Last Hit (Hitman) by Jessica Clare, Jen Frederick Read Free Book Online Page A

comprehension. The deprivation of oxygen is perhaps affecting his thinking, and I ease my grip. "This is not such a hard choice, right? There are so many other dumps you can live in."
    "But my security deposit," he coughs out.
    Money, always money. Still holding him around the throat, I dip into my pocket and pull out two one-hundred dollar bills from my wallet.
    "Enough?" I wave them at him. His eyes widen, and he nods vigorously. He reaches for the money, but I hold it away from him. "Uh uh. Tell me what you will do."
    "I’ll move out."
    "When?"
    "Today."
    "
When?
"
    "Now," he gasps.
    I nod and let him go. He grabs the money and runs. I will check later to see if 122 is empty. If not, I will make it so.
    Now I need to fix Daisy’s clothing problem. One that she isn’t aware she has.
    I have no change, so I bypass the coin slots with two thin sticks of plastic from my lock kit. Angling them into the slots, I make the machine believe it is being fed two coins. I’m not stealing, really. I have no clothes to wash. But if Daisy returns to find me here, waiting, I will need a cover story.
    I set the machine to a long wash and sit down to wait for her return. Daisy’s dryer dings to signal its completion. My body tenses at the thought of her return. I have had little interaction with a girl like Daisy. Most of the women I’ve known, I’ve paid for. For the money I give to them, they treat me however I want, which is mostly to service me and then go away. I do not care what the whores think of me—but with Daisy…with Daisy, I care.
    She stops short when she sees me. Obvious surprise is evident on her fine features. I offer her a small smile, my facial muscles protesting at the unfamiliar use.
    "Hi again," she says tentatively.
    "Your dryer, it is done," I reply. Her expression is no longer surprise but wariness. Neither emotion is one I want to invoke, although what I want from her is not fully known, even to me. Desire, yes. Want, yes. Tender emotions, yes…or no. I am beset with uncertainty and in unfamiliar territory, so I respond with stoicism, which in turn makes her even more cautious. I can see it.
    It is devolving so quickly.
Nikolai, do something,
I command myself.
    I swiftly walk over to her. Taking her hand, I gently guide Daisy to her machine. "I’m sorry, have I frightened you? I just wait for my own things." I gesture toward the machine I manipulated earlier.
    "No, I was just surprised to see anyone here." She stands in front of the machine and makes no effort to withdraw her clothes. A light pink stain upon her cheeks gives me a clue. She is embarrassed. I have no idea why, but I turn away and then to go sit in my chair. Her unease is distressing me, and I do not know what to do to make it go away other than to leave her. My throat feels tight. Maybe if I visit a whore again I will pay her to teach me to flirt.
    My own cheeks feel hot, and I pretend to read my emails while Daisy empties the contents of her machine into a plastic basket with broken webbing. A cry of dismay has me ricocheting out of my chair, but there is no threat to her. Daisy is staring at her belongings, one item in each hand and the stains from bleach I placed in her dryer are obvious. Guilt strikes me hard, harder than I’d imagined.
    "What is it?" I ask, pretending I don’t know that I have likely ruined her only clothes. She bows her head, and I wonder if she will cry. Please,
kotehok,
please do not cry.
    In the end no tears fall, but her fatalism, her resigned acceptance of this loss makes me feel even worse, as if I have physically squeezed a little of her happiness from her.
     Abruptly I stand again, and the chair rattles backward into the machine.
    "
Kotehok,
what is wrong?" My hand hovers over her bowed shoulders. I want to touch her but feel too guilty.
    She sighs and then turns to me with a slight shake of her head. "Just my luck, I guess. I must have put the clothes in a machine that had bleach in it." She holds up a pair