Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
What did it say about him that he was actually considering Soren’s offer? That he was for sale. That any target could buy him off for the right amount of money? Fuck that. He had lines. He wasn’t going to let really bad people off the hook. He had no problem pulling the trigger on child abusers, sex offenders, drug dealers, and other assassins.
But a cat burglar?
In particular, a cat burglar who’d stolen something from an arms dealer.
Soren didn’t strike him as a bad guy. He was funny and charming. Yeah, he’d had a knife hidden in his bathroom, but that little thing looked like it was for self-defense. Cat burglars excelled at avoiding confrontation. They ran rather than fought if they could.
But his reputation—
Alexei rolled his eyes at his own thoughts. He wasn’t going to worry about his reputation more than a man’s life.
He turned on the water and splashed some cold water on his face to help clear his thoughts. He shut off the water, quickly dried his face with a hand towel, and frowned at his reflection. He didn’t like the indecision and frustration that stared back at him. Alexei Prescott was supposed to be confident at all times. Alexei Prescott knew what he was doing.
The problem wasn’t that he didn’t know what the fuck he was doing.
Information was the problem. He didn’t have enough of it. Marilyn was still checking into who the contract holder was and who else had put a target on Soren. Maybe it was better to leave him alone. For now, at least. Just until he had more information. He wasn’t going to allow himself to work for someone evil. The hit on Gabor Kalman might have done the world a favor, but Alexei wasn’t convinced the same could be said for Soren.
Yes, he’d keep Soren alive while he waited to hear from Marilyn. Then he’d make a decision about the man.
Feeling like he finally had his feet firmly on a path again, Alexei stepped out of the bathroom only to find that Soren was gone.
The chair was empty.
The zip ties and rope were lying on the floor.
Son of a bitch.
No, this was his fault. He should have known better than to turn his back on a cat burglar for even a second. He had to find him. Fast. There were likely many other assassins hunting his sexy ass, and if anyone was going to kill him, Alexei was calling dibs.
Chapter 8
This is what he got for letting super-hot guys pick him up in bars in Paris.
Never again.
No more cuties in makeup, fluttering their long eyelashes at him and promising to suck his dick. No more snuggles or cuddles or happy little sighs as they fell asleep in his arms.
Fuck that. It was going to get him killed.
The second he’d woken tied up in a strange place, he’d started carefully cutting at his restraints with a tiny razor blade he kept tucked in his watchband. The discovery that Angel was called Alexei and was an assassin sent to kill him had tripped him up, but only for a second. He hadn’t let himself think about the knot of betrayal crushing his heart or the queasiness in his stomach over the entire thing.
His hands had been loose during a good portion of their talk, but he’d been waiting for his opportunity. Alexei had impressed him already with his speed and resourcefulness. He wasn’t going to count on being faster than him in a fight. No, he’d had to pick his moment.
And that had come when Alexei had stepped into the bathroom. As the water turned on, he was heading out the French doors and down the side of the building. The only thing he’d left behind was his bag. Clothes were replaceable, but he hated to lose his tools. That was annoying, but they were replaceable as well. As long as he had a workable ID on him and some cash, he could manage.
Now he just had to figure out his next step. Did he try the train station again? Grab a flight? Or steal a car and head over the nearest border? Paris had become too damn hot, and with good reason.
Some asshole had put a goddamn hit on his head, and from the sounds of Alexei’s call, there was potentially more than one.
Why?
Well, that was obvious. This stupid hard drive.
He needed to find out what the hell was on that thing or at the very least, get the damn thing in the hands of his buyer and let him deal with the heat.
For now, he needed a place to think, and the best place to think was in the middle of a crowd. It would allow him to get lost in the crush and make some calls. And one of the best crowds to be found in Paris was the Eiffel Tower.