Page 15 of Dark Reasons

"The only hit man you have to think about is me," he whispers.

"Jamison," Iris says, "this is all twisted up. Clients aren't supposed to see you... like, ever."

"I know." His eyes narrow on me. "She knows, too."

"Okay but does sheknow know?"Iris drags the words out. She keeps watching me with a level of concern that makes my heart race differently than it was for Jamison.

"Don't worry," I say. "I'm not afraid."

"Uh, you should be," she laughs nervously. "Jamison murders people for a living. The only person more psycho than him is his partner." Her brow knots together. "Was he okay with this?"

"Is that who you were talking to in there?" I ask.

"We're getting off track," Jamison grunts. He holds out one of his hands; a piece of paper, no bigger than a note card, lies flat on his palm. On top of it is a black pen. "This is the contract to hire me to put a hit out. The cost is twenty grand."

My throat grows dry, it makes my giggle sound dusty and fractured. "You're kidding."

"If you don't have the money, then there's another option," he says softly. From the corner of my eye I see Iris squirming. I try not to look at her, I fight to keep my attention solely on Jamison. His angular features... his polished mahogany eyes... are all I see.

His other arm folds out from behind his back. The gun—my gun—looks dull under the ceiling lights, like a car left to rust in an abandoned lot. Something ancient and unloved. Something you never want to look at again.

"Selena," he says thickly. He makes sure I'm listening. Of course I am. I can't stop now. "The contract, or a bullet."

"You'd shoot me." My voice is hollow.

"You'd shoot yourself," he explains patiently. "Suicide."

"I'd never," I snarl. The very idea fills me with enough anger that I stand from the couch; Jamison doesn't budge, but he squints, like I'm fascinating. "Killing myself is something I'll never do. Ever."

"If I have to pull the trigger, I will." Has he always sounded this brutal? Did I delude myself in the short time I've known him into thinking he was human? What a foolish thing to do.

Making fists, I shake my head side to side. "You'd make itlooklike a suicide, then the cops won't come after you."

"Jamison," Iris says weakly.

He sends her a side-eye and she wilts. "What will it be, Selena?"

"You're not giving me much choice."

"More than I've ever given anyone in your position."

"That's not comforting."

His fingers close around the hilt of the gun. I remember how easily he took it from me in the hotel. I still can't believe that he appeared there, interrupting my revenge, putting me into this situation. Jamison entered my life like a malignant cancer, and as such, I'll be killed by him sooner or later.

Might as well make it on my terms.

"I can't sign your contract," I say.

Jamison's eyes widen; he clutches the paper, creating creases in its perfect surface. "What?"

"It saysyou'llbe doing the hit. That's not what I want. I have to be the one who kills him. I think I deserve that much, considering what you already took from me."

Iris is back to gawking. I have an idea she's never seen anyone challenge Jamison like this.

The hit man has gone quiet, considering my question... or silently wishing me dead. Probably both. He eyes Iris uneasily; that, I don't understand. "Don't discuss finished contracts," he says under his breath. "You can't be so casual with the work I do."

"But you said Iris knows everything."

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