Page 29 of Killer Kiss

“You like coffee. Drink it.”

I did like it. I also didn’t trust Riddick as far as I could throw him, and he’d come out of the gas station with this cup. For all I knew he’d dropped Rohypnol in it and was just waiting for me to take a sip.

I also didn’t like being told what to do, and after hours and hours of this bullshit, I was over it. My patience snapped. I rolled down the window and upended the to-go cup, letting dark-brown liquid splash all over the road.

I had the pleasure of watching Riddick’s jaw tense for a second before his eyes turned deadly dark.

It was enough to remind me who I was dealing with. And that poking this particular bear was a death wish. “Sorry,” I muttered. “I’m not a morning person.”

It had been the most boring stakeout ever, just sitting there waiting for someone to leave a building. Who did overnight shifts at an office? That was dodgy in itself, and it likely had something to do with the reason this man had a hit on him.

But the reasons behind hits and who ordered them weren’t my business. We weren’t told information like that, and I knew better than to ask. I didn’t even want to know. The less I knew, the better.

“I like mornings when everything is fresh and clean and possibilities are endless.” Riddick put his blinker on, following the target, as we had been ever since he’d emerged from his workplace a bleary-eyed and disheveled mess.

I shifted uncomfortably. “Well, that’s nice for you, but I’m definitely more of a night owl.”

Riddick tutted like that was the wrong choice. “Your mother didn’t tell me that when I agreed to this.”

I glanced at him, seeing the out I’d been hoping for. “You can watch this target during the day. I’ll watch him at night. Then we can compare notes and create a plan of attack.”

Whatever got me away from Riddick.

He didn’t say anything, just frowned when I yawned again. I didn’t know what he expected from me after we’d been up all night. I shifted and peered out through the windshield at the now-familiar license plate of the car in front of us. JE 87 ME. I’d memorized it hours ago, while we’d been sitting outside the office building. Surveillance was always the most boring part of the job. My parents gave us a head start with the job bag, filled with as much information as they could find. But I liked to go that one step further. I liked to watch. To wait. To get to know the person and their habits before I made my move. Sometimes I did that for months, making sure I knew everything about them. Sometimes it only took a week. But never less.

Anything less was sloppy. Rushed and careless.

That wasn’t how I rolled.

The Benz in front of us turned into a street, and Riddick followed, accelerating around the corner, closing the gap between the two vehicles.

“Stay back,” I warned him. “You’re too close. He’s going to notice us.”

Riddick ignored me, urging the vehicle on faster so we were practically nose to bumper with the other car.

“Riddick!” The demand was sharper this time. “Knock it off.”

“I told you. I’m a morning person, and this morning seems like a good one to get this job done.”

“What?” I snapped, straining forward against my seat belt to stare at him. “We aren’t doing this now. It’s broad daylight, we know nothing about the target—”

“We know enough.”

“We don’t even know who he lives with! He could have an entire police squad camped in his kitchen for all we know.”

The Benz turned into a driveway, and to my horror, Riddick did the same. “Get your mask on, Ophelia. Let’s go have some fun.”

“What? All these houses have security cameras, Riddick! The cops will have your license plates—”

“Please. They’re stolen. How stupid do you think I am?”

The fact we were doing this with the sun shining and almost no preparation made me think the answer was ‘a lot’ but I didn’t have time to say that. He’d already dragged his mask down and had one foot out of the truck.

There was nothing left for me to do but pull out my balaclava, hastily shove it down over my face, and follow.

Gorman Dentry shuffled papers and a briefcase into his arms as he got out of his Mercedes then turned in our direction. His mouth opened in shock when Riddick rushed him, clapping one gloved hand over his mouth so he couldn’t scream and the other around his chest. Riddick squeezed his victim like he was an anaconda, cutting off his air supply, and dragged him toward the house.

I had little choice but to go after them or be left standing on Gorman’s perfectly manicured lawn while Riddick did my job for me.

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