Ava Gray - Skin Game

Regret, dusted with sorrow, settled at the back of his throat. It felt oddly like tears, and it made his voice raw. “Understood. I’ll do the job for a hundred grand.”

“Let’s be perfectly clear about what that entails.”

“You give me the money. That makes Serrano a dead man walking.”

Her smile said she liked the idea of hiring him away from the man who’d paid him to kill her. “How can I be sure you’ll honor our agreement? You decided you didn’t want to work for him, after taking the job.”

Reyes fisted his hands, gritting his teeth against the urge to punch something. “Foster misrepresented the truth, knowing I wouldn’t take the job any other way.”

“And you’re the best,” she mocked him. “It had to be you. No other killer for hire would do.”

“I don’t know about that,” he muttered. “I don’t know why Foster wanted me bad enough to lie.”

“Your good looks and charming personality?” Her scorn slid like razors against his skin.

He wanted to defend himself, but she was in no mood to hear about his ethics, such as they were. So he nudged the body with his toe. “I’m taking him out back. We can talk more later.”

“Unlikely,” she muttered.

Without answering, he shrugged into a shirt, found his jacket, and went outside. Reyes found tools in the garage that indicated bodies had been buried in the woods before. He took the shovel in his left hand and then went back for the body. He slung the corpse over his right shoulder. VZ hadn’t been a light guy, and he was tired, injured, so he was puffing by the time he got deep into the trees. If the ground was frozen, he might have to settle for dumping it, though burial would be better.

He generally didn’t dispose of bodies. When people wanted someone killed, they wanted it known, so they could remarry, teach somebody a lesson, or collect insurance, whatever the rationale was for the murder. This time, he wanted people wondering.

Reyes found a soft patch beneath a cluster of pine trees. Digging was mindless, and he almost enjoyed it because the repetitive motion took his mind off other matters. He wasn’t surprised by how much she now hated him, just saddened by it. The loss of her hit him harder than he’d expected. Oh, he’d known it was inevitable; he just hadn’t realized how much he’d mind.

Several hours later, he had a small grave. Without ceremony, he rolled the body into it, and filled in the earth. That took another hour. By the time he finished, he was filthy, hungry, cold, and tired. Reyes gave a satisfied smile as he went back to the house. Physical distress went a fair way to obliterating emotional pain.

Astonishment rippled through him when he saw the Marquis still sitting there. Despite their agreement, he’d half expected to find her gone. Good to know her anger hadn’t overruled her common sense. She needed him and he’d deliver. He didn’t want payment from her, but he knew that was the only way she could put faith in their agreement. Kyra lived in a world where people were motivated by money, so she’d believe in greed where nothing else would convince her.

Inside, he found her in the living room, staring out the window. Kyra didn’t acknowledge him as he came in, didn’t even look his way. Her posture said he was nothing to her, less than nothing. She’d know better than anyone how indifference could wound him deeper than anything else; he’d given her the blades with which to cut him. The silence weighed on him, so he passed through.

Bills lay scattered on the bed where they’d made love so many times. So this was how it would be. An endless ache seared him, nothing like he’d ever felt before. No more could he reach for her in the night, no more could he wrap his arms around her and bury his face in her hair. He didn’t have any rights at all where she was concerned, and that seemed entirely wrong.

The easy course would be to leave the money and walk away. Just go. But no matter how much it hurt him to stay, he’d see this thing through for her. It was the least he could do. In his way, he always honored his commitments. She might not believe it, but he was a man of his word.

She’d tidied up as best she could. Reyes scrubbed the floor. He wanted no signs that VZ had caught up with him here. Monroe needed to think he was free and clear, right up until Reyes put a bullet in his brain. That would have to keep, however, until they completed Kyra’s business. Then he’d be free to settle that personal score.

At last he took a shower, washing off all the dirt and dried blood, and then he dressed. It didn’t take long to gather up his things. Part of him would like to burn this place down because it represented both the best days of his life, and the worst. Instead he walked with measured steps to the front room where she waited.

“Ready?”

“Sure. Let’s go get Mia.” She held out her hand for the keys, which were still in his jacket pocket.

I’m not worthy to drive the Marquis, I get it. Reyes turned them over without protest. “I’ll have to direct you.”

“That’s not a problem. How long will it take us?”

“Two days,” he guessed. “Driving eight to ten hours a day.”

“Could we make it in one?”

He considered. “If we took turns driving and slept along the way.”

“Two days it is,” she said, dismissing his use as anything but a smoking gun. “They won’t hurt her. She’s bait. You should call him and tell him I’m on the way, just so they’re sure I’ve taken the lure.”

“You think that’s a good idea? They’ll know we’re coming.”

“No,” she corrected. “They’ll know I’m coming. If we play this right, they won’t see you until it’s too late.”

Smart. She was so damn smart. No wonder she’d kept one step ahead of him for months. How many nights had he spent, studying her picture? Trying to understand the kind of woman who could live as she did. His imagination hadn’t done her justice.

“All right. I’ll make the call.”

Reyes got out his phone and dialed Foster. To his surprise, he got voice mail. The man must have something major going on, because he’d never failed to pick up before. “I gave the girl your message, and she’s heading your way. Good luck, man, you’re going to need it.”

“Very good,” she said as he disconnected. “Casual. That should take care of Mia, assuming they haven’t done anything to her before now.” Her eyes lanced through him like a laser scalpel.

“I should have told you, but you would have insisted on leaving right then, and we needed to let the trail go cold. You can’t help her if you get yourself arrested. Plus, your leg needed to heal some.”

“I’m not interested in your rationalizations. Get your ass in the car. We have a long way to go—”

“And a short time to get there.” He hummed a few bars of “Eastbound and Down” before he remembered she didn’t want to be reminded of how much she’d shared with him. Lying in his arms, she’d talked about how much she loved watching old Smokey and the Bandit movies with her dad. They hadn’t gotten cable most of the places they stayed, so late-night network movies had been their mainstay during her childhood.

Kyra went pale, and her fists clenched. “Shut it, you understand me? You don’t know me, no matter what you think.”

Reyes got in the Marquis. Since he understood why she was furious, he didn’t argue. But he did know her, all the way down to the bone, and for a little while—the sweetest little while—she had been his.

Whenever Kyra looked at him, she felt sick.

So she kept her eyes on the road, and her hands on the wheel, trying not to think how he’d duped her. Shame burned like acid. At any time, he could’ve killed her. How many nights had she lain in his arms? And how unspeakably sad—she’d wanted him almost from the moment she lay eyes on him. How was that for self-destructive?