Page 10 of A Past Too Broken

He smirks at the sight of me pointing a gun at him, like his life isn’t in danger.

“You can’t have this one,” he says just loud enough to be heard over the traffic fifteen stories below and the air conditioning off to the side of us.

“What?” My eyebrows furrow as I stare him down. “This is a job, like any other.”

He stands and crosses the short distance between us. “It is not a job,” he spits. “I don’t know what game you think you’re playing, but this is not one you want to pursue with me.”

Keeping the gun trained on him, I hold my ground. “Don’t take another step. I won’t hesitate to shoot you.”

His lips twist in a parody of a smile. “I dare you to try.”

Pressing my finger against the trigger, I glare at him. “Are you so ready to die, Min? Should I have finished you off when I had you in front of me six months ago?”

This time, his smile is more natural, bordering on friendly. “Why didn’t you?”

Question of the century right there. One I still don’t have an answer for half a year later. I should have taken the little shit out when I had the chance, but I can’t deny that I was intrigued.

As he stared at me with his dark eyes surrounded by long, equally dark eyelashes, something deep inside saidNo. I’ll admit he’s cute, in a slightly fucked-up homicidal way, but it wasn’t just his looks, but his lack of fear, that attracted me.

He didn’t beg for his life. He didn’t cry or show anything but annoyance at his predicament. Even when he tried to escape his bonds, his frustration levels had never risen above something he couldn’t manage. His control over his emotions, how he dealt with a life and death situation… It made me want to see more.

So, I let him live. I still don’t know if I regret it or not.

“What’s it going to be, Zay?” he asks, taking another step forward. “Are you going to deny me this kill?”

I sneer. “You stole plenty of mine in the last six months. Why shouldn’t I return the favor?”

His eyes are as dark as onyx, even in the late morning sun. His dark hair has a blue sheen to it, and I ache to run my fingers through the strands. It’s hard to focus when everything about him piques my curiosity.

“Because this one is personal,” he says so softly I almost don’t hear him.

The next second I’m forced to drop my gun as the burning pain of a knife embedding itself in my shoulder sears through me.

“Fucking hell!” I shout, grabbing for the knife. Min is faster, crossing the space between us and shoving me with a surprising amount of strength for someone nearly half a foot shorter than me.

He pushes me up against the AC unit and rips the knife out of my shoulder, making me swear again.

“Don’t fuck with me, Zay,” he hisses. “I enjoy our little cat and mouse games, but you’re skating too close to the line with this. Back. The. Fuck. Off.”

The knife ends up back in my shoulder and I reach for my own hidden blade, bringing it between us.

Min doesn’t look worried about the knife digging into his shirt. He holds me against the AC unit and stares into my eyes.

My breath hitches at our close proximity, the tension between us palpable. For a moment, time stands still as Min leans in and presses his lips against mine. I’m surprised at how soft his lips are, with how hard he’s pressing his mouth to mine. It’s not a kiss, not really, but the feel of him opens up a floodgate of desire in me. When I gasp, he takes a hasty step back, dark eyes wide.

“I won’t be so nice next time,” he says in a rough voice before disappearing around the other end of the unit.

When the door to the roof slams closed, I close my eyes and thud my head against the unit, wondering what in the hell just happened—and why I liked it so much.

Six Months After Stabbing

It’s time. After years of planning, of even longer wishing for it to happen, it’s finally time for the final name on my list.

The winter air is biting cold, and the sound of my boots crunching through the snow is loud in my ears. Anticipation thrums through me, and warmth spreads through my limbs from my core at the thought of how close I am to all of this finally being finished.

I have to take a few deep breaths when my excitement threatens to take over. If I’m not in complete control, it could lead to costly mistakes.

My heart flutters as the anticipation curls through me. It takes all of my concentration to breathe normally, but it’s nothing to pick the lock and swing open the door leading off the laundry room into the side yard.

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