The Accidental Assassin (Assassins #1)

by Nichole Chase

  “No. Tell him there was a complication. Nothing I can’t handle.” He stepped away from the stove to grab two bowls from a shelf. He stone-cold voice was so at odds with his movements, I felt like I was watching two versions of him battling for reality. “He knows how to reach me.”

  He set the bowls down before throwing the phone on the counter. I watched as he worked, enjoying the complete contradiction of him working in the kitchen. He was definitely at home in the cottage, even if there were no photographs on the walls. There was no hesitation when he reached for something, because he must’ve reached for it a hundred times in the past. It made him seem normal, not a hardened hired killer.

  “I was going to make tea, but it seems we’re out.” He flung a dish towel over his shoulder and leaned against the counter. “The clothes fit?”

  As his eyes ran over me I fought the urge to fidget with the giant sweater. I felt like I might as well be naked under his scrutiny. His gaze lingered on my shoulder where the wide neck of the sweater kept slipping off. Instinctively I reached up and touched the spot he stared at, wondering what it would feel like to have his mouth there instead. The moment seemed to draw out and I realized I hadn’t answered his question.

  “They’re fine.” I cleared my throat and looked down at the table. “What are you making?”

  “Canned soup. I don’t keep perishables here.” He nodded toward the open cupboard. Cans lined the shelf.

  “Not here often.” It wasn’t a question.

  “No.” He folded his arms over his chest as he regarded me. I wasn’t sure what he was looking for so I sat there quietly. “How are you holding up?”

  I shrugged. What could I say? I’m fine? That would be a lie. I wasn’t bleeding or having a panic attack, but I also wasn’t comfortable or happy.

  “You seem to be handling this pretty well.” He turned to stir the pot again.

  “No. I’m not. Inside I’m huddled in a corner and crying.” I folded my hands on the table in front of me. “I have no idea what’s going on, I’m in a stranger’s cabin wearing a stranger’s clothes, and all of my belongings, including my passport, are back at Tess’s apartment.”

  “Tess?” He turned around and looked back at me.

  “My friend. I’m housesitting for her while she’s on her honeymoon.” My stomach clenched. I wasn’t sure why it hadn’t occurred to me until that moment, but what if those people hadn’t been looking for me? “Oh my God. I need to call her. She might be in danger.”

  “Hold on a minute.” He took the pot off the stove and ladled the soup into the bowls. “Was that your car in the garage?”

  “No. That’s Danny’s car. Her husband.” I twisted my fingers together. “I’m just housesitting and got a call for a job interview. I hate driving here, but I didn’t have any other options.”

  “Your friend, is she American as well?” He sat a bowl down in front of me before taking the opposite chair.

  “Yeah. She met Danny in the States and they went straight on their honeymoon.” Sitting back in my chair I shook my head. “I need to call her.”

  God damnit. I didn’t even know her new number.

  “That’s not a good idea.” Owen shook his head. “They could be monitoring her.”

  “What if it’s not me that they were after? What if they really meant to kill Tess? I have to warn her!” I stood up and stepped toward the counter.

  “And if she wasn’t their target, you’ll be putting her in their sights.” Owen didn’t get up, just waited for me to think it over. “Let me see what kind of information I can get before we do anything. There is something weird going on and I don’t like it.”

  “You mean weirder than running over a man, being shot at, and stealing cars?”

  “That’s a normal work day for me, love.” He winked at me and I thought about punching myself for the giddiness that coursed through my veins. Maybe I should just punch him. Anger was better than panic, right?

  “Yeah, I’m beginning to get that.” I sat back down and picked up my spoon. “Who did you call?”

  “My handler.” He took a few sips of his soup. “I need to check in and let him know the hit went amiss. I’m also going to ask if there are any hits out for an American woman. Try to feel out the case.”

  My stomach clenched. Would he decide to take the job himself once he knew how to get the money? I looked down at my bowl and tried to not show my nerves. One minute I felt completely at ease, contemplating his ass while he cooked, and the next I was shaking like there was a velociraptor watching me while I ate gelatin. I was apparently insane. Or in a really odd situation. Jesus, I wish there was a script I could follow.

  He got up from his seat without a word and opened a small drawer next to the stove. When he pulled out the black gun I sat up straight, watching him. If he decided to shoot me there wasn’t anything I could do about it. Casually he checked the chamber and slid the gun across the table to me. I looked from it to him.

  “You need to be able to defend yourself.” He sat back down in front of his soup.

  “From who?” I slid the gun closer to me. I had used guns on Grandma’s farm. Mostly shotguns or rifles, but it had been a long time.

  “From anyone you think is a threat.” He dug back into his soup.

  “Would this gun stop you?” I lifted the gun, wrapping my fingers around the grip, careful to avoid the trigger. I dropped the clip and checked the chamber. A large bullet fell onto the table, spinning for a moment. I popped the clip back into the handle, cocked the gun, dropped the clip and replaced the bullet. And I managed to do it all without shaking hands.

  “It could.” His amused smile made an appearance. “You know your way around a gun?”

  “Some.” I set the pistol back down on the table and decided to eat. I had a feeling it was important to keep my stamina up. “My grandmother owned a farm. So, I know the basics. Mainly it was just shotguns or rifles. Trying to scare predators away from the chickens or occasionally dealing with a sick animal. We didn’t have much to do with pistols, but I did win a couple of sharp shooting competitions in 4H. I didn’t keep up with the training though.” I sighed and tried to not think about that too much. I’d had to put down one of our cattle the year Granny had passed. She’d been too weak to do it and I couldn’t look at the cow suffering any longer.

  “Good. Then I don’t have to worry about you shooting yourself.”

  “I’d be more worried that I’d accidently shoot you.” I laughed at his expression. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He stood up and went back to the stove for more food. “No one should feel helpless.”

  His words rang through the quiet little house. Oddly, I did feel better having the gun. If he was going to kill me, he could have done it already, and certainly wouldn’t have given me a way to defend myself.

  I finished my soup quickly. You’d think I wouldn’t be hungry with everything that was going on. I had killed a man today—shouldn’t I feel bad? But instead of praying or offering up Hail Marys, I was scraping the bowl with my spoon like it would magically spout out more chicken.

  “I can make more.” Owen watched me, amusement in his expression.

  “I don’t know why I’m so hungry.” I pushed back in my seat. “I’ll do it if you don’t mind.”

  “Help yourself.” He threw an arm over the back of his chair and watched as I got up and moved through his kitchen.

  I looked over the cupboard offerings and picked a can of clam chowder. With the overcast weather and soft patter of rain it seemed like the perfect fit. I took my time as I rinsed out the pot and used the handheld can opener. His eyes followed my every move and I tried to not show how it affected me. There was a tension between us that was undeniable and the new me might have jumped all over that fact, except for everything that was going on.

  “Where was your job interview?” His voice rumbled through the room.

  “A jewelry designer.” I sighed. “I really wanted it, too.
”

  “Is that what you were doing at the café? Filling out job applications?”

  My cheeks heated at the reminder that he had been watching me. “Yeah. I didn’t expect to hear back from them so quickly.”

  “When did you hear from them?” His eyes narrowed.

  “This morning. I barely had enough time to get ready.” I stirred the pot on the stove. “I wonder if I would’ve gotten the job?”

  “Had you made it, I’m betting they wouldn’t have had any idea why you were there.”

  “What do you mean?” I turned to look at him, for a moment thinking he was implying I wasn’t good enough for the position.

  “It was a set up. They were drawing you out so they could make the hit.”

  “But—”

  “Think about it, Ava. What are the odds that someone would call you before normal business hours to ask you to come in for an interview?” His head cocked to the side. “They were hoping to take you out without causing a scene. The garage was typically empty at that time of the morning.”

  My mouth opened and then closed. “How could they…”

  “Hacking into email isn’t difficult.” He walked to the sink and rinsed his bowl. “I should know.”

  “But—but.” I shook my head. “So I didn’t get the job interview?”

  “Is that the part that upsets you the most?” His smile mocked me and I glared at him.

  “I really wanted it. I wanted to get a job so I could get a work visa.” I leaned my hip against the counter and crossed my arms.

  “You don’t plan on going back to the States?”

  “I won’t have a choice if I can’t find a job.” I turned back to the stove and stirred the pot again. I was still shocked that I had been set up, that my computer had been hacked, and I had no idea. How long had the woman in red heels been following me? The doorman had been at the building since I’d arrived during a thunderstorm with nothing but my carry-on bags.

  “Don’t you have a job and family back home?” He moved a little closer and I could feel his eyes on me like a caress. It was so odd to look at him and find the balance between the murderous monster that lurked behind his eyes and the gentle manner with which he looked at me.

  I shrugged.

  “No?”

  “No family. Quit my job.” I looked up at him, surprised that he was so close. “When Tess got married I realized I needed to change. Stop doing all of the same things. Try something new.”

  “Seems like you’re accomplishing your goal.” The laughter in his voice made me meet his stare.

  “I guess so.” I felt the corners of my mouth turning up. “Killing people in garages, a mad car chase through London…guess I can mark those off my to-do list now. You sure know how to show a girl a good time.”

  “And I’m not even trying yet.”

  “Yet?” Did my voice sound heavy? I looked up at him.

  “Yet.” Hunger lit his eyes. Oh my.

  “That so?” I bit my bottom lip.

  “So.” He reached out and brushed some of the hair away from my face.

  We stood there like that for a few minutes, our gazes locked as we contemplated each other. The hiss of the soup boiling over broke the moment and I turned around to turn the stove off. Owen grabbed a rag from the sink and cleaned up the mess while I dished food into our bowls.

  “Is there any reason someone would be after your friend?” Owen leaned against the corner before spooning some of the soup into his mouth.

  “Tess? God, no. Everyone loves her.” I pursed my lips. “I can’t imagine anyone wanting to hurt her.”

  “What about her husband?”

  “Danny?” My initial reaction was to say the same thing. Danny was funny, personable, and put everyone at ease. But the truth was, I didn’t know him very well. He and Tess had only dated for a few months before deciding to elope. “I don’t know.”

  “What does he do?” Owen set his empty bowl in the sink.

  “He’s a contractor. Builds things.”

  “What type of things?” Owen cocked his head to the side. “Maybe he’s upset someone.”

  “Upset someone? Danny is one of the easiest guys to get along with, I can’t imagine he would do something that would upset someone that badly without trying to make it right.” I needed to talk to Tess. I was terrified she would wander into a terrible situation and be completely blind.

  “Maybe he doesn’t know that he’s done something wrong.”

  “Then I’m not going to know what it is.” I shook my head and added my empty bowl to the sink. “For that matter, maybe I’ve done something and I just don’t know what it is.”

  “Have you gone anywhere unusual, met any abnormal people?” He turned the water on and started cleaning the dishes. “Other than me?” He threw me a smile that had me shaking my head.

  “Not that I know of.” I plucked the clean bowl from his hand and the towel from his shoulder. I thought it over as I dried and he cleaned. Where all had I been, what had I done? Nothing outlandish or uncommon came to mind. The typical tourist traps and landmarks in London, but hadn’t really had much contact with anyone other than Rachel at the café.

  “What about in the States?” He leveled his gaze at me. “Are you running from anything?”

  “Boredom.” He didn’t laugh which made me sigh. “Honestly, I just wanted to shake life up a bit.”

  “I’m serious, Ava. An ex-lover holding a grudge? Someone you owe a debt to?”

  “No and no. I parted amicably with my last boyfriend and my grandmother left me enough money that I wouldn’t have to go into debt.” I sat the towel down on the counter.

  “Someone after your money?” He looked at me intently.

  “It wasn’t that much, just enough to cushion me if I was careful.” I wasn’t going to explain the details of my bank account. After I paid Gran’s debts off, I’d had just under twenty thousand left. It was a nice amount of padding, but we weren’t talking millions. Surely not enough to make it worthwhile to hire a hitman.

  “Then we’re back to your friends. Is it possible people didn’t know what Tess looked like?” He walked over to a wall and pulled a picture down. There was a safe behind it and he quickly entered a code before opening the door. He pulled out a stack of money in various currencies, a few passports, some folders, and a laptop.

  “I guess so.” I sat down on a large stuffed chair and ran my fingers over the arms. “They got married in the States and barely stopped in London before going on their honeymoon. They’re going to be gone for a month, so Tess asked me to house sit—take care of their plants. I think she just wanted to give me an escape. She felt bad for leaving me.”

  “Escape from what?” Owen set the laptop down and flipped through his folders.

  “Life.” I shrugged uncomfortably when he looked up at me. “I’m twenty-three and was living like a cat woman. Minus the cat.”

  “Cat woman?” He smirked.

  “I never did anything interesting or spontaneous. I wasn’t even using my art degree because I was comfortable in the boring job I had been doing for the last three years. I was just…existing.” I tucked my feet up under me and picked at the jeans. The knees were wearing thin, like they had been someone’s favorite pair. “I thought London would give me the chance to break out of my routine.”

  “Well, I think it’s fair to say you accomplished that.” He smiled before looking down at his computer.

  “More like blew it to smithereens.” I propped my chin on my knee and watched him as he typed. “What are you doing?”

  “Checking email, trying to see if there are any rumors online. Hints as to what’s going on.” His voice drifted as he searched. “I knew there was something wrong with this hit from the beginning.”

  “So is there an assassin chat room? Online support group? A top secret forum?” I leaned forward to try and peek at the computer screen.

  “Something like that.” His eyebrows drew together and he frowned. A f
amiliar blue light lit his features and I gasped.

  “Oh my God. Are you on Facebook?” I laughed when he turned the computer away from my prying eyes.

  “No. I am not on Facebook. What kind of self-respecting assassin would have a Facebook group?”

  “Let me see your profile picture.” I reached for the computer and he moved it further away. “Don’t tell me. You’re holding a gun, Bond style.”

  “Bond wishes he was as cool as I am.” Laughter lit his eyes as he looked up at me.

  “Uh huh.” I shifted back in my seat. “Do you think I could send Tess an email?” That was one thing I could remember; her email had been the same since we had met.

  “That is the worst thing you could do right now.” He didn’t look up, just continued to stare at whatever was on the screen.

  “Then how do you suggest I let her know she may be in danger?” I tried to reel my temper in, because it wasn’t his fault I was being targeted, but the fact was that I was in a terrible situation. “Or that I’m alive? I’m sure the cops had to have traced Danny’s car by now. Tess probably thinks I’m dead or worse.”

  “Worse than dead?” Owen raised an eyebrow.

  “Well, I could’ve been taken and sold as a sex slave.” I shrugged. “It happened in that movie where the dad kills everyone, only I don’t have a bad-ass to come save me. And fuck, I ran over a murderous pimp in his garage!”

  “You really do have a foul mouth.” He leveled a disapproving stare at me.

  “Are you kidding me? You’re an assassin. Stop throwing stones.”

  “Point. But I might argue that I manage to kill people while maintaining a sense of propriety.”

  “You kill people with a sense of propriety?” Laughter erupted from my mouth. “What? Do you leave a thank you note? Do you design your own assassin stationery? Dear Sir or Madam…” My laughter choked my words.

  “I didn’t say I was nice about it. Just proper.”

  “Proper.” I shook my head.

  “Yes, clean and quick.” He watched stuff scroll across his screen. “Usually.”

  I didn’t want to think about what that meant. Instead I turned back to what I felt I could control.