Page 16 of The Hitman's Prince

The corner of his mouth twitched, almost imperceptibly, and I knew he had the same thoughts. I knew we were one and the same. But quick as it was there, the movement was gone, his mask of stoicism back in place.

“I’d rather a life,” he said simply. “You have my word on that.”

“Vince.”

“It’s done,” he snapped, raising a hand to stop any other protest. No matter, they all died in the back of my throat the sight of his face anyway. His mouth flicking up into a growl, his eyes narrowed like a predator ready to strike. “You don’t get to decide the reward, Priest.”

“Jacob,” I rasped my name at him a second time, and the growl on his lips softened.

“Jacob,” he repeated.

Vince walked out of the church, the heels of his shoes clacking hard and loud against the marble floors. He stopped at the candle stand, snuffed out one of the flames he’d lit on his arrival, then walked out the doors without so much as a look behind him. It took some kind of man to get shot in the chest and not be constantly looking over his shoulder at every turn, but I imagined that was the kind of confidence—or arrogance—that came with growing up as an Angelini.

Twisting the signet ring around my pinky, I reached up and yanked the white collar loose, fighting the top two buttons of my shirt open until I couldcatch my breath. I sank down onto my knees, not bothering with the kneeler. The sharp bite of the marble against my already bruised knees was enough to ground me in the present moment, to remind me that none of this was forever.

From dust we came and to dust we’d return.

When the pain in my knees turned to numbness, I climbed back to my feet and traced Vince’s footsteps to the front of the church. Something was wrong with me. I’d known it for a long time. With an ache in my knees, I was beyond hard, the glory of pain an aphrodisiac, the cursed drug that had found me in a church.

I relit the candle Vince had extinguished and offered up a prayer I knew no higher power would hear, then I pocketed his hundred dollar bill, took my cock out of my pants, and made myself come all over the flame he’d said was meant for him.

Chapter 12

Vince

In the wake of my attempted murder, three things became immediately clear: Orion was gone, the priest saved my life, and Daren Moore was a fucking watchdog worth his weight in gold.

“You don’t need to stay here,” I told him, not for the first time.

“I don’t stay,” he said, throwing an annoyed look over his shoulder.

“Why do your boyfriends even care whether I live or die?” I asked, leaning back against the soft brown leather of my couch and propping my feet up on the table. “Seems life would be easier for them if I wasn’t around.”

“If you weren’t around, someone else would take your place.” He peered out the window, then closed the blinds. “At least you’re predictable.”

“That feels rude, Daren.”

“They know you,” he corrected, clearing his throat. “The doors and windows are all locked, there’s dinner on the counter in the kitchen, and the coffee is ready for tomorrow morning.”

“Quite the dutiful little house servant.”

Daren glared at me, and I waved him off.

“Thank you,” I said.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Daren took a step toward the door and paused, brow furrowed. “Do you want me to bring anyone with me?”

“Why would I want more company than you, Mr. Moore?”

His cheeks flushed. “I meant in case you wanted to watch like before.”

I chuckled, my chest warming at the offer and at the memory. “If I want to watch, I know where to find you and your band of merry men.”

“Alright.”

Daren gave me a jerky nod and let himself out of the house. As soon as the echo of the latch died off, the silence of the house became deafening. It had been a month since I was shot in the chest and a month since I’d seen Orion Delmar. He was on the phone with me as I bled out in front of the church, apologizing for reasons I’d had far too much time to try and dissect.

It made sense, I supposed, that he had a hand in the attempt on my life. He was my father’s man before mine, after all, and I’d put a bullet into the middle of my father’s head. It was a fair kind of retribution that someone take me out in return, but I thought Orion wasdifferent. He’d been so focused on me, on serving me, I’d thought…