I try to forget about the question and just drive. I don’t want to fight with Harper. She’s the only f**king reason I’m doing any of this. Fighting with her defeats every objective I have. I just want to get out of this goddamned sun, close the curtains, make everything dark, and—
“I think I know why he didn’t kill Merc.”
“Why?” Harper asks quickly, turning around to see Sasha.
“Because Merc is gonna kill him.”
“That’s f**king it!” I swerve the Hummer over to the almost nonexistent shoulder, and slam on the brakes. “You shut your f**king mouth, kid. Or I swear to f**king God, I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” Harper asks, her eyebrows raised up to the ceiling. “She’s got legitimate questions, James. And to be honest, I’m interested in the answers. Who was the guy who took her? And why was he sending me messages?”
“Harper, use your f**king brain. Why do you think he was sending you messages?”
“Why? If he knew where to find me, then why didn’t he just take me? Why play this game? I’m sure my father has a reward out. Or a hit.”
“Oh, is that where we’re at again? You think I’m here to kill you? Did you know the Smurf is a killer too? Or did you not put that two plus two together yet?”
“Don’t insult me, Tet. I figured that out, thanks.”
“Then maybe you’re her target and not mine? How about that?”
“So why hasn’t she killed me?”
“I haven’t killed you either, but you still think that’s my job. And while we’re all playing let’s-confess-to-shit-we’re-not-doing, what’s your job, Harper? Who the f**k are you and your brother after?”
“Oh, snap!” Sasha says.
“Shut up!” Harp and I yell together.
“She’s playing us, you do realize that, right? I mean, you can see that now, right? She’s egging us on, making us fight.”
“I’m just trying to tell you something,” Sasha squeals. “Something you don’t know but I do. And you know what? Forget it. You don’t deserve my help if you’re gonna treat me like a traitor! I was kidnapped for her!” She shoves Harper on the shoulder and Harp slaps her hand off, turning around like she’s gonna dive back there and start a real fight.
“Sit back, Harper,” I growl as I yank her by the arm and push her against the door. I pull back onto the road before one of these girls decides to get out of the car. I am not in the mood to chase them down in this heat.
“I don’t want to travel with you anymore,” Harper says as she crosses her arms and turns her back to me. “I’m leaving when we get back to civilization.”
“I’m leaving too. I’d rather die than go back to Merc. I’ll find Ford on my own.”
Called that one.
Fuck. Thirty minutes ago I was having warm fuzzies for that little brat and dreaming about Harper’s lips wrapped around my cock. And now this.
I drive in silence as the anger and resentment lingers in the air like a cloud of dust. I roll over all the possibilities in my head, replay the conversation to figure out where it all went wrong. And then make a decision to take one for the team. “OK,” I say.
“OK, what?” Harper asks without looking at me.
“Two years ago,” I start. “Two years ago I had a meeting about my brother.” I check Harper in my peripheral vision, then the rear view. Both girls are listening, I know that much.
“Lots of people wanted him dead and I can’t say I disagreed. He was one f**ked-up individual. I admit, I am one f**ked-up individual. But Tony… Tony was the worst of all of us. He was too young when he started doing jobs. Three years younger than me, and I was only sixteen. I was sent away, learned my trade and completed my contracts in faraway places, filled with faces I never cared about. Entire populations of people who meant nothing to me. It was a movie. A video game. A book. It was not me killing and they were not real people. But Tony did jobs in f**king San Diego on the weekends and went to school on Monday like he was just another kid. He never had the chance to dissociate.”
“Dissociate?” Sasha asks, leaning forward into the front seat. “What’s that mean?”
“They tell me,” I continue, irritated with her, “they being the Company shrinks—that the dissociation from society is normal. Key, really. It’s the only way to kill people for a living and not go off the rails. Of course, we all go off the rails. That’s why there’s only two of us left. And I’m the only one still here.”
“You really killed them all?” Harper asks, appalled.
“I really did.”
“But,” Sasha interrupts, “there’s more than ten assassins, James.”
“Thank you, Sasha. I’m so f**king glad you’re here to school me.” I catch her rolling her eyes in the rear-view. “I know there’s more than ten f**king assassins.”
“Who gave you those jobs?” Harper asks.
I don’t look at her as the words come out. I just stare straight ahead. “Your father.”
“Why?”
“I have no idea. I just do what I’m told.”
“You’re lying,” Harper says. Her anger is almost dripping off her, that’s how hot she is right now. “You’re lying and I’m sick of it. Just tell me what the hell is going on before you get us all killed!”
“Harper, believe me, if I f**king knew, I would. But I don’t know what’s going on.”
“What if more assassins show up?” Sasha asks. “What do we do then?”
“You don’t do anything. You let me handle them.”
“Pow,” Sasha says quietly as she shoots her finger at the windshield, her arm extending between Harper and me. “They’ll be dead with a shot to the head.” She laughs a little and sits back. “He’s probably gonna kill Nick, Harper. Just like you killed your brother, huh, Tet?”
I don’t take her bait. I let it ride. Because if I stop right now, I’ll snap her little Smurf neck and leave her body in the desert.
Chapter Seventeen - Harper
Just like your brother… I replay that sentence in my head over and over. She emphasized your when she said that. But why be so obvious? This kid is confusing me. One second she’s on our side—if we even have a side—and then the next minute she’s not. She’s creating problems for James on purpose, like she’s warning me not to trust him.
“I think I know why he didn’t kill Merc.”
“Why?” Harper asks quickly, turning around to see Sasha.
“Because Merc is gonna kill him.”
“That’s f**king it!” I swerve the Hummer over to the almost nonexistent shoulder, and slam on the brakes. “You shut your f**king mouth, kid. Or I swear to f**king God, I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” Harper asks, her eyebrows raised up to the ceiling. “She’s got legitimate questions, James. And to be honest, I’m interested in the answers. Who was the guy who took her? And why was he sending me messages?”
“Harper, use your f**king brain. Why do you think he was sending you messages?”
“Why? If he knew where to find me, then why didn’t he just take me? Why play this game? I’m sure my father has a reward out. Or a hit.”
“Oh, is that where we’re at again? You think I’m here to kill you? Did you know the Smurf is a killer too? Or did you not put that two plus two together yet?”
“Don’t insult me, Tet. I figured that out, thanks.”
“Then maybe you’re her target and not mine? How about that?”
“So why hasn’t she killed me?”
“I haven’t killed you either, but you still think that’s my job. And while we’re all playing let’s-confess-to-shit-we’re-not-doing, what’s your job, Harper? Who the f**k are you and your brother after?”
“Oh, snap!” Sasha says.
“Shut up!” Harp and I yell together.
“She’s playing us, you do realize that, right? I mean, you can see that now, right? She’s egging us on, making us fight.”
“I’m just trying to tell you something,” Sasha squeals. “Something you don’t know but I do. And you know what? Forget it. You don’t deserve my help if you’re gonna treat me like a traitor! I was kidnapped for her!” She shoves Harper on the shoulder and Harp slaps her hand off, turning around like she’s gonna dive back there and start a real fight.
“Sit back, Harper,” I growl as I yank her by the arm and push her against the door. I pull back onto the road before one of these girls decides to get out of the car. I am not in the mood to chase them down in this heat.
“I don’t want to travel with you anymore,” Harper says as she crosses her arms and turns her back to me. “I’m leaving when we get back to civilization.”
“I’m leaving too. I’d rather die than go back to Merc. I’ll find Ford on my own.”
Called that one.
Fuck. Thirty minutes ago I was having warm fuzzies for that little brat and dreaming about Harper’s lips wrapped around my cock. And now this.
I drive in silence as the anger and resentment lingers in the air like a cloud of dust. I roll over all the possibilities in my head, replay the conversation to figure out where it all went wrong. And then make a decision to take one for the team. “OK,” I say.
“OK, what?” Harper asks without looking at me.
“Two years ago,” I start. “Two years ago I had a meeting about my brother.” I check Harper in my peripheral vision, then the rear view. Both girls are listening, I know that much.
“Lots of people wanted him dead and I can’t say I disagreed. He was one f**ked-up individual. I admit, I am one f**ked-up individual. But Tony… Tony was the worst of all of us. He was too young when he started doing jobs. Three years younger than me, and I was only sixteen. I was sent away, learned my trade and completed my contracts in faraway places, filled with faces I never cared about. Entire populations of people who meant nothing to me. It was a movie. A video game. A book. It was not me killing and they were not real people. But Tony did jobs in f**king San Diego on the weekends and went to school on Monday like he was just another kid. He never had the chance to dissociate.”
“Dissociate?” Sasha asks, leaning forward into the front seat. “What’s that mean?”
“They tell me,” I continue, irritated with her, “they being the Company shrinks—that the dissociation from society is normal. Key, really. It’s the only way to kill people for a living and not go off the rails. Of course, we all go off the rails. That’s why there’s only two of us left. And I’m the only one still here.”
“You really killed them all?” Harper asks, appalled.
“I really did.”
“But,” Sasha interrupts, “there’s more than ten assassins, James.”
“Thank you, Sasha. I’m so f**king glad you’re here to school me.” I catch her rolling her eyes in the rear-view. “I know there’s more than ten f**king assassins.”
“Who gave you those jobs?” Harper asks.
I don’t look at her as the words come out. I just stare straight ahead. “Your father.”
“Why?”
“I have no idea. I just do what I’m told.”
“You’re lying,” Harper says. Her anger is almost dripping off her, that’s how hot she is right now. “You’re lying and I’m sick of it. Just tell me what the hell is going on before you get us all killed!”
“Harper, believe me, if I f**king knew, I would. But I don’t know what’s going on.”
“What if more assassins show up?” Sasha asks. “What do we do then?”
“You don’t do anything. You let me handle them.”
“Pow,” Sasha says quietly as she shoots her finger at the windshield, her arm extending between Harper and me. “They’ll be dead with a shot to the head.” She laughs a little and sits back. “He’s probably gonna kill Nick, Harper. Just like you killed your brother, huh, Tet?”
I don’t take her bait. I let it ride. Because if I stop right now, I’ll snap her little Smurf neck and leave her body in the desert.
Chapter Seventeen - Harper
Just like your brother… I replay that sentence in my head over and over. She emphasized your when she said that. But why be so obvious? This kid is confusing me. One second she’s on our side—if we even have a side—and then the next minute she’s not. She’s creating problems for James on purpose, like she’s warning me not to trust him.
