Page 10 of Stalking His Assassin

“Exactly!” she slurs loudly.

I unlock her door, enter her security code, and then help her to her room. She faceplants on the bed, still mumbling about orgasms and silver foxes. I grab a bottle of water and pain relievers and set them on her nightstand. By the time I remove her shoes, she’s snoring. I check that her apartment is secure before leaving.

The streets are mostly empty at this time of night, so my drive home is a quick one. I pull into the parking garage and curse when I see a huge box blocking the gate to my private parking area.

“What the fuck…”

I stomp over to the box and realize it’s a military-grade crate for secure deliveries. I circle around the crate, wondering what the hell it could be and who would have put it here. I don’t want to move it in case it’s a bomb. Is jumping straight to someone trying to blow me up a little fatalistic? Yeah, probably, but I enjoy breathing too much to not be suspicious.

I’m beyond grateful that I did the lockdown before leaving. Whoever left this didn’t bother to try to get inside my gate, but they could have. I pull up the security footage from the parking garage and watch as a dark SUV without plates backs up to my gate, and a man dressed head-to-toe in black wearing a Halloween mask drags the crate none-to-gently out of the back of the SUV.

Well, that answers if it’s a bomb. The guy let the thing hit the ground without care. I watch the man push it in front of my gate and look straight into my camera. He lifts two fingers and salutes the camera.

“Motherfucker.”

The phone is to my ear and ringing before I even have time to think about what I’m doing. I’ve had his personal information since shortly after I met him, but I’ve been respectful and have never used it because there’s a certain code we have as members of the Syndicate. He’s crossed a line by coming to my home. The fact that he found my home pisses me off even more than him having the balls to come here.

“Good evening, Eris. To what do I owe this honor?” he asks, sounding more than a little amused.

“What’s in the box, Carver?” I ask through gritted teeth.

“As I said, it’s been decided. Time to quit running, Lucy.”

“Lucy is dead,” I snap.

He heaves a sigh. “Lucy. Grace. Eris. Ghost… those names are your past, present, and future.”

“What’s in the box?” I ask, annoyed by this conversation.

“It’s a gift.”

“And it’s what has been decided?” I fucking hate talking in circles. Tomas knows he’s getting on my nerves, and I have a feeling he’s enjoying it. I’m tempted to head to New York and show him why fucking with me is a bad idea. He may be a well-trained assassin, but I’m better. He knows it but doesn’t seem concerned.

“You’ll understand when you open the box. Don’t take too long. It has a short shelf life,” he says cryptically.

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

“Swear to God if there’s an animal in this box, I’m going to relocate every animal in the Bronx Zoo to your Brownstone.”

He barks a laugh, unlike anything I’ve heard from the stoic man in all the years I’ve known him. It takes him a couple minutes to get himself under control again. My annoyance has moved more towards amusement. I’m still pissed he somehow tracked me down, though.

“How did you find me?” I ask, needing to know if there is a hole in my security.

“Pure luck. I was in Seattle two years ago and saw you exiting Shield’s corporate office. I followed you back to your building. It wasn’t hard to figure out where you parked. Grace Silva is very much secure. I won’t divulge your secret.”

I let out a sigh of relief that it wasn’t some planned attempt to find me. A fucking awful coincidence that someone else in the assassin business that knows what I look like found me. This is why I’m careful to wear masks when doing jobs or meeting anyone concerning that part of my life.

“Thank you. It would be a serious pain in the ass to have to kill myself off and start fresh elsewhere.”

“I only have your best interests at heart. Remember that when you open the box. Don’t forget… short shelf life. You won’t enjoy what happens if you fail to open it in time.”

He ends the call before I can respond.

“Ugh.”

I open the gate and get ready to heave the box through, but find it easily rolls. “Well, at least the damn thing has wheels. And now I’m fucking talking to myself. Damn Tomas to Hell.”

I park my car and load the box into the elevator. I take it to the floor below my home. No way am I taking an unknown into my personal space. I wheel it into a room that could be described as a holding cell of sorts. It looks like a standard room but is as secure as a high-security prison cell. The entire room is reinforced, including the door. It would take a bomb to break out of the room.

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