His Princess (A Royal Romance)(121)

He looks at the ceiling and touches my hair, and my shoulder, like he might not get another chance. Quentin toys with a lock of my hair, curling it around his fingers.

“I love red hair. Yours is just perfect. Whoever named you Rose…”

“Tell. Me.”

He lets his arms slide from my back.

“I kill people,” he says flatly.

I sit up and stare at him. “What?”

“I…kill people. I’m a hitman, I guess you’d call it. I never do though.”

My mouth falls open. It takes me a moment to shake my head and clear my thoughts. Dread swirls in my stomach, pushes up into my lungs. I hug myself and start to shake.

Quentin touches my shoulders then pulls me to him. He puts his arms around me again and, God help me, I let him.

“What people?”

“Criminals. Criminals put out contracts to kill other criminals. People like me take them.”

“How many?”

The dread deepens. Oh my God, I just slept with a killer.

“I don’t know.”

There’s something in his voice that makes me want to break. Is he playing me, or is he truly remorseful? I put my hand on his chest. I can feel his heart.

I can tell if people are lying, too. I’m a mom. Moms know.

He’s telling me the truth. He’s a hired killer.

“How?”

“What do you mean?”

“How do you do it?”

“However I’m paid to. I don’t…”

“You don’t what?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never known anything but this. I killed my first man when I was sixteen years old. I made a mess of it, too.” His voice thickens. “How was I supposed to know the difference? I…”

“What are you doing here, then?”

“I’m running. I made a mistake.”

“You killed the wrong person?”

“No,” he says very, very softly. “I refused to kill the right one.”

“I don’t understand.”

I lie on my side and he turns to face me. I can feel in his embrace that he’s thinking this won’t last much longer, this is the end. It makes me sick. Why? It’s not f*cking fair.

“I took a contract to kill a man.”

“What man?”

“It doesn’t matter, you wouldn’t know him. Very powerful people wanted him to die and paid very well.”

“You didn’t do it?” I ask, a note of hope in my voice.

“No, I killed him. The problem was, I was supposed to eliminate any witnesses.”

I swallow. “What witnesses?”

“This man was a trafficker.”

“Trafficker? Like drugs?”

“People. Girls.”

I shiver. “Girls?”

“For labor, and for prostitution.” Disgust twists his voice.

“Somebody wanted to stop this man?”

“No. Somebody wasn’t getting their cut, so he had to be made an example of.”

“They sent you.”

“I volunteered.”

“Because of what he did?”

Quentin sighs. “Because they paid well.”

“Go on.”

“He wasn’t alone. It was fast. I shot him three times, two in the chest, once in the head. He was dead before he knew what was happening. Problem was, he wasn’t alone. This was at his place, a…a villa, I guess you’d call it.”

His arms tighten around me. “Some of the girls were there in the room. My instructions were highly specific. I was supposed to kill them, too. It wasn’t about hiding what happened. It was to send a message. Show what happens when you f*ck with the higher ups.”

“What did you do?”

“I… I was going to. I… The youngest one was little, I mean she was like thirteen f*cking years old, just staring at me with those big dead eyes. Never said anything, just looked at me like, get this over with.”

“What did you do? Leave?”

He shakes his head. “No. I got them out. I, uh, caused some problems.”

“Problems?”

“I sort of burned the house down and killed six guards, and there was a little explosion.”

“A little explosion?”

“It wasn’t like a bad explosion. Just a generator.”

“The girls?”

“I called everybody I could think of, made the older ones swear to watch the younger ones, and left them. I called for help. That was all I could do.”

He rolls onto his back. “I hoped since I emptied the place out, nobody would know what I did. I met up with my contact after that. She was supposed to pay me. Tried to kill me. I ran. Here.”

“Holy shit,” I say.

“Yeah, tell me about it.”

“You never killed kids?”

“Not kids. Never kids. I have a code. We’re supposed to have a code. That’s how I was brought into this. There’s supposed to be a kind of honor in the criminal fraternity. You don’t hurt civilians, you come straight at your enemies, and you don’t double-cross. That’s how it’s supposed to be, anyway. Honor among thieves.”