I wanted to reach out, to pull him back into the shower and simply pretend. That wasn't going to do us any good. Who could this assassin be? The way he acted was as if this wasn't a normal situation.
He had left some things in the room, his room, including shoes, placing them next to his clothes in the closet. As if we were sharing a life. I pulled one of his shirts to my nose, drinking in his scent. So masculine. So rugged. However, we weren't playing house.
At least I could don a pair of jeans and a normal shirt, including tennis shoes. I had to smile as I gazed into the mirror. He'd known my size. A reflection caught my eye, an object on the nightstand. I glanced toward the window before picking it up. His phone and his watch. He'd removed both in order to get into the shower.
Trust. That didn't come easily for either of us. I fingered the plastic case, chewing on my lip before deciding. Then I shoved it into my pocket. At least I had options.
I took several deep breaths as I left the room. The last thing I needed was to be caught in a lie.
I was pleasantly surprised to hear what sounded like rock music for a change. Maybe his mood wouldn't be so sullen. I found him in the kitchen, his fingers flying over a laptop. When I came in, he closed the lid, smiling as if this was simply a date.
"You look wonderful," he said in a husky tone.
"Much more my style." What was he looking at that he didn't want me to see?
"We can make some dinner or have some food brought in. Whatever you'd prefer."
"Making something is fine."
He lifted his gaze, shifting his gun from his waistband and pushing me against the wall. We could both hear the sound of footsteps. He held his finger over his lips and shook his head. "I'll be right back. Stay here."
The weapon firmly planted in both hands, he stalked out of the room.
I held my arms, holding my breath until I heard his growling voice.
"Jesus Christ, Grinder. You could have given me a heart attack."
"Sorry, boss. The boys let me in. I tried to call."
"And I haven't been looking at my phone. What are you doing here?" Michael demanded.
"Found Saltori."
As their voices became more hushed, I eyed the computer. I had to know. No more secrets. What was on the screen was a simple google page. There wasn't enough time to look at the history. Damn it! As I heard their footsteps coming in this direction, I tried to snap the lid shut quietly. A single paper flew out.
Snagging it, I folded and then shoved it into my jeans pocket. I'd figure out a way to get it back into the computer later.
"I'm sorry, but I have to go out. There are going to be three soldiers watching the house. Can I trust you?" Michael asked.
I looked from one man to the other then back to Michael. "I'm not going anywhere." Whatever he was about to do had changed his mood entirely. There was murder in his eyes.
He nodded and grabbed the laptop, handing it to Grinder. "Lock this up while I get a few things."
"Will do, boss."
After the men left, I waited until I heard the roar of an engine before I tugged the paper from my pocket. The photocopy wasn't the best in quality but as I pulled it under the light, my legs gave out from under me. As I slid down the wall, I couldn't stop shaking.
This couldn't be happening. No. No! I closed my eyes, shaking uncontrollably for a full minute before daring to look at the picture again. I could be wrong, but what if I wasn't? What if...
Anger rushed through me, the same kind of murderous rage that I'd seen in Michael's eyes. No one was going to play me for a fool. No one. Even with shaking fingers, I managed to pull out his phone.
And punch in his code.
Then I stood slowly, a quiet calm washing through me.
And I waited.
Until the call was answered. Time to solve the riddle. Michael
"You sure you want to do this, boss?" Grinder asked.
I heard the glitch in his voice. I knew what was at stake if I snuffed out Saltori's life. I wasn't certain I cared any longer. "Necessary. What about the picture I sent you?"
"I got some feelers out. Don't worry, boss. We'll find the fucker."
Worry. This entire game was getting out of control. "The info better come through. You shake the streets on the contract?"
"You're not going to like it."
"Tell me."
"The shooter is called the Slayer. Some sadistic asshole. Not a player anyone knows from what I can tell. Even our soldiers are scared though. There's talk the hit list is long, if you know what I mean and um..."
He was stumbling over his words, something I couldn't stand. "Just say it."
"You're on that list."