Page 9 of A Past Too Broken

Getting plans for the house had been a bit difficult, but in the end, I’d managed, so it’s an easy trek from the kitchen to the mark’s office.

Despite the fact she’s on “vacation,” I’ve observed her spend more time in the office space here than sitting on the beach chairs right outside her kitchen door.

The hallway isn’t that long, as this part of the house only holds a guest room, the office, and the main bedroom at the very end, but I still take my time going down it. I’m not nearly as good as stealth as I pretend to be. Every once in a while, I can hear the heels of my boots hitting the tiled floor, but my slow pace means it’s barely audible.

Pausing just outside the open office door, I listen for a moment to the sound of rapid keystrokes. I almost feel bad for her—not enough to not do my job, but anyone who comes to the beach just to lock themselves in their office lives a sad life.

Oh well, good thing it’s about to be over soon.

There’s a lull in the typing sounds coming from the office, so I take my chance, stepping into the doorway just as the window behind her breaks and a bullet hits the back of her skull.

I watch wide-eyed as she falls forward onto her keyboard. Not much surprises me anymore, but I didnotsee that coming.

Backing out into the hall, I try to calm my racing heart. My phone vibrates in my pocket and I fumble to pull it out. Staring at the screen, I watch as it rings, the display showing an unknown number.

Too stunned to think properly, I answer as I stand in the dark hall. Before I can even say hello, a voice I’ve only heard once before but will be hard pressed to forget comes over the line.

“How’s it feel, Min?”he asks.

Gripping the phone tightly, I say his name between clenched teeth. “Zay. How’d you get this number?”

He chuckles.“As if I’d tell you that.”

“Did you call to gloat?”

“No,”he says and, for some insane reason, I believe him.“I just wanted to let you know that it’s your turn.”

He hangs up. I bring the phone down from my ear, only to stare at it, as if that’ll give me the answers I want.

My turn? I smile as I put my phone away and finally make it out of the mark’s house. If Zay thinks this little show of his will put me off, well, he hasn’t been paying attention.

He wants to play? Fine. He hasn’t seen anything yet.

Six Months After Kidnapping

Reggie meows at me when he sees me heading for the gun safe in my closet. “I know, baby. I’m sorry. I was looking forward toBridgerton, too. But Uncle Cash doesn’t do favors often, so I can’t put this off.”

In response to that, I get a fluffy red backside as Reggie wanders off to some other part of the apartment. I don’t blame him. Our routines are important to us both. It helps having some sense of normalcy paired with the… odd job I have.

Most people might see watching TV with my cat as weird, but when all your other acquaintances are also morally gray and not the type of people you can just hang out with, it’s not so strange. With Reggie, I can be myself, and in this life of mine that’s important. So many times I’ve had to play a part to get myself where I needed to be so I could complete a job or get myself out of a sticky situation.

Letting Reggie see the human behind the assassin is needed, and I dare anyone try to tell me otherwise.

When I get my baby out of the safe, I check her over, making sure everything is as it should be before packing her away in the carrying case. I also grab a handgun and a few knives—not my weapons of choice, but if the last six months have taught me anything, it’s that it’s better to be safe than sorry.

* * *

Normally,I like a few days to scope out potential vantage points, but Cash gave me a very limited timeframe for this one, so my one day of surveillance will have to be enough. It’s a good thing I trust Cash—at least, as much as people in this life can trust one another. That this is a favor and not information I paid for goes a long way to helping me ease into the job at hand, lack or preparation or not.

Cash is good at his job and well worth the prices he sets for information, but when there’s a transaction, you know you’re on your own once the money changes hands. With a favor though… It’s in everyone’s best interest to make sure things go smoothly, because if not, how could he cash in on the favorInow owehim.

So, with a sigh, I shift my gun case higher on my shoulder and enter the building. No one pays me any mind, too absorbed in their own shit.

The keycard Cash left for me takes me to the rooftop, and thankfully it’s empty this time of day. The intel I got said it should stay this way until after lunch, which isn’t as much time as I would prefer, but it’s still enough to complete this job.

I go around the large air conditioning unit in the middle of the roof and stop dead in my tracks. There, sitting cross-legged on the ground in the exact place I need to set up for this job, is Min.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I snarl, letting go of my hold of the gun case’s strap and pulling my handgun out.

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