Page 11 of The Killer's Payment

What have I done?

Five

James

What?

Fuckingwhat?

Her father sold her? Actually fuckingsoldher? Like she’s a product? A piece of meat?

My jaw clenches. My shoulders. My hands.

I only notice the latter when she yelps out in pain.

“I thought if you… if we…” Her voice trails off while she tries to compose herself. “If I could somehow seduce you into…fuckingme, that would make me…damaged goods. You know? And the man who bought me made it clear he wouldn’t accept damaged goods.”

“The man who bought you is a fucking cunt,” I snap.

I know. I know.

People in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.

But this goes back to what my men should have known yesterday—there has to be some kind of honor amongst thieves. Otherwise, this is exactly what happens. Children getting abducted, daughters being used as debt repayments, wives becoming body parts dropped all over the city.

It’s all fine and wellfantasizingabout hitting people where it hurts, and another thing having to live with the reality of doing that, and having it done to you, every single day. You need to make money, absolutely, but you also need to be able to sleep at night.

So lost in my thoughts, I didn’t even notice I’d let go of her when she cried out. I’m only now noticing that she hasn’t yet moved away, despite having the opportunity.

“Your plan was—”

“Ridiculous—proven by the fact it failed miserably,” she says, cutting me off, her already flushed cheeks turning a shade deeper. “I know.”

When she turns her head away, I lift my hand and pull her gaze back to me. “Well, yes,” I concede. “But I was going to saybrave.”

She forces a smile, a smile I don’t think she really means. “Bravery is definitely a kinder way of saying the same thing.”

“Kind?” I laugh. “There’s not much kind about me, princess. You’d have found that out if your little plan had been successful.”

Another forced smile. “Maybe it’s for the best thatmy little planfailed, then…”

“You think? Might want to tell my cock that, princess.”

She laughs then, and it’s this adorable little giggle that has places inside me I never knew existed warming up. It has me smiling.Smiling.It feels odd on my face and I try to stop it, but I can’t.

“You should do that more often,” she says.

“What? Talk about my cock?”

I know what she meant—I should smile more often, but I’m not about to draw more attention to the fact I’m doing it. She just shakes her head.

“So…” Her eyes trail around the room.

“So…” I repeat. “What are we going to do with you?”

She doesn’t reply, just finds some spot on the wall and fixes her gaze on it like it’s doing something interesting.

“You’re not going back there,” I tell her.

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