Page 74 of King's Barber
“But you’re an assassin and you’re a free contractor, right?”
“Yes, but I wasn’t always. I started as an assassin. After I killed my mother’s murderers, I was hired by a mobster in Detroit. He was a good man. Well, that’s a lie.” He laughed and the sound warmed my stomach. “He wasn’t a good person. He killed for drugs and money. But he was a good boss. A Serbian. But when he died—natural causes, by the way—his son took over. I never really liked him that much because he was a homophobic asshole and he didn’t like me, so we parted on good terms. He ended my contract, and I went back to the Society. I didn’t want to change my status with them, so I stayed as an assassin and became a freelancer.”
I frowned. “I don’t get how that organization works. They hire you out?”
He shook his head. “Yes and no, they’re like… a middleman. All the clients go through them in hiring us, and they choose the best person for the job. A percentage of our payments go to them.”
It made sense. The Kings were middlemen in a lot of ways, especially when it came to Killough and distributing drugs in the New Gothenburg area. “And this Dean guy?”
“He… broke two rules. He thought he was smarter than the Society, and that’s what really got him killed.” He tightened his grip on my hand. “He was an idiot, and I warned him to stop playing God. But he wouldn’t listen. The Society doesn’t suffer fools.”
I cringed. “What were the rules?”
“He stole money from them. Usually the Society sets up the bank accounts the money goes into and they take their share, but he changed the account numbers with the client and then transferred whatever moneyhewanted to the Society. Didn’t give them what they were owed.”
“Fuck.” I shook my head. “It’s never wise to steal money from dangerous people.”
He snorted. “I didn’t know, or I would have told him what a dolt he was.”
“And the second?” I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know. If King kept it hidden from us, it was for good reason.
The silence dragged out as he stared at our entwined fingers, and I didn’t think he’d answer at first, until he finally did. “It’s easy to say we’re not good people. We kill human beings for a living. Our job is dangerous, and so… we need to protect our children. All children. They’re innocent in this world, and we might be murderers, but we have standards. Killing anyone under eighteen is against the rules.”
I blinked, surprised. “Really? I thought they would be free game.” I held up my hands when he gave me a look of disgust. “I mean, fuck, I wouldn’t kill kids. But you’re contract killers, right? Kids are just part of the job.”
His expression changed to incredulous. “No. Definitely not. They’d have very few hitmen and assassins if their children, any children, were targets. Well, less than they have now. But Dean took things into his own hands. He butted heads with another hitman, so he decided to take care of it. He killed his daughter. She was fourteen.”
“Jesus fuck.”
Quain nodded. “I didn’t know until they gave me the orders to kill him. I had no choice. He broke the rules. He was an idiot. I would have killed him anyway if I’d known he’d murdered a child.”
“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not in the Society, then, huh?” I cupped his cheek, dragging him out of his thoughts. Kissing him lightly on the mouth, I relished the taste of him. He had me wrapped around his little finger, and I’d kill for him in a second. “That ring was his?”
“Yeah….” He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. “It was a reminder to protect my heart, but I decided it was time to let it go. You broke through the walls I’d built.”
“I’m not sorry.” I slanted my mouth over his and kissed him again. I couldn’t get enough. “You will need to deal with King and Undertaker, though. They’re not happy with you.”
He opened his eyes and grinned. “I can handle them. I also don’t blame them. I hurt you.”
“Eh, I wouldn’t say hurt. More like I missed your asshole. It’s the tightest I’d had in a while.”
He poked me in the gut hard enough to make me squirm.
I laughed. “Fine. I enjoy your company. Are you really that whiny, though?”
“Yes.” He smiled teasingly. “I don’t like messes or smoking.”
“Or drinking, either.”
He shrugged. “I need to be on my A-game. Alcohol affects my ability to do my job and I’m a perfectionist.”
“Noted.” I slid my thumb over a scrape on his cheek and sighed. “If you hadn’t killed this motherfucker, I would have.”
Quain raised his eyebrows. “As if I’d let him go alive.”
I laughed and pressed my forehead against his. “Life is gonna be fun with you.”
“Well, we wouldn’t want you to be bored. I think I’d fit in with you and your uncle quite well.”
“And KC?” I asked with a grin.
“Did youseehow much that boy liked blowing up those cars?”
I laughed even harder.
Yep, this was going to be fun.
