Page 4 of Secret Weapon

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NINE

Baldwin’s Shore was a town of two halves.

Half the people who lived there were running away from something, and the other half wanted to run but couldn’t.

I was no different.

Living a lie, always looking over my shoulder to see ifhehad caught up with me yet.

My former boss.

My mentor.

My nemesis.

He was a patient man.A planner.A devil in human form who ruled his cold world with a leaden fist.A psychopath who never forgave or forgot.

Of course, he didn’t get his own hands dirty, not anymore, although perhaps he’d make a special exception for me.After what I’d done.But he’d send his foot soldiers first.Then his son.His beloved daughter.From time to time, I wondered what had become of them.Whether Vik had grown to be as ruthless as his father, whether Nastya had been elevated to queen yet.

We’d been friends once, Nastya and I.Roommates for three years.But then our paths had diverged, and I’d ended up here.Burrowed into a life that wasn’t mine.The rest of my team dead while I lived on borrowed time.

Bored.

Bitter.

Disciplined.

Ready.

Waiting.

Tomorrow was Sunday, which meant a predawn run, followed by a drive north to the forest in Douglas County for some target practice before work.The hardest part of this new life was training alone.Once, I’d craved solitude, but now I found that the most broken part of me missed those impromptu discussions about weapons over lunch, missed the sparring, missed the rivalry that had pushed me to improve every single day.

My team had been my anchor.

And now instead of being free, I was adrift.

Every day, I wore a mask, a mask that had become a second skin, but there were times when it felt as if my body were rejecting the organ.

Like today.

Paulo, one of the two retail assistants I employed, had bounced into the store at a quarter to nine, and he hadn’t stopped talking since.Brooke was on duty too—all three of us worked Saturdays—and she’d shielded me from some of the cheerfulness, but I’d still developed a headache by ten a.m.

Then things got worse.

At ten thirty, the bell above the door jangled, and suddenly there were two of them.Two excitable men with outrageous hair getting excited over Swarovski cabochons and giant yarn.Personally, when it came to practicality, I preferred paracord.It had superior tensile strength, and it was far easier to knot.

I raised my gaze to the ceiling.Lord, grant me the serenity not to shoot anyone today.The blonde who’d followed Paulo’s twin inside made a beeline for the gift section on the other side of the store, as far away as she could get, and who could blame her?She probably had a headache too.

“Does this yarn come in any other shades of pink?”the twin asked, holding up a two-foot-wide ball in bubblegum.

I forced a smile.“Sure does, hun.It comes in flamingo and fuchsia, but those are both special order.”

“How long does it take to arrive?”

“They say two weeks, but it’s usually a little faster.”

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