Page 22 of Targeted By Love
“Who died?” Thiago was on the edge of his seat. “Was it messy?”
I begged the universe for my brothers to take life seriously. Other than Boaz, they viewed life as a longstanding joke. They worked and played hard, and it was difficult to pin them down on any serious topic.
“No one died, and yes, if they’d been blown up, pieces of flesh would have been splattered everywhere.”
Boaz got up and confronted me. “Who was the target?”
“Either of the grooms, but I’d put my money on Rhodes’s… that’s my mate, by the way.” I wasn’t sure they’d bothered to learn or recall his name. “…on Rhodes’s brother, one of the grooms.”
My mind was churning because I was supposed to kill Rhodes, and now there’d been an attempt on his brother or brother-in-law’s life. Either way, someone had it in for Rhodes’s family.
Time to fess up.
Four of my brothers were discussing the types of explosives normally planted in a car, but Thiago was staring at my feet.
“There’s more, isn’t there, big bro?”
“How do you know that?” I wasn’t sweating profusely or twisting the ring on my pinkie. And I prided myself on keeping any nervousness under control. In my job—the one I did out of the office—it was necessary, otherwise I’d have been arrested, ambushed, or have had a bullet lodged in my brain long ago.
“Your feet. Or especially your toes. You’re curling them.”
Damn. I needed to remember that, though I was usually wearing footwear when doing a hit. If I ever tracked down a target on a beach or in a swimming pool, I’d remember; no curling of the toes.
“I met Rhodes on a job,” I announced.
“He has money to invest?” Boaz rubbed his chin. “Didn’t look the type to have wads of cash.”
“My other job.”
Riggs bounded to his feet. “I knew it. Spill, Bro.”
He didn’t know. None of them did, though they may have suspected some of my work wasn’t done sitting at a desk.
“People hire me.”
Ezra smothered a giggle and gyrated his hips. “You’re a stripper. That’s how you get to live in this swanky apartment.”
Taking a deep breath, I left the room and removed the Glock from the safe.
“I’m a hitman.”
Not a sound escaped from my brothers. Their faces were devoid of expression, though their mouths were open.
“You’re paid to kill people?” Riggs got out his phone. “How much for a hit? I wanna buy a sports car. Maybe that’s how I do it.”
“The hit was on Rhodes.”
Thiago looked to Boaz who had his head in his hands. “You killed your mate? Whoa! That’s one way to avoid bonding with a human.”
I stomped my feet like a toddler having a tantrum. “No, I didn’t kill him. I was supposed to.”
“What were you thinking? You know the penalty for not going through with a hit.” Boaz motioned with a hand across his throat. “Now we’ll all be targets in the crossfire.”
I rushed through an explanation of how I’d refunded the money.
“Didn’t realize there was a take-backsies on hits.” Ezra crossed his legs and yawned.
“Sorry to bore you, but someone has it in for my mate and his family, and now I’m involved—” I took a breath. “There’s another small detail I haven’t mentioned.”