Page 2 of Marked

“A small coffee, cream and sugar.” I hand over a few bills to cover it. No credit cards. No debit cards. Nothing that can be traced to me.

Even my fingerprints on that bill won’t get anyone anywhere.

I move over to the waiting area for my coffee, still keeping my eyes on the book beauty in the corner. She’s back to reading.

Her face tenses. She winces, and pulls her hand from the book. She’s given herself a paper cut.

Her middle finger disappears into her mouth, leaving a small smudge of blood just below her bottom lip. It’s a tiny amount. I doubt anyone around her sees it. But I’ve got an eye for blood. Seeing every bit of it helps when cleaning it up.

She puts her book down with a sigh, and takes another sip of her drink. Her eyes line up with mine again, and this time she doesn’t dart them away.

There’s something in her gaze, something familiar. She’s fearful, but she’s forcing herself not to hide.

She’s strong.

But I doubt she can see it.

A moment goes by, then another. We’re just staring at each other. I won’t look away first. I want to see how long I can hold her attention.

Fear is an aphrodisiac. People may not like to admit it, but it’s the truth. And truth is what I’m all about.

The scent of fear is strong, and gets stronger the longer she stares into my eyes.

Slowly, I arch my eyebrow, tilting my head in her direction.

A dare.

Will she come to me, or will she dive back into her book?

The pull between us increases the longer this little standoff of ours continues. Like two magnets inching closer and closer, until the force of attraction is too strong to be fought and they smash together.

“Connor.” The barista calls out the name I’ve chosen for this job.

The blonde beauty breaks eye contact to look at the barista. When she swings her eyes back to me, the fear is gone.

I give her a hint of a smile.

She thinks she’s safe now.

I grab my coffee from the counter.

What a curious little bird.

I glance back at her as I head to the door. Her eyes dart to her book.

Hmmm. She’s watching me.

I push my sunglasses back on and head back to my car, stopping at the trunk.

Popping it open, I hold it to keep it from opening all the way. No need to give the neighbors a full view of my work.

“It’s a hot day. Hope you’re keeping cool back here.” I take a casual sip of my coffee before looking down at him. Sweat mingles with the dried blood around the duct tape keeping his mouth shut.

Keeping the lid as closed as possible while holding my coffee, I reach inside and rip the tape off. Little droplets of fresh blood appear around his mouth.

Duct tape is not kind to the skin.

“How well do you know the people in this town?”

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