Page 14 of Stalk (Assassin’s Kiss Duet #1)

Ren

T wo blocks away from the restaurant where I left Mattia, my body can’t stand the adrenaline any more. For the past two hours, I’ve been on high alert—and now that I’m alone, despite the busy streets buzzing alongside me—I’ve had all that I can take.

At the first opportunity I see, I duck into a dark alleyway.

Thankfully, no one is around. It’s only me, the stench of a few trash cans nearby, and brick buildings.

My back slams against the rough wall halfway down the alley, and before I know it, I’m sitting on the asphalt with my head in my hands.

Before I can form a cohesive thought, I taste the margarita I practically just chugged at the back of my throat.

With no time to act, I end up vomiting all over my favorite pair of work shoes.

Can this night get any fucking worse?

Though I feel a little better now that I’ve puked, I reek.

Sitting down near my feet just won’t cut it anymore.

After a few weak attempts, I manage to stand up and lean against the brick at my back.

As much as I’d love to go straight to Catherine and get that whole ordeal out of the way, I can’t move quite yet.

My head feels thick and swollen, like I’ve been hit, but I know it’s just from all the stress from tonight.

I don’t know why I do it, but I pull out the card Mattia gave me from my front pocket and stare down at the numbers printed in a small font. That’s all there is to it. I guess that’s for the best, given his— our— line of work, but it still looks odd. Like something a secret agent would have.

Despite my exhaustion and fatigue, the same questions I’ve had all evening rise to the surface, further confusing me and waking me back up and allotting me just enough energy to move. Slowly, I walk back the way I came until I’m back with the rest of the general population.

It’s only a few blocks to the Burdick House from here.

I know that if I put off telling Catherine everything that happened tonight (though I plan to lie and tell her I carried out the kill instead of Mattia) then there will be hell to pay tomorrow morning during our normal meeting—and I seriously do not want that on top of everything else.

People pass me on the sidewalk, and I pay them no mind. I’m usually the one to cut off people when I’m walking, always full of anxious energy, always going until I can’t possibly go anymore, but not tonight. Tonight, people can pass me. They can also kiss my ass as they do.

I’m a mix of emotions. Confused, obviously.

Angry that Mattia had to come in and make my life even more complicated and stressful than it already was.

Scared, because I have no fucking clue how Catherine is about to react to everything.

Paranoid, because despite Mattia’s words, what if he does end up following me or killing me in my sleep?

Or, worse, torturing me for information…

Add all those elements in with the fact that Mattia is infuriatingly, drop-dead, like a prince out of a goddamn fairytale gorgeous, and I’m more wrecked than I’ve been in a long time, to say the least.

Two assassins from different companies assigned the same target. I’ve never heard of anything like that happening. Ever. If it has happened, it’s definitely not something that’s talked about. Probably for a good reason, too.

Unless it was done on purpose? But that doesn’t make any sense, either.

My fingertips come up to my temples and I massage the smallest fraction of my stress away. When I look up, I’m right outside the Burdick House. Once lost in my thoughts, I must have picked up my pace, because I feel like I teleported here.

Fuck. I’m not ready for this. Yeah, well you’ll never be ready for this.

I set myself on autopilot as much as I can. I try not to think. Just do. I walk to the back entrance, take my nasty shoes off and leave them by the door, scan the palm of my hand on the hidden panel that rests behind a perfectly placed tree, then go in.

No going back now.

After the door closes and automatically locks behind me, I blink several times as my eyes adjust. Somehow, it’s darker in this small closet-like room than it is outside, with only a dim lamp resting on a side table to show me my surroundings.

I take the few steps it takes to stand in front of the only other door.

Beside the frame on the right side is a buzzer.

For those of us who don’t live in the Burdick House, we have to buzz up to Catherine.

Everyone else has some way of unlocking the door, but I’m not sure what that is. I’ve never cared enough to find out.

I push the button to call up to Catherine. In seconds, her shrill voice comes from the small speaker. It’s loud enough to make me jump. Then again, I think anything would make me shake in my boots tonight. I’m more sensitive than usual. Naturally.

“Name?” Catherine barks.

“R. Winter,” I say.

A pause. “Why are you here? We’re set to meet in the morning.”

I swallow down the knot in my throat. “I ran into a… complication this evening that I would like to discuss with you.”

She doesn’t bother wasting any energy with a response. Instead, the door slides open. I don’t know why I’m surprised to find it’s an elevator. I guess it’s been a long time since I’ve had to come in this way.

Once I’m inside the elevator and the door is closed, I press the button to go up (the only button option available) and then place a palm on my chest, over my racing heartbeat.

In seconds, the elevator dings softly and I walk into the common area for the assassins who live here.

It’s not that late, so a few employees are lounging.

One person reads a book while a small group sits together on a wide sectional couch, watching a movie I don’t recognize.

It’s comfortable enough. An outsider might even compare it to their own home.

Still, you couldn’t fucking pay me to live here. To be in such close vicinity to Catherine.

As if she can smell my disapproval (though I know it’s just because she was alerted the second I hopped off the elevator), she appears.

We lock eyes from across the room, then she motions for me to follow her.

She’s still dressed as though she’s working, so at least I didn’t disturb her during her personal hours.

I don’t know if she even takes the time to have those, though.

I also can’t imagine Catherine Burdick showing up to meet me in her pajamas, either. Maybe she changed really quickly?—

I’m spiraling. I recognize how my mind is distracting myself away from reality.

I try my very best to snap out of it as I follow Catherine out of the living area, down an elongated hallway and down a set of stairs.

This time, we enter through her personal living quarters.

Only a few lights are on, and I don’t get a good look at the place.

Instead, I follow behind her blindly so as not to get distracted. Again.

Nothing can ease my nerves now. As soon as we are seated in her office, I feel like I could hurl again. I know she can sense my panic. She can smell the fear radiating out of my pores. I try to be strong, to look her in the eye, but I can’t. Instead, I stare at a coaster on her desk.

“Are you going to sit there and waste my time all night, or do you have something to tell me? Contrary to what you may think, I have things to do and I’d like to go to sleep at some point this evening.” Catherine’s voice is laced with venom, and I immediately cringe.

“S-sorry. I—yes. I do need to talk with you, I’m just still processing.” I take a pause and force air into my lungs. Catherine sighs impatiently, so I hurry to move on. “I encountered another assassin tonight. He cornered me as soon as I got to my target’s apartment.”

I force myself to make eye contact. Catherine’s eyebrows raise and her lips turn down in a frown, making her seem older.

She looks tired. Catherine inhales sharply and crosses her arms while she stares me down.

There’s something else written on her face.

An emotion she’s trying to hide, I think…

but I can’t figure out what it is. Her eyes are wider than normal, and the way she looks at me feels foreign.

It’s more unsettling than I’ve ever seen, and I don’t know why.

“And?”

“And… he surprised me from behind. Choked me and led me into the kitchen and then assaulted me with questions.” Fuck.

I shouldn’t have made myself seem so weak.

She trained me better than that, and disappointment is written all over her face.

“I didn’t give him any solid answers. He made it apparent that he was from another company… he had to be from some other country.”

“Well, this is just wonderful news,” Catherine remarks sarcastically.

“But I completed the assignment?—”

She holds up a hand and I snap my mouth closed. “Did he leave, or did he help you with the assignment? Or, did he stay and watch?”

I gulp and pray she doesn’t notice. “He—helped,” I say. It’s not a total lie, but it’s definitely a far cry from the truth.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Ren!” she yells, slamming a clenched fist on her desk.

My body curls in on itself, my back bending and shoulders drooping forward like a young child being berated. “I know! I know . I didn’t know what to do?—”

“You didn’t know what to do? ” Catherine asks mockingly. “You always, always take out a third party. I don’t care if they’re in the same line of work or not! Have you learned nothing from me?”

My body shakes and my fingertips go numb. I want out. I need to get out of here.

“I’m sorry, Catherine,” I whisper.

Her nostrils flare. I bite down harshly on my tongue until I can taste copper and pray my silence will make matters better and not worse this time.

“What happened after?”

“After?”

She rolls her eyes at me. “After you carried out the assignment.”

“Oh. Uh. We cleaned up and left. That’s it.”