Page 7 of The Hitman's Virgin
“It doesn’t matter. Really.”
He wished he could delve into her mind, find out every dream and desire. In the short time he’d come to know her, he realized she didn’t like to cause trouble or make waves. She didn’t want to be a burden. His guest didn’t realize it yet, but she was never going to be a burden to him.
He pulled out a couple of pieces of chicken, some barbecue sauce, and then got to work.
“You’re not allergic to anything, right?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Not that I’m aware of.”
“Good.”
He set up the grill and scored the top of the chicken, then went to the cupboard behind him to grab one of his favorite spice blends that had chipotle.
“You don’t mind things a little spicy, do you?”
“Not at all. And I’m not picky.” She offered him a smile. “I had no idea you could cook too.”
There were a lot of things she didn’t know. He knew how to kill a man and make it look like a suicide, and he could makepeople disappear without a trace. It was a gift he had—one he didn’t intend to ever let her know about. He didn’t want to scare her. Didn’t want her to think less of him.
“Did your mom teach you?” she asked.
“Nah, I don’t know much about my parents.” He did know who they were, but they were long dead. Two drug users who’d put him into care before he was even a month old. They died before he left the care system, from drug overdoses. Unlike some people, he had never cared about being left in the care home. When he was younger, he had several counselors and physiatrists try to label him, some even wanted to admit him. A couple had said he was a man without a soul.
Either way, it had made him one of the best hunters in the world today. If people needed a job done, and to make sure it was cleaned up, they came to him. That’s what he did. Death didn’t bother him. He was numb to the core. Watching the life drain out of someone didn’t cause him to lose sleep at night. It probably helped that the people he killed weren’t worth the air they breathed. Their deaths made the world a better place.
“I’m so sorry,” she said.
“Don’t worry about it. I don’t.” He winked at her and she smiled.
He loved that smile. Even though she hesitated around him, he couldn’t help but feel his heart race when she did look at him. It made him want to do so many different things to her, to have her naked beneath him as he explored her body, showing her how good it could be between them. He’d make her beg, then give her everything she wanted.
“What do you do, Evander?”
He understood her curiosity. “I deal in contracts.” Not a total lie. She just didn’t need to know they were contracts of death.
“What kind of contracts?” she asked.
“The secret kind.” He flipped the chicken. “Tell me about yourself.”
He was a master at evasion. With Callie, it was proving to be a little more difficult, because he found himself wanting to share more of himself with her. No woman had ever made him this fucking weak. He knew it made her a dangerous woman. She wasn’t his enemy, and he didn’t have to worry about her giving details away to his opposition. It did make her a target. She didn’t know it yet, but there was no way she was going back to her old life.
In his line of work, he had to always be one step ahead of the game, and he’d already spent too much time in one place. It was how men like him ended up dead, and he planned to live a long and happy life—with Callie.
“There’s not a whole lot to tell, to be honest. I work hard, and you’ve seen where I work, it’s not exactly the nicest place. A couple of the women that work there are okay. I know they strip and then some of them offer a bit more fun, but they’re trying to support their families, or doing what they can, I guess.”
“You’re talking about everyone else, Callie. Tell me about you,” he said.
****
The truth was, Callie wasn’t used to talking about herself. There was nothing to talk about. She worked hard, volunteered at animal shelters, helped where she could. Her life was the same routine, day in, day out. Working at the bar with the same old problems and men attempting to buy her attention for the night. It never worked.
Being attacked by Mitch had actually been new. Usually he sulked back home, without any problem. She didn’t know why he acted so differently. It did make her feel a little uncomfortable returning back to work. Mitch was always tryingto get her to go to those rooms, and she refused. She wrinkled her nose thinking about it.
“Stop thinking about him,” Evander said.
“How did you know?” she asked.
“I just did. I can imagine it’s going to be hard to forget something like that, but I promise you, he will never hurt you again.”
