Page 3 of Commit

Chapter One

Hudson

“Any trouble?” I look up from my phone at Atlas’s question and frown.

He stares at me from behind his colossal desk.

“Don’t you think I would have led with that?”

Kenzo chuckles from the sofa where he’s lounging.

“There was a time when you’d refer to me as sir.”

I smirk at his hard tone. “It’s all part of the act, sir. When we’re out in public, I’m nothing but your mild-mannered, dutiful driver,” I grunt, making Atlas’s lips twitch.

“I, for one, would love to see people’s reactions when they realize that Pete, Atlas’s humble driver, is actually a world-class assassin,” Kenzo says with glee in his voice.

“Anonymity is what keeps me alive. Have you ever heard of Miko "the bullet” Haines?”

Kenzo whistles, but Atlas is the one who answers.

“He’s the assassin who died last year, right? I never met him, but I heard his name being thrown around. He had a list a mile long of kills he was responsible for. Apparently, the guy was an arrogant ass.”

“That’s my point. He put his image and name out there, bragging about who he was and what he could do. Then, to top it off, he shares the names of his targets. The man was a fucking idiot. Loose-lipped assassins end up dead. And every single fucker on that list had friends and family that are most likely the prime suspects.”

“We get it. Flying under the radar keeps you alive. Still, it must be boring as fuck just driving us around all the time,” Kenzo sighs, taking a sip of his whiskey.

“Him.” I point at Atlas. “I drive him around. I don’t work for you. In fact, shouldn’t you be in your own fucking office running your own criminal empire right now?”

“I’m bored.”

I look at Atlas, who crosses his arms over his chest and shakes his head.

“How can you be bored? Don’t you have minions to boss around or something?”

“Everyone is too scared of him right now.” Atlas chuckles.

“It’s not funny. I never wanted to be the boss. I should have given the job to Pete.”

I hold my hands up. “It was your wife that took out the Hoffmans, which means you got the job. Suck it up.”

He huffs and takes another sip of his drink as Atlas looks at me, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Cash will be in your account by tomorrow. You want a few days off?”

After doing a job in the UK, which involved taking out a member of parliament and his mistress and flying straight back, I’ll admit jet lag is kicking my ass. When I was in my twenties, I could survive on a few hours of sleep a week if necessary. Now, age is my weakness. At forty-three, I am fast approaching the half-century mark, and my body is more than happy to remind me of that fact. One of those reminders was that I needed far more sleep than I used to. I also had knees that creaked like a fucking trap door in a B-rate horror movie, signaling the end of my career.

An assassin is nothing without the element of surprise.

“Sure, if you don’t need me, I have some shit I need to do anyway. I—” My cell phone rings, cutting off what I was about to say.

I pull out the phone and frown at the screen when I see it’s my son, Landon. Landon and I have a turbulent relationship at best. His mother, Eloise, and I dated in high school. I knocked her up when we were both fifteen. I tried to do the right thing by marrying her after we graduated. I joined the army and became a sniper—and a damn good one, too—until the bureaucracy bullshit became too much. I left after a decade and came home. Within a year of being back, everything fell apart. The ten years I spent enlisted meant the time I’d spent back home had been minimal. That didn’t stop us from getting pregnant with Abbot, though. It just meant Eloise went through the pregnancy and raised a baby alone. There was a lot of bitterness and resentment on her end. When faced with actually living together, it proved to be our downfall. We weren’t the same fifteen-year-old kids anymore. Arguments and fights became our new normal until, one day, I walked away, burning any bridges we had left.

Naturally, my sons hated me for abandoning their mother. I was mostly a stranger to them, anyway, Abbot in particular, and my leaving made it that much easier for them to avoid me. I’d like to say I pushed for more with them, but the truth is, I knew they were better off without me. After coming home, I took on jobs that were less than legal until I made a name for myself as a gun for hire. Having them in my life would have been a risk, no matter how fiercely I guarded my identity.

I’d spoken to them on and off over the years, but their calls were still infrequent enough to raise eyebrows when they did contact me.

“Landon? Everything okay?”