Page 27 of Beautiful, Violent

“Okay.” He reaches over and touches my hand, trying to console me. I lace my fingers in his, something we’ve never done but it feels good.

Rigger knows why I hate guns, and the conflict it stirs within me. I’ve only had to use a gun one other time, and it messed me up for days.

Rigger is pushing me to my limits. And he knows it. He does it from time to time. And I used to wonder if he was a sadist. But he doesn’t seem to get off on it. So maybe he just wants me to be the best killer that I can be. To reach my highest assassin potential. And hey, if I can get through killing with his gun, without having a panic attack afterwards, it’ll show how much I’ve grown.

“I know guns bring back bad memories for you. But it will be over soon and you’ll have some time to recover before tackling whatever’s next on your list.”

“What’s next on my list is more mayhem,” I say nonchalantly, thinking of a particular Puerto Rican.

“Mayhem and gore, yes.” He pulls his hand away. “The stuff that dreams are made of.”

Chapter 8

After slipping into some black heels, I move to the mirror to assess how I look. Red hair matches my complexion perfectly and the freckles along my nose look totally natural. What little tan I have on my legs is concealed under pale pantyhose. My skirt is a tan spandex mini and if it doesn’t grab the attention of every man I pass, I don’t know what will. I choose a slightly more tasteful blouse—tasteful in that it’s loose—but the front dips down enough that you can see I’m built for the man who likes more than a mouthful.

A knock at the connecting door of my suite makes me jump. I almost forgot that Rigger is just on the other side of this wall. I twist the lock and open the door, letting him in. His nose is down, reading something on his phone. When he looks up, he starts to say something but freezes, moving his eyes up and down the length of me.

“Can you tell it’s me?” I ask.

He pulls back slightly. “In certain places, yes. But everywhere else, no.”

“Good. I guess that means I’m ready.”

“Should be easy to get him alone in an outfit like that. You might be fighting a few hungry guys off before you can get to him though.”

“That I can handle.” I toss a look back in the mirror, wipe some lipstick away from the corner of my mouth.

Rigger moves to the table and sets his phone down then pulls his .22 out of the pouch around his waist. I didn’t even see it when he came in.

“You remember how to use this I presume.”

“You presume correctly.”

He nods me over. “Let me be sure.”

I stand in place. “If you have any doubts that I don’t remember how to use a gun you shouldn’t be trusting me with this job.”

His eyes point at me, sharp and unassuming. “I do trust you with this job. But it’s in my controlling nature to be doubly sure of everything.”

Holding back an eye roll, I walk to him and hold out my hand. I twist the silencer off then back on. I flip the safety off then back on. And I remind him that as much as I hate this thing, I know how to use it as well as or better than he does.

“Huh. Better than? Highly doubtful. But yes. You know a thing or two.”

I shake my head and take the weapon to my purse, carefully placing it at the bottom. “Now that I’ve satiated your control issues you can rest assured of my safety tonight.”

“Wrong. I’ll always worry about your safety.” He sits down in the pleather chair next to the breakfast table, leaning back and clasping his hands behind his head. “Matter of fact, I want you to wear a wire so I can hear if anything goes awry.”

“A wire? You’ve never had me do that before.” I sit on the bed and look at my nails. I picked up some black polish to match my whole attitude about the gun situation.

“Yeah, well, we’re treading on different ground now, sugar.”

“If anything goes awry I’ll just slit his throat.” I flash a toothy smile but Rigger isn’t impressed.

“Tove. You’re doing this job instead of me because you wanted to. This job needs to go the way I say.”

I pull some of the bright red strands down over my shoulder and look at the floor, thinking about what could go wrong if Chris sees the wire. “I’ll do it the way you say but if it comes down to me versus him he’s going to lose, by any means necessary. Wearing a wire adds a whole new dimension of risk and you know that.”

“I get that. But it also adds a layer of protection.” Rigger looks at me with grave seriousness. “This is a special job. You’re taking out another killer. I don’t want to take any chances. And the M.O. is critical here.”

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