Page 9 of Edge (Killers Inc. #2)

Edge: Will I see you tonight?

Mickey: Yeah. It might be a little later than usual. Kylo wants a pajama party. Don’t worry, though. Beau won’t let him stay up too late.

Edge: I’ll be here whenever you’re free.

Mickey: Have you finished training for the night?

Edge: Just leaving. Want to sneak me in so we can fool around ?

Mickey: Sounds amazing.

Edge : I got the flowers you sent. Field hasn’t stopped teasing me yet.

Mickey: Oh no. I didn’t consider that. Don’t worry. I won’t do it again. I just miss you.

Edge : No. I love them. Thank you. Field doesn’t need an excuse to be ridiculous. Don’t stop being you.

Edge : Also, I miss you too. See you tonight.

The two months they spent meticulously planning this operation had been too long for Henry’s blood.

He knew they had to wait until both the buyer and the seller were in the same place at the same time.

Plus, the boys had needed to practice to perfection.

But that was the thing. There was too much to the tee about everything.

Real life didn’t work that way. How had these guys lived this long without detection?

Surely, these plans didn’t always go the way they did in the virtual world.

If anything went wrong, they might have a war on their front lawn in a few hours, and then what?

Henry would be forced to kill a lot of people.

That was whatever. He didn’t care about that, but innocent people lived in this house. They could get hurt.

The guys set up in Beau’s personal sitting room. As they geared up, Henry paced. His temper frayed along with his nerves. “What is the deal with the LED masks? That seems kind of juvenile.”

The look Tracker gave him proved he had insulted him. Tracker held up one of the masks and turned it to face Henry. “Not only does it have night vision and let me see everything everyone else does, but the guys can also swap views and see through each other’s eyes.”

“Plus, they really freak people out when they see death coming.” Field laughed as he held up his own mask, which Henry had to admit was a bit more psychedelic compared to the rest.

Field set the mask aside. “You sure you don’t want to come with, Daddy? I could keep you warm.”

Henry rolled his eyes and went back to pacing. Tracker set up several monitors so they could watch from here, seeing everything the team saw. Admittedly, he kind of wanted to go with them, but not for the reasons Field suggested. The kid was relentless.

Henry turned and caught Edge eyeing Mickey in a way that made his blood boil. It wasn’t the first time, and Henry was just irritated enough to say something. He kept his voice low, though, so he wouldn’t embarrass Mickey.

“Don’t look at him like that. Even if Mickey wasn’t straight, he’d never touch murderous trash like this crew.”

Edge’s eyebrows shot up. “I’m not sure what to address first. Trash? This murderous trash is about to save everyone in this house’s ass. Straight? Wouldn’t touch me? Maybe you should tell Mickey that, since we’ve been fucking for months.”

The red haze that coated his vision scared even him. Edge had spoken every word so calmly, Henry couldn’t call him a liar. He looked Mickey’s way. Mickey laughed as he tried to pull the hood of Field’s jacket over his head—like they were friends… who saw each other all the time.

The distance disappeared between them. Henry had Mickey by the arm, dragging him into the next room before he knew what he would do. He slammed the door shut before pushing Mickey against the wall.

“What the hell, Henry?”

“Tell me it’s not true.”

A deep line appeared between Mickey’s eyebrows. “What’s not true?”

“That you’re fucking Edge.”

Mickey’s expression snapped closed. “Oh.”

Fuck. It was true. There was an invisible knife sticking in his heart and twisting. “You’re supposed to be straight. You have to be because, otherwise—” He motioned between them, incapable of finding the words for how he felt.

“I don’t—” Mickey looked every bit as confused as he should.

Henry tried again. “How can you not know? It’s always been.” He motioned between them again. Henry didn’t have words. He didn’t talk about feelings. But the fucking betrayal, he fucking felt that shit. “You’re supposed to be straight.”

“Oh.” Mickey looked shell-shocked. His entire demeanor shifted. The pity made him sick.

Henry couldn’t take it. He opened the door and shoved Mickey back into the sitting room with the same level of violence he had pulled him away.

Mickey stumbled from the force. Without a plan but to make the pain and humiliation stop, Henry grabbed Field and yanked him into the room, slamming the door again. They were eye to eye.

“Abuse me, Daddy.” He had pretty green eyes… just like Mickey. They danced with laughter, exactly the way Mickey’s always did.

“You really think you can handle me?” He shoved Field to his knees. “Prove it.”

“Yes, sir.”

Henry stared at the wall and ignored the humor in Field’s voice that obviously couldn’t be muted.

Even as he hardened on Field’s talented tongue, he felt nothing.

He saw nothing. Not even the expensive wallpaper right in front of him.

Years he had spent hopelessly loving Mickey rose to the surface to choke him.

He had been okay with Mickey being straight.

That was something he couldn’t change standing in their way.

That meant he never had to admit anything.

He could just feel what he felt without losing a thing.

Now, he knew the truth and he couldn’t deal.

Everything he wanted was gone. What did that leave him?

Edge couldn’t unsee Henry’s face or the way Mickey had looked as Henry shoved him out of that room.

The pains in his chest wouldn’t quit. He had to keep his head in the game.

Henry’s expression wouldn’t budge. He had seen that look before.

Edge couldn’t get warm. His blood was like ice.

A weight sat on his chest. He had been here before.

Edge sat alone on the rooftop and stared through his scope. By rote, he went through the motions. His body was on autopilot, saved by his training, while his mind left him. It had to go away. His sanity couldn’t survive this again. That jealous hatred. The ugly things it did. He couldn’t.

“Let’s get started.” Tracker’s voice cut through the mic. Edge watched Rain and Shadow move through the building like they were invisible. He watched them pause right before reaching their targets and settle themselves.

“Go now.”

Edge saw the blood spatter and heard the useless gunfire. Nothing penetrated the ghosts haunting him. Not even the beauty of the way they had devised to leave no trace of themselves.

“Building clear. Mission complete.”

Edge swept the area once more through his scope and broke down his weapon.

Another job. More money. It meant nothing.

This reason he gave himself to exist was just that—a meaningless way to extend a pointless life.

He had honestly thought he had found something with Mickey.

That was just like him, though. He should have known.

“Cleaning crew headed in for a quick check for trace evidence. The van is waiting. Get a move on, guys.”

Edge put his equipment away and slung his bag over his shoulders before quickly making his way back to the ground. Just as they planned it, the entire team reunited outside and climbed inside the waiting van. The smell of blood permeated the air, adding to the horrible memories trying to choke him.

“Are you okay?”

At Rain’s quietly spoken question, he looked around. Everyone stared at him.

Edge cleared his throat. “Yeah. Proof of payment, Tracker.”

“Yep. Payment complete. Funds came through before the last body even hit the floor. It seems Beau was happy with the service.”

Edge smiled, but he didn’t feel it. He didn’t feel anything but the cold fingers of the past wrapped around his throat, choking him.

“That’s great. Hopefully, this will lead to more jobs in the future.

This could be a lucrative client for us.

” Edge tried like hell to keep up pretenses.

His gaze met Field’s and his efforts died.

Those green eyes saw everything. They saw right through him.

Edge didn’t think he would last much longer.

Beau was all smiles. He couldn’t stop saying how impressed he was with the show.

He wasn’t wrong. As sickening as it had been to watch, the operation had also kept Mickey totally transfixed.

It had been so perfectly orchestrated—like watching art unfold.

Still, Mickey felt so fucking sick, he didn’t know where to look or what to do.

He felt the coldness of Henry’s stare. No texts came from Edge.

Everything felt wrong. Edge hadn’t even looked at him before he left.

He had no clue what had transpired between Henry and him to upend his life like this.

It wasn’t like he could ask Henry, and Edge wouldn’t respond to his texts.

“I’m headed to bed. Go, enjoy your nights. You two deserve to relax after all this looking over our shoulders lately.”

Henry slapped Beau’s shoulder at the order and strolled from the room with him.

Mickey seized his chance. He didn’t look back.

In a flash, he was out the door and backing out of the garage.

He couldn’t stay and face another conversation with Henry.

Everything felt wrong. When had Henry… what was he even thinking?

Henry had been so furious, but he hadn’t actually explained a thing.

All Mickey’s interpretations were suffocating him.

His fears were doing even more damage. Henry had kept saying Mickey was supposed to be straight.

Had he said that to Edge? Was that why he wouldn’t talk to Mickey?

Maybe this all circled back to the night he thought he had hurt Mickey. Fuck. He didn’t know.