inside too much.”
If that isn't the truth. I've been cooped up in this office for the past month, only going out for work. And Addison, of course.
“I’ll get out more,” I agree.
“Oh! We’re going to Dale’s later. Want to come?” She asks hopefully.
“Yeah, man,” Connor adds. “The twins will be there. They have some information about Theo.”
My brows lift. “Theodore? Dom’s Theo?”
Alana snorts. “He’s the only Theo we know. Is he still giving Dominic the cold shoulder?”
Theodore Reese, another assassin who grew up with us, has been traveling for the last year.
Since he and his childhood friend, Dominic, had a falling-out over a woman, they haven't spoken.
Theo chose to keep himself busy while Dom took over higher duties within the syndicate.
As far as I know, the estranged assassin is off in Connecticut.
At least that's where I wired his last paycheck to.
“As far as I know,” I shuffle some papers, cleaning up my space.
Connor rolls his eyes. “They need to just fucking kiss and make up. Things aren't the same without Theo.”
“He’ll come around when he’s ready,” Alana pats her boyfriend’s back before her eyes shift to me. “Coming with us?”
I stop what I'm doing, my gaze trailing to the photos messily crammed under my monitor.
“She’ll still be here when you get back,” Connor smarts.
“Fuck you,” I growl before grabbing my wallet and shoving it into my back pocket.
Space.
I need space. Going out and sitting with others should help me separate from this alternate reality I've created.
No matter how hard it is to just leave her the fuck alone. I force myself out the door, resisting the urge to tuck one of the photos safely into my pocket.
This is for the best.