Page 47 of Dual Destruction

I answered him with a rough laugh. “It’s not that simple.”

My job wasn’t something I could walk away from. There was no two weeks’ notice. I couldn’t call Sharp and tell him, “No thanks. I don’t want to do this job because I think I might be falling in love with my mark.”

Shit.

Shittttttt.

“If I’ve learned anything, it’s that you can’t live your life waiting for the next loss,” Rich said.

“I can’t be with him.”

“Why?”

“Rich…” I closed my eyes and sighed. My phone vibrated against my ear, another burst pattern to remind me I hadn’t answered Sharp’s message yet.

“I know,” he said, so I didn’t have to. “You can’t tell me. But you have to realize we all know what you do, Foster.”

“What?” I opened my eyes and blinked the parts of my gun into focus, counting them and overlaying them back together in my head.

“It’s fine,” he said, voice calm and gentle, and oddly reassuring. “I don’t think there’s many jobs that send attempted murder victims onto your porch, Foster. But we don’t need to talk about it. We all just want you to stay safe.”

“Rich,” I groaned.

“And we want you to be happy. Ronan, most of all.”

“Not you?” I smirked.

“I think you prefer misery,” he answered with a laugh.

“It seems like it.”

My phone buzzed again.

“I have to go,” I said. “Work thing.”

“Safe and happy,” Rich repeated. “Don’t be a stranger.”

The call disconnected and I rolled the phone around in my palm a few times, waiting for the screen to go blank from the call. I swiped open the messaging app, finding three from Sharp.

Sharp: We need to talk.

Sharp: You need to answer.

Sharp: Open your front door.

Shit.

I dropped my phone onto the table and went to the front door, unnervingly unarmed because my Ruger was with Sage and my unsecured guns were in pieces on the table. Everything else was in the safe and the deadliest man I knew was on my front porch. When I got to the front door, I flipped the lock open and twisted the knob, then got back to the dining room as quickly as I could.

“Do I need to take my shoes off?” Sharp asked from my entryway.

“No.”

I sat down and set to putting my gun back together. Sharp took Sage’s seat, or rather…Sharp took the seat at the other end of the table, placing his own piece in front of him, barrel conveniently pointed toward me. I didn’t look at it or him beyond a cursory glance, quickly shifting my focus back to keeping my hands busy.

“What have you done?” Sharp finally asked.

I dragged my tongue across the front of my teeth and pieced Sage’s gun back together. I cleared my throat and looked up at him.