She had the same hair color as me. And wore it the same length. So it stays.
It will always stay.
Because she’s the reason I am what I am.
And she’s the reason there are three fewer worthless souls on this planet tonight.
After taking one stack of bills out, I zip up the duffel and hold the handle at my side.
With silent steps, I approach the door and quickly pull it open.
The bouncer is still there, but he’s moved a few steps up the hallway so his back is no longer directly in front of the door—probably hoping to avoid a stray bullet.
His hands are open and empty at his sides, a smart way to show me he’s not a threat.
He gives me a wary look before glancing past me into the room.
He works down a swallow before speaking. “Looks like they had some sort of argument.”
“Seems so.” I nod. “Probably time for a new coat of paint.”
I toss the stack of bills, and he catches it against his chest.
Then I walk past him. Back down the hall, through the still rowdy bar, and back out the front door.
No one pays attention to the duffel bag low at my side. No one pays attention to the single dude walking out of the bar. No one follows me.
When I’ve passed the first row of vehicles, I push all of the lingering air out of my lungs, dispelling the taste of being in a small room with a discharged firearm. Then I fill my chest with fresh air.
I’m not desensitized to death.
I know each life is important.
But I also know it’s important to end some of them.
I’m not special. I’m just a man. But I’m a man with the means and the will to do what has to be done.
I’m aware the argument could be made that, based on my headcount, I also deserve to die. And I’m not hypocritical enough to argue against that justification. But until I find an opponent capable of ending my life before I can steal theirs, I’m not going to worry about it.
Ahead of me, a figure steps away from the shadows at the base of the streetlamp.
Her hair is pulled up into a messy knot on the top of her head, but even in the dull light, I recognize the violent red color.
She’s dressed to work in black cargo pants and a tight black tank top. And I know if I’d seen her twenty minutes ago, she’d have been sporting several weapons as well.
“That was quick.” Karmine smirks, stopping on the far side of my pickup.
“No comment,” I reply, moving to the tailgate.
She rests her elbows on the raised side of the bed as I lower the tailgate and retrace the steps to put my weapons back in their places.
She raises her brow at my silenced Glock, but she already answered her curiosity.
I wanted to be quick.
Before closing the tailgate, I drop the duffel into the truck bed and shove it so it slides to a stop in front of Karmine.
Moving so I’m opposite her, I lean against my truck the same way. Just two friends chatting in the parking lot after a night at the bar.
But there are three dead bodies inside the bar, so we shouldn’t chat long.
“There’s something…” She taps a blood-red nail against my truck, and it’s like I can see her thinking. “Who’s the girl?”
I blink once. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “How are you such a bad liar?”
I clench my jaw, then huff out my exhale. “She’s my neighbor.”
Karmine’s eyes widen. My answer catches her off guard.
The reaction makes my mouth pull into a half smile. “Nice to see I can still surprise you.”
We met a decade ago. I was ten years into my quest for murderous vengeance, and she was only months into her journey of finding what to do with herself after surviving.
We were both at the same place for the same reason. It was personal for her. Every time is. Just like every kill is for me.
It’s all so fucking personal.
The next time I ran into Karmine at a hit, she had four other women with her. And they were out for blood. So I introduced them to my arms dealer.
And the third time I saw her, she was running a crew fifteen deep. All bad-as-hell women who’d clawed their way to freedom. So when Karmine asked if I’d like to share intel and take on some hits for her, I said yes.
I’d been on my own for so long that it was nice to have someone else do the hunting. Nice to not have to do every damn step on my own. Only they did more than I ever could. They gave the women they found safety. They gave them options.
I was always so focused on destruction, knew I was only ever good for killing.
Karmine’s army is so much more.
And I’m happy to be a weapon for them to wield.
“Can’t say I was expecting the girl next door.” My friend breaks her stunned silence.
“It’s not like that,” I admit, sure she’s jumping to all sorts of wrong conclusions.
“Right.” She drags the word out.
“It’s not. I don’t even talk to her.”
Karmine narrows her eyes, and I press my lips together.
“You were whispering when I called you earlier…” I watch uncomfortably as she puts it together. “Hans, tell me you weren’t in her house.”
“Look,” I start, and I already know I’m gonna sound like a fucking creep. “I’m not doing it to perv on her or anything. I’m just making sure she’s safe.”
“By skulking through her house in the middle of the day? While she’s there?”
“When you say it like that.”
Karmine snorts. “Man, I know you’re not like these assholes.” She gestures her hand toward the bar. “But maybe you should try to spend some more time with normal people. Because you can’t be doing that. You’re good, but she’s gonna catch you. And that’ll go down real bad.”
“I don’t—She doesn’t…” I scrub a hand down my face. “She wasn’t there before. I fell asleep…”
Karmine drowns out my words with her full-body laugh.
After several long seconds, she finally takes a breath, and I level her with a bored look. “You done?”
She brushes a tear away from her eye. “Christ, Hans. You can’t just Goldilocks this girl and expect a happily ever after.”
“Goldi—” I shake my head. “I might be fucked in the head, but I’m not delusional. I know that’s not where my story goes.”
“What? Happiness?” The sad look she gives me makes my stomach hurt.
She knows my past just like I know hers. She knows what weighs on my shoulders. She knows I was too late.
Karmine’s expression softens. “You’ve more than leveled the scales of justice. Shit, you’ve ended enough bad guys to single-handedly populate one of the circles of hell.”
“And that means I win a white picket fence?”
She sighs, having no patience for my self-pity. “It means you can think about, I dunno, maybe not being such a fucking loser. Retire. Get a life. Try talking to the girl you’re stalking. Ask her out.”