Page 2 of No Mercy
Parents: Carlos Ashford & Maria Ashford (deceased)
Siblings: Antonio, Axel, Flynn & Gunnar.
My eyes hover over his parents’ names, a pang of sympathy tightening my chest. No one deserves to lose their parents, no matter how old they are. “I know how you feel, buddy,” I whisper, resting my hand on the empty page where their details should be. There’s barely anything here about them, or his brothers. It’s like they don’t exist.
The vibration of my phone jolts me as Mandy’s personalised ringtone blares on full volume. I reach for it quickly, trying to answer before it ends but when I lean forward, my head collides with the dash. “Fucking stupid…” I grumble, rubbing the soon to be golf ball on my forehead.
Answering the call, I put on my most dramatic voice. “Hello, you’ve reached the ‘Welcome to Hell’ helpline. Press one for ‘Devils-R-Us.”Mandy’s laughter bubbles through the phone. “Your day is going well, then?”
“Fantastic. Truly. You should do this tomorrow and see for yourself.”
Mandy was my first friend when I moved to America five years ago. She was looking for a roommate and I was looking for a bed. We’ve been inseparable ever since, like sisters. She even got me this job. And for that, I’ll always be grateful. But right now, I’d happily trade her for a nap.
“Still nothing?” she asks.
“Not a thing. Not even a cheeky McDonald’s trip to break the routine.”
As I complain, movement catches my eye.
Carter stands by the weights, talking to a woman who’s bending over in front of him. Subtle, dude,realsubtle. Then someone else approaches him. Carter’s posture stiffens, his head snapping up. I squint, trying to see the direction they’re looking, but the glare from the sun obscures my view.
“Stupid sun,” I mutter, cranking up the heat to combat the sudden chill running through me. Mandy’s voice pulls me back. “-talking about pulling you off the job.”
“What?!” I sit bolt upright, ripping off my eye mask that dried out hours ago. “They’re pulling me off?”
“Looks like it. I’ll give you the details when you’re back.”
Relief floods me. “Mandy, you’re officially my favourite person.”
“You say that like I’m not your only friend,” she teases.
“Oh, hush. I also have Adam.”
We chat for a bit aboutLove is Blind,but my laughter dies as my gaze drifts back to the gym. Standing just beyond the gym doors is a man. And he is staring straight at me. My phone slips from my hand. “Shit, shit, shit.”
I grab it quickly, fumbling to end the call. “Mandy, gotta go!” My pulse pounds as the man approaches my car stopping at my window the moment I throw my phone next to me. I hold my breath, hoping he’ll just walk on.
Please keep walking, please kee-
No such luck. He knocks, his knuckles sharp against the glass.
You’ve got this, Eva. You’re a badass PI.
Rolling down the window, I force a smile. “Hi. How can I help you?”
He chuckles, low and rough, he has an accent but not the typical Boston one you hear around here. “Maybe I should be asking you that, seeing as you’ve been parked outside my gym all week.” My cheeks burn as I take him in. Tall, broad-shouldered, with piercing blue eyes that seem to pin me in place. His dark brown hair is shaved on the sides, longer on top, and a tattoo snakes up his neck, disappearing beneath his shirt.
“Uh…” I scramble for words. His lips quirk into a smirk, one brow raising as if he can see straight through me. “So?” he asks,his voice carrying a challenge. “What’s it gonna be?” I grip the wheel tighter, my stomach in knots.Think, Eva. Think.
“Architecture,” I blurt out. “I was admiring the architecture.” His brow lifts higher, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Architecture, huh?” His smirk deepens. “Sure. And I’m the mayor of Boston.”
I am so, so screwed.
