Page 30 of The Hitman's Prince

“Are you meant to whip me again?”

“Did you want me to?” He raised a brow in challenge.

I folded my hands together in my lap, hoping my joined fingers covered the proof of how much I did, in fact, want him to whip me again.

“I want you to tell me why you’re here,” I said instead.

“I’m meant to bring you home with me.”

“Excuse me?” The hair on the back of my neck prickled, and I swallowed down as much fear as I could manage.

“I was clear,” he said simply.

“I can’t just leave the church.”

Orion reached into his coat and pulled out a gun, pointing it at me with such a casual accuracy, I knew if he fired, he wouldn’t miss.

“I’m meant to bring you back,” he repeated, “and I will not fail Vince a second time.”

“When was the first?”

He slid his finger ontothe trigger.

“I can’t just leave the church,” I said again, holding my hands up in surrender.

It wasn’t that I couldn’t leave because I was supposed to be a priest and this was supposed to be my job, it was if I left, there was a very real possibility I’d end up dead. Though staring down the barrel of Orion’s gun, that was a possibility even if I stayed.

“When you come back here is between you and him,” Orion said, “but you are coming with me now.”

He stood up, and so did I.

“Alright, Orion.” I headed down the aisle to the small door that led into my office and deeper still into my apartment. He trailed behind me lazily, like my concession had been expected all along. It probably was. I’d made my feelings toward Vince clear while Orion had bandaged my back, and for as much as Vince seemed to enjoy punishing the other man, he didn’t seem the type to have sent him on a fool’s errand. I packed an overnight bag, and when I turned back to Orion, he had his gun re-holstered and a curious look on his face.

“What?”

“Get your little box of goodies, Father.”

“I told you it’s just Jacob.”

“Get your little box of goodies, Jacob,” he said.

Squatting down beside the bed, I pulled out the small box that held far more than just a leather cat-o-nine tails. I tried to use my body to shield him from seeing all the contents of the box, the various passports, the bands of cash, the gun. I made a show of taking out the whip andtwo more like it, but crueler. I had some insertable toys and a paddle, and I shoved all of it into my backpack before kicking the box back under the bed.

“You ready?” he asked.

I readjusted the bag on my shoulder and headed into the office, making sure my small bedroom was locked before leaving. “I’m ready.”

He closed the door to my office and I locked it as well, then I followed him down the aisle toward the front of the church. Outside, there was a sleek black BMW parked illegally at the bottom of the stairs. Orion pulled the keys out of his pocket and remote-started it.

The interior of the car was plush and warm, soft black leather and dim lights when Orion hit the ignition switch. I leaned against the headrest and closed my eyes, breathing in the smell of leather and cologne, his and Vince’s mixed together in the air.

“You look like you’re going to be sick,” Orion said, pulling away from the curb.

I shook my head.

“He’s a good man.”

“I know,” I snapped, spinning my signet ring around my pinky finger and embedding the design into the pad of my thumb.