Page 8 of Vengeful Lies

Eli curls his hand around the collar of the man’s shirt, fisting enough material to slowly lift him to standing. “And does it make it better if a man assaults you instead? I know plenty who might take you up on that offer, but I’m not sure you’ll like the items they use.”

A cold shudder runs down my back. I’ve seen this man kill, but when he whispers threats, I must confess it’s terrifying. His voice is so smooth and deep, it’s like a lullaby. But one that only promises death.

And the man is too terrified to even lift the gun that’s now gripped loosely in his hand, his arm hanging slack by his side. With a quick movement, Eli is behind him, his thick arm cording around his neck as his other hand grabs the gun. The man grapples, but to no avail, and the whole time, Eli stares at me, those ethereal eyes looking back at me like the devil himself in the dark as the hallway light seeps through to silhouette his frame.

My heartbeat kicks up as I suddenly realize my miscalculation.

I got cocky.

Taunting a monster like this is dangerous.

If it were an immediate hit, he would’ve already been dead.

But this… the closer I get, as per instructed by the client, the more lethal the job becomes to me.

This guy’s a fucking nutjob. The man crumples to the floor, and Eli lets him slip from his hold as if he’s less than trash.

He looks down at the gun he’s now holding, seeming underwhelmed, and then his gaze lands back on me.

Every instinct tells me to run.

Every reflex tells me to make sure I’m the only monster left standing.

Silence fills the room, and I remember my part to play as I look down at the man on the floor between us. I can faintly see he is still breathing, but instead, I innocently ask, “Is he dead?”

“No. But he’ll remember this in the morning. You know how it is, an uncle of someone’s who I don’t want to piss off by accidentally killing him,” he says matter-of-factly. But I know he doesn’t care about things like that. If Eli wants to kill without reason, he does. Which means he’s testing me.

I purposefully avert my gaze, trying to look as innocent as possible. “I-I don’t m-much like violence. I should pr-probably leave,” I stutter intentionally.

“Shouldn’t you be leaving me a note with a kiss first?” Eli arches an eyebrow that has a scar, splitting it in half. As he speaks, he releases the magazine from the gun and tosses it aside. I realize he knows who I am, but he’s toying with me and pretending to be unarmed. “You’re not even going to try and deny it? I must confess, the stutter was a nice touch.”

Fuck, he knows exactly who I am. I could deny it all I like, but it’s not going to get me anywhere with a man like this.

So, instead, I let the innocent act slip, not particularly being fond of it.

“It’s just business. Nothing personal,” I say as I carefully weigh my options. Then again, I’ve always acted on impulse. My only saving grace, I remind myself, is that I still have a mask on. “How did you know it was me?”

“Simply by the fact that you were ballsy enough to walk in here. Your height, the color of your hair…” He takes a step forward. “The way you hold yourself.” He takes another step, and I take one back, considering grabbing the knife at my thigh. “But where you really fucked up was thinking you could hide your presence when you shine like a fucking beacon even in the darkness.”

My heart stops at that.

The realization that I’m cornered.

I don’t do well being cornered.

“Shouldn’t you be whispering such sweet nothings to Michelle?”

“Michelle’s not trying to kill me,” he replies, angling his arm above my head and pushing me against the wall—a luxury I allow him. My greatest skill is catching people by surprise, but I know well and truly he could suffocate me with one hand.

“She will no doubt kill you one day with all her flowery sweetness, I’m sure,” I taunt with a smile.

His gaze bores into me as he hunches over, his elbow casually above my head. “Whose order are you here under, and what do they want?” he demands.

I casually shrug, not breaking eye contact. “I don’t know. I just sign the dotted line for a paycheck. Please don’t think you’re that important that I care as towhysomeone wants you dead.”

The corner of his mouth twitches. “A lot of people want me dead.”

“Most likely because of your intolerable personality. But who am I to judge?”

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