Page 7 of Butcher

Toxic reached out and untied the cloth, pulling it away from the guy’s mouth. “Do we have a deal?”

His terrified eyes darted to me and he nodded, licking his lips. Sad.Usually you get some pleading or begging. This guy went straight to the acceptance phase. Weak.

“Are you actually an assassin?” I asked, disgusted with him and his cowardice.

“In training,” he admitted.

My brows shot up. “That’s a thing?”

“Sure,” the man replied with a shrug. “Just like anything you have to learn the ropes somewhere.”

Toxic shot me an amused look, then asked, “Who are you learning from?”

“My cousin, but he told me not to take this job. Said the guy…you,” he corrected, looking at me, “was too much of a risk. I thought he was being stupid because they’re offering a fuck ton of money.”

That made me happy. If I was a discount job, I might have to do something more drastic to change that. I leaned forward and got in his face. “How’s that money seeming now?” I asked in a low voice.

“Not worth it,” he replied, gulping. “If you let me go-”

“Not happening,” I interrupted. “You heard the deal. It’s the best you’re going to get.”

“How much they offering for him?” Toxic asked.

“Don’t get any ideas,” I growled.

“Just curious. Alright, who hired you?” Toxic asked.

“I don’t know.”

Toxic crossed his arms over his chest. “You do understand what cooperation means? Right?”

“I just know the name of the middle man,” the guy said, shaking his head. We hadn’t even bothered to getthis guy’sname. It wasn’t going to matter in ten more minutes anyway. The only names that mattered now were the bosses, but I’d take a middle man for now. Hmm…I’d have to cut out his midsection, be poetic and shit.

“Well, what’s his name?”

“Randal.”

“Stupid fucking name,” I muttered.

“Randal what?” Toxic asked, giving me a nod of agreement about the name.

“I don’t have a last name. He doesn’t disclose who his clients are. He just told me about Butcher and that they wanted him dead. Guy wouldn’t even meet with me, since I’m new to all this. Just called me on the phone and shipped me the information packet on you.”

“Was there a return address?” Toxic asked.

The guy shook his head, then shrugged when I glared at him for being useless. “Any particular reasonwhythey want me dead?” I asked.

He shook his head. “They don’t tell us anything… Probably for this exact reason,” he admitted in a rueful tone.

“How many others are there?” I asked.

He shrugged. “No idea.”

“Does this count as cooperating?” I looked over at Toxic.

“Unfortunately for you, it does. Chump here might be an amateur, but Randal…”

“Stupid fucking name.”

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