Page 35 of Killer Kiss

“Nora, dear, this is really not hot enough. You know I like my coffee scalding. Could you try again?” She gave the lady an honest smile. The kind she could never seem to dredge up for me because I was clearly more disappointing than bad coffee.

Nora left to try again, poor old biddy, and I figured I may as well disappoint my mother a little more.

“Why did you tell Riddick I needed help doing the job I’ve been doing since I was fifteen?”

Mom folded her hands on the tabletop and gave me the same look she’d been giving me since I was a kid. The one that made it clear I was annoying to her because I couldn’t read her mind.

“Why do you talk about it like it’s a bad thing? You know Riddick is top of the game. You could learn a lot from him.”

Yeah, a lot about things I was pretty sure I didn’t want to know. While there was clearly some part of me that was messed up enough to enjoy taking people’s lives for a living, I didn’t torture people. I didn’t put gunshots in places that wouldn’t be fatal. My job was to kill quickly and cleanly and then move on. Maybe I took a minute, soaking in the scene and taking pride in my work.

But what Riddick did went beyond that. He was impulsive. Sloppy. He’d shot that woman in the throat, even though she had nothing to do with the job.

I’d seen the wild recklessness in his eyes.

Riddick was famous in our industry because he was ruthless and dangerous. But the small taste I’d had of his methods over the last few days had left me cold. I’d put on makeup that morning, gingerly dabbing thick foundation over the fading bruising on my chin from where he’d grabbed me in the storeroom of Jezebel’s flower shop.

Riddick wasn’t only dangerous to the targets in our job bags.

He was dangerous to everyone.

Including me.

“I know enough,” I told my mother firmly. “I don’t want him on my jobs.”

She smiled at Nora again when a fresh cup of probably boiling coffee was placed in front of her.

It was tempting to throw it in my mother’s face.

But I folded my hands in my lap instead while she took a sip and poor, hovering Nora could finally breathe a sigh of relief at getting it right. She scurried off.

Mom put her mug down with a clink of porcelain on the tabletop. “Well, I’m sorry you feel that way. You need to get to know him. Be seen a few places together. It’ll make it more believable that this is a union of your choosing when we announce your engagement.”

I raised an eyebrow. “My what?”

Mom frowned, and I wondered if I should point out that her Botox could probably use a top-up, too.

“Didn’t Riddick discuss it with you?” she asked. “We ironed out all the details when I gave him the information about your last job.”

I gaped at her. “You ironed out all the details about my engagement? Without even telling the bride?”

She huffed impatiently. “Stop being so dramatic. You’re the one who argued with me about letting your brother love who he loved.”

“What have Vincent and Scythe got to do with you marrying me off to Riddick?”

She reached beneath the table, pushing a bag in my direction. “Open it.”

I already knew what it was. A new target.

“Why?” I could open it later when I was alone.

Mom shook her head like I was an imbecile for not understanding words she hadn’t said. “You’re so spoiled, and I blame myself for that. I’ve always just handed you everything. You’ve never had to do any of the hard work yourself.”

I blinked and lowered my voice, straining toward her. “I don’t do the hard work? Mom, last I checked, I was the one doing all the…” I darted a look around at the mostly empty coffee shop but didn’t dare risk it. I made a face with my tongue hanging out and made a choking noise.

Mom didn’t give me any praise for my acting abilities. “That is the second-to-last job we have on the roster. The work is drying up.”

I shrugged. “So? Something else will come up.”

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