Page 111 of Stolen Hearts
I frown. “Excuse me?”
Ken gestures with his chin. “Lapel, right side.”
I flip the phone back to me, getting in close to see what he’s talking about. And fuck me, I have no idea how I missed it before, but there’s a small patch on the guy’s collar with the Panamanian flag.
“And…?”
“Ken stares at me in disbelief. “You don’t know about this guy?”
“I think hitmen and the men who facilitate their work are a fucking cancer on the world,” I say icily.
Ken drops his eyes. “Well, he’s a fucking legend, man. Panamanian—”
“No shit.”
Ken smiles weakly. “They call him ‘The Surgeon’ because he’s so surgical with a fifty-cal. Like, he could trim the hair on your balls from a hundred yards.”
“Think I’ll pass,” I growl dryly. “You’re saying someone’s hired him to kill me or my wife?”
Ken shakes his head. “Hired, past tense, finito.”
“Neither of us is dead,” I growl.
Ken draws a shaky breath. “Yeah, but he’s a one-shot gun. You hire this guy, you get one chance. If it doesn’t work out—and let me tell you, that’s rare—or if he gets spooked, he’s fuckinggone.”
“Until…?” I growl.
Ken shakes his head again. “Until never. That’s it. He never goes after the same target twice. It’s baked into the deal. And El Cirujano is theonemotherfucker who could do business in this city without going through me. I mean that.”
Ken looks up at me, nervously eying the gun in my hand. “Look, if I can promise you something, will you let me go?”
“Can’t hurt your chances, Ken,” I mutter. “Scared?”
His face pales. “Fuckin’ right I am. Look, what I’m saying is, if he’s gone…that’s it. You and that wife of yours are in the clear—”
My face comes closer to his. “What’s this about a deal, Ken?”
He laughs nervously, dragging on his cigarette as he spreads his arms. “It’s what I do, Castle. And right now, yeah, I’ve got one for you.”
“Speak.”
His Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he eyes my gun again. “You let me go and we forget about this whole thing. And on my end, if I get even a whiff of someone looking to put a price out on you or yours, I’ll shut it down and make you aware of it.” He looks up at me hopefully as he sticks a still-shaking hand out. “We got a deal?”
I grasp his hand so hard he winces. “Just so long as you’re aware that if you try and fuck with me, Ken, they’ll be scraping you off Broadway with a spatula.”
Not only is Ken no actor. He’s also, above all else, looking out for his own neck. So when I leave his place and head back down to the street, I’m not worried about being played. He knows damn well he’s a dead man if he fucks with me on this.
I’m just getting into my car when my cell rings.
“Boss—” It’s Patrick, one of my men I’ve got watching Konstantin’s place. Instantly, I’m on edge at the sharpness in his tone.
“Talk to me,” I growl.
“She got out, Boss.”
“What?!” I hiss, my eyes narrowing dangerously as my hands grip the steering wheel hard.
“Fire alarm went off in the apartment. She wasn’t answering her phone or the door, so we had Gavan’s men who run the building open up. She must’ve been hiding out in the coat closet right inside the apartment door, and when we were clearing the rest of the place, she slipped out. One of the Tsarenko guys saw her getting into a taxi a block away.”