“Counterproductive,” he chuckled. His fingers tapped on the wheel, a tiny song with no rhythm. “Fine. You want me to talk? Then let me tell you a little story that I think you'll enjoy.”
Kite started smiling, but it didn't come through his voice. I didn't care. I was eager to fill my head with anything he would offer. “You're the pro, tell me what I need to know.”
“You need to know what can go wrong.” His head moved back, skull grinding into the cushion like he was getting comfortable. “You're a newbie, mistakes are common.”
My ears strained until they rang. I hung on his every word.
“I was lucky,” he said softly. “I didn't have a real mistake until my second year. It was our fifth contract, a guy named Culver. Real strong, not that you'd know by looking at him. He wore baggy clothes all the damn time. I don't know where he got all his muscle.”
My arm hairs were prickling. “How old were you?”
Kite blinked, the spell broken when he stared at me. The stern, empty man had melted as he recounted the past. It was only for a second, but I saw it. “This was about three years ago. Guess I was twenty-two.”
A stack of bricks filled my throat. My age. He'd already killed five people by then?
“Anyway,” he went on. “Jacob took point, made sure no one was watching. We were near the wharf, I figured I could slip in, get him with some wire from behind. Done.”
If I closed my eyes, I could have pictured it better.
I didn't dare try.
Kite's lips softened. He wasn't angry or irritated... just subdued. “I was quiet as anything, even without the rough waves hiding my steps that night. Culver was drunk. You'd think that would have helped, but alcohol makes some people stupid and others—well.” There, a real smile. “He was a beast. I dug the wire into his throat, threw myself back, but he didn't go down. Guy fought me, got his nails on my arms and dug in deep. Made me bleed before he finally choked.”
My lungs could have exploded. Breathing out loudly, I shook my head. “Wait. I thought you were telling me about a hit that went wrong. You still killed him, right?”
“That's why I said you don't know anything.” Kite pulled around a street, the car rolling into the parking lot of my complex. He cut the engine, then twisted to face me.
In the low lights, Kite was a mixture of gentle breathing and wild, dangerous eyes. His arm was over the back of his seat. I could see every muscle fiber flexing.
I grabbed my knees tighter and forced myself to remain still.
He whispered, “Culver scratched me.” Lifting his palm between us, Kite flexed his fingers into claws. “Skin cells under the nails. It'd be enough to lead the authorities back to me. Normally, we can leave a body at a scene and it won't matter. Not this time.”
“What did you do?” I hushed.
His hand became a fist. He left it fall into his lap. “Jacob helped me wrap the body, then we loaded it into the car. What would you do with a corpse?”
Shivering, I kept my voice steady. “I don't know. Burn it?”
His chuckle was wicked. “Too much left behind to identify. We had to erase every bit of that body. Any other guesses?”
I shook my head, a barely noticeable move. Of course, Kite saw it. I suspected he saw everything.
“Big metal barrel.” His eyebrows hooded his face. “Enough acid to cover everything. Took almost a week. We watched the news, praying no one had seen our car or us. Like always, they never did.” Hesitating, Kite stared at me in our private bubble and frowned. “Or they never did... until you.”
Bile flooded my mouth. Is this story a warning? Is he threatening me, letting me know he could make me disappear? It was a horrific thought.
Shrugging, Kite leaned back and took out his keys. “I'm sure that was disturbing, but you needed to hear the reality. We fuck up and it's ugly. Melting a body and—”
“What happened next?” I asked.
He paused, eyes shadowed and suspicious. “Next?”
“The remains, where did you put them?” Call me twisted, I just needed to know what had happened to Culver. The idea they had a barrel of corpse juice hanging around was too much.
Kite unlocked the doors; the noise made me jump. “You shouldn't want to know the grizzly details.”
If we left that car, he would never answer me.
“Please,” I said, grabbing for his elbow. His skin was smooth, and too warm for a cold monster. His eyes opened a fraction wider, and I pulled away nervously.
“You really want to know?” he asked.
I considered my answer. “I think I have to.”
Kite closed his eyes. His cool mask had returned. “The ocean. We poured him out into the ocean.” He opened the door and let the brisk air inside the car.
Stepping from the car, I begged my legs to stop wobbling.
The parking lot was cracked, the staircase up to my door no better. I'd warned him, my complex was essentially a revamped motel.