Page 26 of Guarding Bristol

Angel said nothing.

Jordan angled his head slightly, watching him.“Aren’t you curious as to who’s on the list?”

That tone, the flat, measuring stare warned him that he could be a potential suspect.So Angel weighed his response carefully.“No, sir.It doesn’t matter to me who the target is.”

A slight smile curled the edge of Jordan’s mouth.“I’m glad you see it that way.”

He wasn’t all that worried about winding up a suspect.He’d been aware from the start that they remotely monitored his personal phone.He made sure there was nothing on it that could be incriminating.Just as he made sure that there was nothing suspicious to see when they watched or followed him.He’d never stepped out of line.Never done anything that might draw scrutiny, at least where they could see it.

“You don’t talk much, do you, Angel?”

“No, sir.”Talking was a great way to wind up dead in this toxic web he’d entangled himself in.Hard to believe that a little over a year ago he’d had a legitimate job.But it hadn’t paid a tenth of what this did, and his skill set enabled him to be silent and lethal.A useful tool for the organization.

Jordan walked over to round the edge of the large, antique mahogany desk and sat in the plush chair behind it, leaning back to regard him thoughtfully.“I like you, Angel.I like the way you work, and I like the way you conduct yourself.Since you started with me, I haven’t had a single report on you containing anything that is the least bit worrying.I hope that continues.”

Angel didn’t answer, repressing the chill starting to creep up from the base of his spine at the thinly veiled threat.Because no answer was required, and the meaning was clear.They were watching him.Always.They would keep watching him, and his continued good conduct wasn’t necessarily a guarantee of remaining in the boss’s good graces.

All it would take was a single whisper of doubt from one person.A rumor or suggestion from a falcon, or anyone else in the organization for that matter.Any single hint of suspicion against him, and Angel would wind up on the target list himself.Because there were others like him.Contract killers he wasn’t even aware of.If his name wound up on that list, they would come for him within hours.

The ticking clock in the back of his mind sped up a little faster.Time was running out more quickly than he had anticipated.

Realizing he wasn’t going to get whatever reaction from him he’d hoped for, Jordan’s expression turned bored.“You’ll be informed when the target is verified.”He flicked his wrist dismissively.“You can go.”

Angel did an about-face and left without a word.Jon followed him every step of the way outside to the front entrance where he’d left his car.The armed guard at the gate stared at him for a long moment before letting him out.

Letting out a deep breath of relief, he drove home deep in thought.The little one-bedroom bungalow at the end of the cul-de-sac looked so cheerful with its tidy yard and the rows of red flowers lining either side of the front walkway that matched the red shutters framing the windows.

No one would ever guess that a cartel hitman lived in a place like this.

As far as he could tell, no one had followed him home, and no one was parked along the street.As a precaution he checked for bugs or cameras every few days when he was home, but he was realistic enough to understand that he might not catch everything.He unlocked the back door and stepped into the darkened kitchen.

His heart sank.The only time Liana didn’t cook was when she was having a bad day.

“I’m home,” he called out, spotting the line of light coming from under the closed door at the end of the hallway.

Pausing in front of it, he put on a smile before opening it.Liana was in bed with the covers pulled up to her chin, the cat curled up beside her.She gave him a tired, apologetic smile.“Hi.Sorry there’s no dinner.Again.”Her voice was weak.Exhausted.

“Don’t worry about that,” he said, sitting on the edge of the mattress to smooth her hair back from her forehead.She was pale, with dark circles under her eyes.“Not a good day, huh.”

“Tomorrow will be better.”

She always said that.Her bravery and stubbornly positive attitude broke his heart.

Neither of them had known what the strange symptoms had meant when they had begun their honeymoon two years ago, and neither of them could have guessed how dire the final diagnosis would be.Recently, she’d had more bad days than good, yet through everything she’d endured, through all the ups and downs and tests and hospitalizations, she remained the kindest, sweetest soul he’d ever met.

He didn’t deserve her, but he was doing everything he could to keep her safe and make enough money to pay for her treatments.

“Get any sleep today?”he asked.

“A little.Never seems like enough these days.I sleep almost as much as Stevie.”She nodded at their cat, Stevie Licks, who watched him with one half-closed eye.

The exhaustion worried Angel.As time went on, it seemed like the grains of sand passed faster and faster through the hourglass, and he was helpless to slow them down.But he had to find a way.He would do anything to buy her more time.

Including sell his soul to the devil.Which he’d already done.

“How was your day?”she murmured.

“Not bad.”He noticed her laptop sitting on the bedside table.“Find anything interesting today?”

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