Page 36 of The Assassin
Ardan laughed. He knew that well too. Jamie was good at his job, but he was a big ol’ flirt who wanted a piece of everything. He could never settle down enough to be content.
“Is he good for you?” Ardan asked, suddenly curious. Rourke and he were built the same way, killers without a conscious. While Ardan took a cleaner approach, he’d seen Rourke slaughter people for the thrill of it. But that was a past Rourke. He’d asked Sloan for a more tranquil job, one where the monster didn’t have to show its face. Ardan never understood Rourke’s fear of himself, but he respected the decision for a quieter path in life.
“The best. Just don’t tell him that. He’ll get a big head.” Rourke grinned. Like most Killough Company employees, he wore a suit—a black three-piece with a royal blue tie—but Ardan knew beneath his collar hung a silver necklace with a cross on it. He was a Catholic man like Gabriel. Rourke had met the Italian on one mission Ardan dragged him into, and they’d connected over their love for their God.
The thought of Gabriel made his belly knot in anxiety, a feeling he was not used to and definitely not comfortable with.
“Let me ask you a question, Rourke.”
Rourke cocked his head. “Sure.”
“Gabriel Mancini. What did you think about him when you met him? An honorable man?”
Rourke pursed his mouth in thought and nodded after a few long seconds. “Yeah, I think so. He has values, that was for certain. I always thought he was loyal until you told me he betrayed Leo. I never expected him to do something like that.”
“If that betrayal happened for a justifiable reason, would you think he’d make a good member of our team?” Ardan asked, not sure if he wanted to know the answer. He shouldn’t be asking these questions in the first place. Gabriel didn’t belong with the Killough Company. For one, he wasn’t Irish, and the most he could possibly be was an acquaintance. It didn’t matter that Gabriel was amazing in bed, that didn’t constitute him as someone they could trust to be on their side.
Rourke squinted at him. “Why do you ask?”
“It’s merely a question.”
“You don’t ask questions unless there’s a reason behind it.” Rourke crossed his arms, grinning. “You don’t plan on killing him.”
“He wasn’t the one behind the murder of the customs agents,” Ardan said, keeping his voice neutral.
“And Folliero?”
“He betrayed him.”
“But for a justifiable reason,” Rourke finished. “Rules are rules, Ardan. He signed a contract to do his utmost best to protect Leo at all costs. Instead, he feeds enemies information about Leo’s location. There’s no justifiable reason for that.”
“Do you remember that task Sloan sent us on, the one where we had to kill Kovacs?” Ardan asked, watching Rourke’s face transform into a grimace. “We had no direct orders to take out Kovacs’ wife. She wasn’t part of the drug trafficking ring, but you took her out because you saw what she was doing to those young women. You made a decision based on morals.”
“I did.” Rourke sighed and glanced behind him. Mr. Hopper stood beside the door, but when he was on the job, he became part of the furniture. Everything the butler heard was a secret kept safe with him, unless it involved a plan that would harm Sloan or his pet. “Are you telling me Mancini acted on his morals?”
“Yes.”
“Then to answer your previous question, yes, he would be a good team member to have. But he seems like the type who prefers to work alone.”
“Maybe, maybe not.”
Rourke frowned at him when Ardan patted him on the shoulder.
“Thanks. Can you tell Sloan I’m taking that time off that he offered me. I’ll be back in a few days. Maybe longer.”
“Ardan….”
Ardan stalked out the door, ignoring Rourke’s confusion behind him. Ardan hadn’t taken a day off since he’d started, but Sloan had told him to anyway. Hopefully it wouldn’t take long.
Chapter Eight
It’d been three weeks since Gabriel fucked Ardan, three weeks since he’d been on the run from the sexy assassin, and it didn’t feel quite right. Gabriel got off on the thrill of the chase, and a part of him was fucking mad at Kirby for giving up the game. He enjoyed having Ardan dance with him, just out of reach, and now he was back to having nothing, floating around aimlessly, searching for jobs.
He took a hit down in Louisiana, and another in Florida for a drug cartel, but now he was back to where he was before he found out Ardan was chasing him. Back in Texas, staring at his family from a distance. Wondering. Wishing. All the kinds of emotions that were useless. The type he’d left behind with the dead ashes of his former life. He wasn’t Riccardo Sanna anymore. Riccardo died over in Serbia with his CIA partner after a failed bomb drop.
While he was dead, his family was right there at the park Gabriel was watching, gathered in a large crowd around a picnic Mama Sanna had put together like she did every second Saturday. It was food galore, with the finest Italian cuisine anyone could ask for.
Gabriel smiled when he saw his mama kiss Mia on the forehead, muttering something, probably in Italian. When it came to family picnics, she never spoke English unless they had guests who couldn’t speak the language.
