Page 17 of Stalk

“Has this happened to you before?” he finally asks, looking back at me.

I laugh under my breath. “No. Why? Is this a normal thing where you’re from?”

He glares. “It’s a first for me.”

Well, at least he’s just as spooked by this as I am. “So. What… what do we do?”

This time, the handsome stranger looks at me like I’m an idiot, and it actually gets my blood boiling. “We do what we came here to do.”

My pulse quickens. Suddenly, my clothes feel suffocating, and the air in the small kitchen feels thick. “Shouldn’t we… consult with our bosses first?”

He blinks. “No. We were given assignments. Therefore, we should follow through. At least, that’s how it works in my country.”

What a cockyasshole.If he wasn’t so pretty to look at, I might actually get pleasure from sucker punching him in his stupid, perfect face.

When I don’t say anything, he cracks his neck. “I’ll do it,” he says simply.

Now, I’mreallymad. Because one, who the fuck does he think he is? Who put him in charge? And two, I hate how he can already tell I’d rather do anything else than kill Helena. Maybe I’m thinking too hard about it, but from the way he looks at me, I can’t help but think he sees me as weak. And I am weak. I’m not cut out for this shit. But how dare he ruin my evening, fuck up my plan, and then take charge when I don’t even know where he’s from or why he’s here?

As soon as he turns to walk out of the kitchen, I realize that he more than likely doesn’t know that Helena is in withdrawal. I mean, he might, but he seems more like the come in, stab a few times, get out kind of killer. Like most of them.

“Wait!” I whisper scream, darting forward and gripping him by his annoyingly rock hard bicep.

His face snaps to the side to meet my gaze. “What now?” Annoyance is written all over his face, and I couldn’t care less.

“She’s withdrawing.”

“So?”

“So—I don’t know what you had planned, but?—”

He looks at me with a cold, blank expression on his face. “I’m going to suffocate her with one of those couch pillows. Can I go now?”

He moves again, so I tighten my hold on his arm. “Christ, will you justwaita minute?”

“We’ve wasted enough time. I need to take her out so we can leave.”

I blink at him. Never once have I ever considered any of my assignments in such a detached way. Hearing him talk about murdering Helena in such a professional manner almost makes me recoil, but I stand my ground.

“I have to tell my boss I was the one to do it,” I blurt out without thinking.

Confusion washes over his features. “I am no liar. You do it, then.”

“No!”

Now, he’s really agitated. His head droops down as he pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and pointer finger. “So what you are telling me is you want me to execute the target, but you are going to tell your boss otherwise.”

“Uh… yeah.”

He shakes his head then straightens up. “Whatever gets us out of here the quickest.”

“Take the needle. You have it, right?” I ask quietly. “It’s a lethal dose of meth. Just in case the, uh, pillow doesn’t work.”

He sighs. “It’s in my pocket. Now, let me go. I have work to do.”

He rips his arm away from me then walks away, leaving me alone in the kitchen. I wait a few seconds, and then tiptoe behind him into the entryway beside the front door. From there, I watch.

I watch as he places calculated steps onto the brown carpet, moving slowly, like a predator stalking its prey. Helena remains in the same position she was in when I got here, laying with her back against the couch cushions.

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