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Chapter Four
X
I’d followed her home.
I had an uncanny knack of not being noticed, but twice today this woman had seemed to sense my presence. I didn’t think I’d made any kind of noticeable noise, perhaps the faintest of scuffs back at the bar, but nothing major considering the general hum of the town and music and voices from the bar. I certainly hadn’t made any kind of noise here when she’d moved to pull down the window blinds.
Sometimes people came along who were just more perceptive than others. I couldn’t pretend it didn’t make this fierce young woman with the angry dark eyes and tattoos even more interesting, but I wouldn’t let it sway me. I had a job to do, and it was only on the rarest of occasions that I wasn’t able to complete my assignment.
My mind tried to pull me toward the previous fuck-up, but I pushed the thoughts away, not wanting to think about it.
Failing on this one would get me killed.
I remained, hidden in the bushes, watching the house as she moved around it, locking doors and windows before switching off the lights and plunging the rooms into darkness. I wondered how she felt about the dark. Was it something she embraced, as I did, as something to be hidden within and go unnoticed, or did it leave her unnerved, wondering what might be hidden within it shadowy folds?
The locked windows and doors didn’t trouble me. A simple cutter was enough to take a ring of glass out of a window or door, and allow me to slip my hand through and either flick a catch or relieve the lock of a key. People were always leaving keys sticking out of locks of doors and windows on the inside of their homes. Why they thought something as fragile as a piece of glass was enough to keep them safe, I had no idea.
I needed to wait until I could be certain they were both asleep. The average person fell asleep within twenty minutes, but this young woman was not of the average mentality. She had plenty of worries to keep her awake at night, even though we were now in the early hours of the morning. Because of this, I’d give her a little extra time. I wanted to make sure she was in a deep sleep before I entered the property. This whole thing needed to be quick and quiet, and I couldn’t have her waking up and fighting back.
I didn’t mind waiting. I’d sat in one place for more than a day before, waiting for a mark to return. I was a patient person, and I didn’t have anywhere else I needed to be.
During these periods of waiting, I found myself going into a kind of meditation. I was able to zone out and draw myself inward, while also being hyperaware of my surroundings. These were moments of contemplation, often about the position I’d found myself in. I’d never thought at the age of twenty-eight, I’d be living a nomadic lifestyle as a hired gun.
When I’d been younger, I’d gone into law enforcement. I’d been filled with a righteous anger and had told myself that was what had fueled my decisions, but, looking back, I thought I used the gun and badge as a disguise, a mask over who I really was. It was my way of being able to walk around in broad daylight without anyone being suspicious of who or what I was. Turned out, however, having a gun placed in my hand hadn’t been a good thing. I enjoyed killing, and I was good at it. I took out a couple of bad guys on a number of occasions—one of whom had been unarmed—and the next thing I knew I was pulled up on suspension. But I couldn’t seem to stop myself. I’d killed again—a drug runner this time, a guy using young girls to move packets of heroin inside their bodies. The packets regularly sprung leaks, killing the girls, but this guy seemed to get away with everything. So I’d shot him, point blank in the head, and had taken deep satisfaction in doing so.
Unfortunately, my Sergeant hadn’t agreed, and, because of my previous suspension, I’d found myself off the force. Even this hadn’t bothered me. By that point I’d pretty much discovered I wasn’t built for law enforcement. But what my time on the force did was create some excellent contacts. My love of killing, and my cold brutality about the act, had gotten me noticed by the right—or perhaps wrong, depending on your point of view—people, and, when I’d found myself out of a job, they offered me a substantial amount of cash to continue doing what I loved. I wasn’t stupid. I took my new job gladly.
That was five years ago now, and I hadn’t looked back. I’d had to be more careful about keeping my identity under wraps; my full name, Xavier Creed, wasn’t known by anyone. Instead, I was known as only a solitary letter.
X.
People hired me when they wanted dangerous people dead. I wouldn’t kill just because someone had pissed someone else off. A cheating wife, for example, would be way off limits. But the people I knew had normally done crimes far more heinous than a little adultery.
Take this girl, for example. She might have been beautiful, young, and most definitely female, but that didn’t make her innocent. She was a killer, too, just like me. Her being a woman made me uneasy, though. I’d only ever been paid to take out men before, and even though I’d been told what she’d done, I couldn’t shake the feeling that deep down a part of me didn’t want to go through with it.
Then I reminded myself of her crimes, and remembered that having tits and a pussy shouldn’t automatically make someone the weaker sex.
Her sister, however, that girl was innocent, or at least was for the moment. I didn’t know how she’d grown up in the family she had and remained that way, but that was the truth of it. I suspected the older girl had gone some way to protect her, and by killing her, I would have removed that protection, but I wasn’t going to start thinking about people’s futures. They had nothing to do with me.
Movement across the other side of the yard instantly pulled me from my thoughts. I stiffened, my ears straining as I peered into the darkness. The sound had been too big and stealthy to belong to an animal. An urban fox didn’t worry about the noise it made while rustling through the trash. This had had the definite feel of something that had made an unwanted sound and was now frozen, waiting to check it hadn’t been heard.
As I sat, watching, two figures emerged from the bushes, and, crouching low, ran to the back door of the house.
What the hell?
I definitely hadn’t expected anyone else to be around.
I watched the two men work at something at the back door, and tried to decide.
What would be my next move?
