Page 28 of Assassin: Part 1

I have a feeling she’s gone or gotten far enough away they won’t catch her, but we’ll find her. No one can run forever.

12

LANE

ONE YEAR LATER

Folders are slammed down on the table in front of me. My reaction is instinctive, and I do it without even glancing up. The knife flies toward him, and like every time before, he dodges swiftly, tossing his back at me. I barely move, the rush of air tingling my face.

Both knives embed into the wall with soft thunks, new holes joining the others.

I really need to get someone in to fix those. I make a mental note to call my maintenance guy.

No one knows about this location, and it’s the only place Mishka and I can meet without the fear of being discovered. If anyone finds out what I’m planning, I’ll be hunted and executed.

Well, they would attempt it anyway. And we don’t have a lot of time before we need to get the hell out of here to not arouse suspicion. Probably why I’m so testy. I hate to be interrupted. As we get closer and closer to the day we put the plan in motion, the testier I get.

Everyone is getting in my fucking way.

“Get out, fucker,” I command, looking one more time at the file in front of me. The one I’ve been studying since I arrived. Enough I can speak most of it from memory, but that won’t cut it. I never allow myself to make mistakes. I need to know everything in here, inside and out. No detail too small.

“Their files are complete. Read them and let me know. You want to get this shit done, we don’t have time for you to laze around.”

I lift my gaze to finally look at him. Tall, handsome, and a walking pain in the ass. He got his hazel eyes from his mother, but his face is entirely his father’s. Mishka Belov, heir to the Belov family territory in California and assumed dead by the general population, including those in his own territory and family. Other than his father and brother, who know good and well where he is.

That must piss him off every morning when he stares in the mirror.

He’s kept his dark hair military-style short, doing nothing to hide the scars covering his scalp, behind his ears, and down the rest of his body. I’m still not sure why Pasha and his band of torturers never touched his face, but it could be because of the nature of work they’ve had him doing.

The man buried himself in more pussy than I ever want to think about. Women fell at his feet without much thought. Probably why the man avoids any kind of physical relationship with anyone now that we’re on our own.

Even me.

When we started working together, I thought we would have a problem, but he told me he wanted nothing to do with me; I repulsed him on a sexual level, and if I ever touched him without permission, he’d kill me.

Sure, I had to remind him he’d never get close enough to do such a thing, but my respect for him started to build that day. Reluctantly, but enough.

I might be one of the most feared people on the planet, and I’ve done and seen things normal people would never be able to handle, but I’m big on consent.

Probably all the shit that was done to me as a child, but it made me who I am, and I’ve respected that boundary.

The only problem is, he started out as a steppingstone in my grand plan; now, he’s embedded himself into my operation. Into my life.

Dare I say it, we’ve almost become friends. Even the thought of that word makes me want to sneer.

I still don’t know why the hell I put up with him. I’ve had so many chances to kill him, and yet I refrain. One of these days, though, he’ll run out of use, and I’ll happily slit his throat.

Or just put a bullet in his head, depending on how badly he’s pissed me off by then.

Then I won’t have to worry about friendship ever again. Actually, I should think of him as a subordinate. Yes, that’s exactly what he is. I tell him what to do, and he does it. And speaking of …

“If you did your job right, I wouldn’t have to review them.” Tone bored, I go back to my file. I have twenty-four hours before I leave to find him and make him squeal like the pig he is.

Which reminds me I was going to look into some of those for this one. I make a mental note to check out all the local farms. Stealing a few pigs will handle most of the cleanup nicely.

“With how badly you almost fucked up that last job, I figured it was best you looked at them yourself. Need the right people to make sure that doesn’t happen, right?”

The glare I pin him with should have him cowering and protecting his balls, but he just holds my stare, unfazed.