Page 108 of The Hitman’s Final Job

An empty shell.

Beige walls. Functional furniture. A kitchen that has the bare minimum of equipment because I’m rarely here long enough to cook anything that requires more than a pan. No photographs. Not even a single one of me with Rowan.

There is not a thing that indicates a person lives here. There’s a tower of packed boxes in the corner of the living room, but I can’t pretend they contain the things the walls are missing.

Vaughn turns around and takes a good look at my space.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “It’s not⁠—”

“I like it,” Vaughn says.

I … have no words. The man who has herbs growing on the windowsill of his kitchen, photos of his son all over his house, is saying he likes my lifeless apartment?

He drags me closer and runs his hand though my hair. I’ve been too numb to think about getting it cut, but maybe I’ll keep it this long.

“I like it because it means you don’t have much to give up,” he says. “When you move to the farm, you can do anything you want. Change the pictures on the walls, add more pictures.” He crosses to the windowsill where I put the wooden bear I bought in Peak Treasures and picks it up. “If you want to buy a whole collection of these bears, you can. There’s a windowsill in every room.”

“Nah, Bearry knows he’ll only ever be an only child,” I say.

“Bearry?”

“That’s his name.”

He sets the bear down and walks toward me.

“My point is that I want you to make the farm your home. Our home. But now I really want to see your bedroom.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says, stopping in front of me, close enough that I smell his cologne and feel the warmth emanating from him. “Just to see how you’ve decorated it. Got to make sure we’re compatible in that department before you make the permanent move into my bedroom.”

“I think,” I say, “you’ll find we’re very compatible.”

The heat in his eyes almost makes my legs buckle.

“I want you to fuck me, Silas. Hard enough that your neighbors know about it and start wishing you’ll move out quickly.”

“Fuck, Vaughn.”

I grab his hand and pull him toward my bedroom, which isn’t much different from the rest of the apartment.

It contains a bed, and there’s a lamp on the nightstand. The space beneath the window is empty because I donated the chest of drawers to a women’s shelter. The rest will go there too after I move.

On the sill of the window that faces the street is the only other living thing in this apartment.

“Well, hello,” Vaughn says, approaching the window. “Who’s this?”

“That’s Cathy. She knows who you are,” I say. “I’ve mentioned you.”

“She looks a little prickly, so it might not be the best idea to have her witness what’s about to happen here.”

Laughing, I take Cathy to the kitchen, then remove my clothes on my way back to the bedroom. My apartment isn’t huge, but by the time I return, Vaughn is already naked and on my bed.

He’s stroking his cock lazily, his eyes roaming over my body. My cock had gone down to a semi, but watching this man on my bed, staring at me, his eyes dark with lust and lips parted like he needs a thirst-quenching drink and the only thing that will do is me? I’m full-on, painfully hard once again.

“If you’re going to fuck me, Silas, you’re going to need to come a little closer.”

“Fuck, I love when you’re like that.”