Page 34 of His Target
Soft snoring comes from the living space and we turn to see Silas and Becket passed out on the floor, the sofa's cushions being used for their heads.
Porter looks back at me and I sign. "I feel bad that they don't have somewhere better to sleep after all the help they've given me. You as well. Without you, I would really be dead right now. I have no doubt."
He kisses my forehead. "I'm so glad I saved you and didn't go through with it. You make me feel at peace in ways I haven't felt since I was young."
I smile. I swear he's able to read my thoughts. "I feel the same way."
A grin pulls at his lips. The wordlovehangs between us, but I don't think either of us is brave enough to say it. It feels too soon and also not soon enough.
He pulls on my hand and leads me down the hall. We carefully step over his brother and go into the bathroom to wash off the makeup. It feels like a waste for him to go through all this work, for it to only last the amount of time it took us to stage and shoot my death scene.
He has the camera with him and shows me some of the photos. "Not going to lie, this is surreal," I sign as I rinse off my fingers to take out the contacts. It takes a second of fumbling, but I get it. I put them in the case. He said they're mine, he can't use them on anyone else.
"I think I have the two I'm going to send my dad. For confirmation. I'll talk to him tomorrow when I take the guys back to New York, tell him the truth but only after he confirms that the client has seen the photos and you're taken out of the network. I'll make sure to have Beckett double check everything and take down any possible photos of you or details about what you look like. A year from now you'll be able to go back to how you look now."
My gaze goes to the box of black hair dye Silas had in his case. I'm going to dye it after I get the fake brain matter out of my hair. "I'm going to look weird with black hair and brown eyes."
He stands behind me at the counter before he wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me flush against him. He rests his chin on my shoulder. "You'll be beautiful. I can't wait to take you out of here and on a real date. If you could go anywhere in the world. Where would you want to go?"
I think about it for a second. "Barcelona."
He arches a brow. "Why there?"
I shrug. "As a kid when I couldn't sleep I would think about all the places I would travel and see, for some reason Barcelona was the first on my list for places I would go to. It sounded magical to my kid brain."
He nods. "I like Barcelona, it's nice. I'll take you."
My eyes widen and I shake my head. "I feel like it would be expensive. You don't have to spend your money on me."
He kisses my neck. "If I want to spoil you, I can. You don't have to worry about money ever again. You can have mine, and I plan to transfer the money I get from your contract to a bank account in your name. It's only fair you get the bastards' money. You, my dear, will soon be a millionaire."
My vision swims at the news. "They paid that much for me?"
He holds me steady. "More than that, but that's the cut I would've gotten. We only deal in big number contracts. The smaller ones are too risky."
"Get undressed, I need to run up to the top to send these and then I'll come back and wash that gunk out of your hair."
I watch him go. I can't believe how much my life has changed this month.
Chapter Seventeen
Porter
I sigh.The payment went through, which means I'm free to tell my dad the truth of what I've been up to. Now that the deed is done, he can't stop me and there's no point in him telling the client when they believe the job was successful. I knock on his study door at the family estate. He used to have an office at the Bancroft I.N.K cover building, but in the last year he's been doing it all from home. Next month, when he gives the reins over to Cason, he'll be on full retirement. We'll be running the business and making sure all our endeavors stay afloat. He's going to do whatever he wants to do without having to worry about managing our asses for the rest of his life.
"Enter."
I open the door to find him not sitting at his desk working at his laptop but standing and staring out the window at the expanse of the family estate. There are enough acres that all of us could have large family houses built on it and there would still be room for more.
He turns to me and offers me a soft smile. "Hey, Port. I wasn't expecting to see you today.
I smile and then frown as I notice he has a glass of scotch in one hand. He's not normally one to day drink. "Thought I would stop by so we can have a chat. Is everything okay?"
He lifts a brow at me and when my gaze goes to the drink in his hand he looks at it and laughs. "Oh, don't worry about this. I'll be sipping it through the day. Michail Kotov was here before you. You know how he is."
I nod. Not entirely sure I believe him. I take a seat in front of his desk. "I do."
He takes a seat as well but doesn't stop holding the glass. "So what did you come to chat about? Let me guess. Is it why you went MIA with the Clemens hit? You've never lost a hit for that long. So, tell me, what's really going on?"
