Page 4 of Intense
I often wonder about my last moments. I’d want mine to be with my brothers, drinking a beer in Dublin. Not prancing around in my boxers at midnight on a Wednesday, trying to burn some calories, like this asshole is.
I check the time on my Rolex.
Go to fucking bed, buddy. I have a life to get on with.
“Are we going in yet?” Rowan asks from beside me.
“Not yet.”
“What, are we letting him finish his routine?” Reggie, Rowan’s identical twin brother, grunts from the other side of me.
I used to work mainly on my own. But these two dipshits have become like the extended family I didn’t ask for. And they’re exactly as you’d expect of Irish twins. Reggie is the serious one, and Rowan, the batshit crazy one.
“Yeah. I need him asleep for what I have planned this time.”
“Right,” Reggie says.
Their preferred method of killing is more of a spectacle. Brutish. Mine? More methodical. Evil. I’ve spent years training to save lives, but it’s also meant I can perfect the most painful deaths.
And these cunts deserve it.
Flicking my cigarette into the water, I stand, securing my flat cap.
“Does he seem like a mafia boss to you? Or a leader of any kind?” I ask the twins, already knowing the answer.
Something seems off.
Rowan frowns, looking back up at the dancing man in the window.
“Not really?”
“Hmm.”
Drago, our hacker and man behind the scene, is certain this is our last target. Following on from my brother, Conan’s, Decadence Chase, we have located and killed the first eight targets easily. But this one was fucking hard to find and landed us in Ohio of all places.
“You think it’s not him?”
I grunt.
“He is the man who entered Abigail.”
But is he The Preacher? The man Abigail warned me about as she set off for her new life.
“He will never let me go. He’s evil. I’m not safe in the United States.”That’s what she told me, breaking down into hysterics. Enzo has contacts in Italy, so we made an agreement with him to have her sent to Italy to live.
But her words have bothered me ever since. ‘The Preacher’ didn’t appear on any of her paperwork. We can’t find shit about him.
She showed me her brand, the italic PR carved into her forearm. That fear in her eyes—it was real. As I look up at this balding, dancing man, I know it ain’t the leader of whatever organization she was a part of. Something deep in my bones tells me it’s something far bigger.
“What you thinking, Finn?” Reggie asks.
“That, we have to make sure this death doesn’t come back to us. I’m not sure about this place.”
I rub my stubble on my jaw. I got a bad feeling about this, and I never ignore my gut. I did that once, and that ended up killing me at age ten.
I shake my head, not wanting to remember that time of my life. I buried it with them.
Rowan nudges me. “Hey, the light’s gone off.”
