Dangerous Lovers (130 page)

I changed quickly, only pausing for a second when I pulled off Charming’s shirt to replace it with mine, and then I left the room barefoot, padding down the hall to another bedroom, the master, and pushed open the partially closed door.

The room was almost all white too, but his bed was much bigger and the trim on his bedding was black. I didn’t bother to snoop around, I just tossed his shirt onto the bed and then hightailed it back downstairs so I could get outside.

Charming was standing by the back door, a new pair of jeans riding his hips and making his ass look like he should be an underwear model. Apparently it wasn’t just one pair of jeans he looked good in, but all jeans.

He turned when I stopped behind him. He was wearing a Lucky Brand T-shirt the same vibrant green as his eyes. A pair of aviator sunglasses were pushed up on his head and he was rocking a five o’clock shadow.

His eyes started at my toes and raked up, lingering on my legs and then settling on my face. “Where are your sunglasses?”

“I guess my butler didn’t grab them.” I sighed. “Good help is so hard to find.”

He rolled his eyes and pulled the aviators off his head and handed them over. “Here, you’re going to go blind in that sun.”

“What will you wear?”

“I have more than one pair of sunglasses.”

Well, of course he did.

“Thank you,” I said, taking the glasses. I barely knew how to act when he behaved so, so…
nice
. If I wasn’t careful, I would fool myself into thinking he was someone other than exactly who he was.

“I have to go out. I have stuff to do,” he said, watching me closely.

Well, there went my previous thoughts. “I have stuff to do” was code for “I’m going off to murder someone.” I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him.

“I don’t know when I’ll be back. Make yourself at home. I’ll leave the keys to the convertible on the counter.”

“You’d let me drive your car?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

I shrugged. He didn’t really seem like the kind of guy who liked to share.

“If you wreck it, you owe me a million dollars,” he said, winking.

I wasn’t charmed. I wasn’t.

“Don’t turn into a lobster while I’m gone.” He stepped away from the back door.

The reason he was leaving crashed over me all over again. Sharp pains cut through my middle. “As long as no one comes to murder me, I’ll be just fine,” I snapped coldly.

He stopped in his path but didn’t turn around. I saw him flex his hands at his sides. “I wouldn’t worry about that. All you’d have to do is open your mouth and anyone coming near you would run away as fast as they could.”

He started walking again, but I didn’t stand there to see if he looked back. I went out the back door, slamming it behind me. I wasn’t going to think about him. I wasn’t going to think about what he could be doing. I was going to take advantage of this beautiful place and not think at all. With any luck, the waves would carry away every single thought I had.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“
Kill - to deprive of life.”

Charming

The Target was a man. I didn’t get a huge folder of background information on him. Just his name, his whereabouts, and the fact that he was supposed to die. Frankly, I welcomed the fact that I didn’t have to learn anything about him. It seemed like such a waste of time to get to know someone who was practically already dead.

I didn’t even know why G.R. wanted him dead. It wasn’t for money or the job wouldn’t be an in-and-out type of thing. If he had an ability G.R. wanted for someone, he didn’t say. All I was supposed to do was complete the job and then call him so he could come collect.

Although, I really wouldn’t be surprised if this man had anything G.R. wanted. He was probably just some lame excuse to get me out of town and away from my real Target for a couple days.

I wasn’t even sure what he did with the bodies, with the souls of the Targets. Once we called and he came, our part was through and we left. I never asked him and he never volunteered the information. I never really cared. Until now.

Robert “Bobby” Salzman worked in the entertainment industry. In Hollywood, that could mean anything from blockbuster movies to adult films. Whatever he did paid him pretty well, judging from the size of his house and cherry-red Dodge Viper sitting in the driveway.

But he should have spent his money on better security. I pulled the motorcycle I “borrowed” into his driveway, leaving my helmet on but flipping up the visor so it only looked like I was too lazy to pull it off and not like I was trying to hide. I kept the leather jacket and gloves on and then unstrapped the pizza that I picked up from the local pizza joint on the way and carried it toward the door.

To any wandering eye, it would appear I was just the pizza guy delivering lunch. I made it to the front door and rang the bell. From what I knew, he lived alone, but I wasn’t sure if he was alone today, so ringing the bell would give me a chance to figure it out before I actually finished the job. It was never good when you realized there was a witness that you didn’t know about. Then your single Target became two. Yes, the rules were you killed no one but the Target, but when the job was compromised, exceptions were made.

He answered the door. I checked a housekeeper off my list of potential witnesses. He was wearing a bathing suit and no shirt. He smelled like tanning lotion and his skin was slick with the stuff. “What?” he demanded.

“Pizza delivery,” I said, holding up the pizza.

“I didn’t order a pizza.”

I read off the address—his address—on the order form attached to the pie.

“That’s me, but I didn’t order a pizza.”

“Well, I’m already here and no more orders to fill. Here,” I said, holding out the box, “on the house.”

He grunted. “Yeah, okay. Thanks, kid.”

I handed him the box and he went inside, shutting the door on my face. What? No tip? I stepped away from the door, but instead of getting on the bike, I zipped around the side of the house (super speed really comes in handy) and into the back yard. There were lots of foliage and tropical plants back here and the neighbor’s house wasn’t even visible, so it made the job even easier.

He was sitting in a patio chair with the open pizza box beside him. I stepped into his line of sight and he stiffened, standing up immediately. “What the hell are you doing, kid?”

He came over; his body language said he was ready for a fight. I kicked his legs out from under him and he fell back, hitting his head on the concrete. He lay there unmoving. I used my foot and pushed him into the pool.

If the body was found, it would appear that he slipped, hit his head, and fell into the pool and drowned.

When I was sure he was dead, I dialed G.R. “It’s done,” I said into the phone. Then I hung up.

He appeared two seconds later, stepping through the door/portal he created, and looked at the body floating in the pool.

“Job complete.”

I started to walk away, but then I stopped. I had to ask. Even if he didn’t answer. “Why this one?”

“That Viper in his driveway came from my lot. He hasn’t paid his lease in six months.”

Revenge, then. I nodded and walked away. I ignored the sick feeling in my stomach. When I stepped around the house and into the foliage, I heard the water in the pool ripple. Curious, I turned around, keeping myself concealed behind a large palm. I watched as the Reaper waded through the shallow end toward the body. He didn’t touch him but hovered his palm over the man’s back.

I watched, waiting to see what would happen. Just a few seconds ticked by and then the man’s spirit began to rise up out of his body. It was green. I thought G.R. was going to talk to him—maybe recruit another Escort.

He wasn’t looking for another Escort.

When the green spirit hovered over the Reaper’s head, he raised up his arms, looked up toward the sky, and then he proceeded to eat the spirit.

He literally opened his mouth as wide as it would go and began to suck the spirit into his mouth. But the spirit didn’t just go into his mouth; it seeped into his ears and up his nose. The spirit didn’t struggle; it didn’t try to get away. I wasn’t even sure if it knew what was going on.

I
wasn’t sure if I knew what was going on.

Was this what he did to all the people he killed—that the Escorts killed?

This was some disturbing shit.

When he was done chowing down on spirit, he waded out of the pool, leaving the body right where it floated. Then with a single wave of his hand, the portal opened and he stepped through, leaving the scene of the crime—of his meal—behind.

I didn’t loiter on the property. I zipped around the house and forced myself to jog to my bike like a guy who just delivered a pizza and who didn’t witness the Grim Reaper eating the green spirit of a man he’d just killed.

I put the bike back in the parking garage where I found it (but kept the helmet—since my hair and therefore DNA was now in it) and climbed on the closest bus. I rode that and got off after three stops. I got on another bus, rode that for two stops. Then I got off and walked three blocks, passing a city garbage truck on the sidewalk. I tossed the helmet into the back and it was immediately crushed into the already huge pile of trash. Another block passed and I ducked into a parking garage. I went up three flights of stairs and climbed onto another motorcycle—this one mine. It was completely different than the one I borrowed earlier. This one was a bike built for speed—something flashy that rich people drove. If you wanted to blend in around Beverly Hills, then you drove something expensive.

I pointed the bike toward my beach house. Toward Frankie. I pictured her sitting on the beach, her toes buried in the sand. I wondered if she would talk to me when I got home. I probably didn’t deserve it. I still hoped she would. Right then, I would have loved to hear her yell at me, to see her roll her eyes. Hell, I would’ve even listened to her insult me.

Anything to drown out my own thoughts.

Because right now I was thinking I didn’t like myself.

Right now I was feeling guilty. Guilty about what I just did. And I was also feeling slightly freaked out that I kind of fed my boss.

Why would he eat a spirit? There was perfectly good pizza right there if he was hungry.

Something told me pizza wouldn’t have conquered his kind of hunger.

It didn’t matter anyway. This whole thing started out as being about getting the best of him and doing the job. And now… now I wasn’t sure what anything was about.

The only thing I really knew for sure was that I wanted to see Frankie.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“
Sand - small, loose grains of worn or disintegrated rock.”

Frankie

I came to the conclusion that I would never get tired of staring at the ocean. It didn’t matter how long I sat here or how long I stared because the sights were forever changing. There was always a new wave to look at, a boat, a bird, or a person.

The ocean had a way of making a person feel small, but not in a bad way. In a way that made you feel like you were part of something bigger. It was humbling, but it was also inspiring.

Even though Charming left me here while he was off committing a crime, I couldn’t feel sorry about experiencing this. I still felt thankful that I hadn’t gone another day without seeing something outside the walls of Alaska.

The sun was beginning to sink behind the water when I felt his presence behind me. I didn’t have to look to know it was him. My body had a way of knowing when he was near. He approached slowly and I stiffened. He didn’t tell me where he was going today or what he was doing, but I knew.

I hated it.

“There enough sand here for the both of us?” he asked, standing just slightly behind me.

The insecurity in his voice had me patting the empty space beside me.

“You’ve been down here all day, haven’t you?”

I glanced over. He was still wearing those jeans, but that was all. No shirt and no shoes. He stretched his legs out in front of him and propped himself up with the heel of each hand just slightly behind his back. I wondered if he was doing it on purpose, displaying his perfectly cut abs just to throw me off. It didn’t matter because it wasn’t going to work.

“I sat on the deck for a while,” I answered. “But yeah, mostly I was down here all day.”

“I knew you’d like it.”

“I do.”

We watched the sun slip lower and lower until it completely disappeared behind the endless sea. The breeze off the ocean turned cooler and the shoreline grew quiet except for the crashing of the waves against the sand.

“Rough day?” I asked him.

“I’ve had better.”