Page 31 of Stalk

“Who’s she?”

I exhale roughly. “My boss.”

Mattia stares at me then downs the last two sips of wine from his glass. “Why the hell would she want to do that?”

I let out a humorless laugh from the depths of my chest that is all spite. “Why?Why?You saw me the other night. How I was after you… completed the assignment. How much of a fight did I give you when you caught me in her doorway? Hmm?”

Mattia pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. “I figured you were having an off night.”

“Every night is an off night for me.”

He signals the bartender to get him another glass, then turns back to me. “Then why do you do it, Ren?”

I finish off my own glass. “I can’t tell you.”

“Why?” he presses.

The bartender comes back to us and gets us fresh glasses. I wait until we’re alone as we can be in a crowded bar to respond. “I can’t tell you that.”

“Perché?”I’m not sure what that means, but I would guess it meanswhy.Only now he’s frustrated, nostrils flaring and eyes narrowed on me, so he’s too fed up to use English.

“Because I don’t trust you for shit!” I whisper-scream.

His beautiful mouth that loves to infuriate me hangs open. “I—I do not understand.” His accent is thick, and I can’t tell if it’s because he’s annoyed or if it’s because he’s now on his third glass of wine. “What does that mean?For shit?”

I almost laugh at the language barrier, but then I remember I’m not in a good mood. “It means I don’t trust you. At all.”

He nods. “Why should you? You have no reason to. Yet, you asked me here. Yet, you confide in me. If you want my help, Ren, then you have to tell me more.”

I take three more gulps of the wine that's starting to grow on me, then all but slam the glass down on the bar. “I didn’t choose this life, Mattia, okay? I doubt you can say the same.”

CHAPTER 13

Mattia

Ididn’t choose this life.

I don’t understand Ren’s words. He is obviously a mess. I knew that from the moment I found him in Helena’s apartment. Dark circles under his piercing green eyes. Always fidgeting—bouncing his knee or picking at his fingernails or running an unsteady hand through his dark hair.

I know there’s more to Ren; there’s something hidden behind the mask he thinks he wears so well. The thing is, I study people for a living. Before I take their lives, anyway. Mannerisms and body language are as easy for me to understand as my native tongue. So, there’s no doubt in my mind that Ren is struggling. Unhappy. Miserable, even. He keeps a lot locked inside. I don’t fail to notice how much it’s tearing him apart.

But I cannot deny the beauty in him, even in the state he is in. I push away the thoughts of when I woke from my wet dream, but it’s no use. Despite his dark circles, the way he fidgets, how unsure of himself he is—I can admit that he is beautiful—with his slim frame, flawless skin, and piercing eyes. I shift in my seat, crossing and uncrossing my legs, then drink more wine, hoping that consuming more alcohol will bring me back to my senses somehow.

Never in my life has a person of the same sex had me so confused.

“What do you mean?” I finally ask, avoiding his gaze and instead staring into the liquid in my glass. Perhaps like me, Ren is also in the killing business through his family ties. That’s the only thing I can think of if he didn’t choose this life.

I hold my breath and wait. I know he will take his time in answering me, and that’s okay. I can be patient when I want to be. Even though it’s utterly annoying. What’s more annoying is how unsure of himself he is. Like speaking a simple sentence out loud is life and death. We may not know each other very well, but that’s what bothers me the most about Ren. So far, anyway. I’m sure I’ll discover more by the end of tonight. At this point, I hope he gives me more reasons to dislike him.

“My mother chose this life,” Ren says so softly, I have to lean in to hear him. “But she died a couple weeks after I turned eighteen.” I don’t say anything, because I can tell there’s more to this story. “I didn’t know what she did. I grew up in her house my entire childhood believing that she was a nurse who worked the night shift. She put on scrubs and everything. Why wouldn’t I believe her? So, imagine my shock when I’m taken from my bed in the middle of the night three years later, only to find out that my mother didn’t fulfill her contract for her company. Because of that, her closest family relative had to take her place.” I swallow roughly, my throat suddenly feeling sore with emotion.Fuck.I don’t usually… feel bad for others. Not unless they’re part of my family unit. “Is it the same in your company?” Ren whispers.

Slowly, I shake my head. “We are employed for life for obvious reasons, but if someoneleaves the jobprematurely, we do not recruit within their family.”Because they are all part of our family already,I think to myself.

Ren lets out a humorless laugh. “If only she’d been a part of your company.”

Ren’s hands are clasped together tightly in his lap, making his knuckles pale. It hardly looks like he’s breathing. His eyes are focused on the bar table, distant. Like he’s reliving the horrible night he was taken. More than likely, that’s exactly what he’s doing.

“How long?” I ask.

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