The Accidental Assassin (6 page)

“Oxford. I need to make some calls and figure out what’s going on.”

“Are you going to kill me?” she asked. Her voice was steady, but there was no mistaking the fear behind her words.

I sighed. “I don’t normally announce when I’m going to kill someone, but no. I’m not going to kill you. If you haven’t noticed, I’ve been trying to keep you alive.”

We sat in silence and I focused on staying under the radar. Avoiding suspicious behavior was important while driving a stolen car. My mind ran over the events, trying to piece together an exact timeline. Had I seen that woman at any point before this morning? And the doorman had been in place for quite a while. How long had people been planning on killing Ava?

“Why not kill me?” Her voice broke my train of thought and I looked at her confused.

“What?”

“It would be easier. If there really is a bounty on my head you could just collect the money yourself.” She crossed her arms over her chest. I reached out and turned up the heater. It was nearing the end of summer and there was a chill in the air today.

“You’re not my contract.” I shrugged. “And I only take contracts for people who deserve it.” I was not going to go into my philosophy for my job. There was no making what I did okay. I was a murderer.

“How do you know I don’t? I didn’t know Mr. Song was such a horrible man.” She leaned her head back against the seat. “I mean, he was unfriendly, but I never would have looked at him and thought he was involved in some kind of sex scandal.”

“I just know.” Mr. Song’s death wouldn’t bother her if she trafficked in the darker parts of humanity. Her eyes were too bright, too innocent—it wasn’t something you could fake.

She was looking at me like I was a puzzle and for the first time in a long ages, I felt nervous. I reached up and pulled at my tie so it hung loosely and focused on the road. I’d faced down some of the most disgusting people on the planet, but her bright eyes made me feel undone. I needed to get a grip. Or get laid. How long had it been? I couldn’t remember—which was a sad thing.

We lapsed into silence again and I debated our next move. Information was a must. There were too many unknowns in this situation and I didn’t like being blind. What were the odds that two people living in the same building, on the same floor, would have hits out for them at the same time? Whoever was after Ava must have some connection with Mr. Song, which meant I was involved whether I wanted to be or not. And I certainly didn’t want to be involved.

“Look, I can drop you anywhere you want, but you can’t go back to London. It’s not safe there right now. For either of us.”

“I don’t have anywhere else to go,” she said miserably.

I shot Ava a quick glance as we wove our way through traffic. She was looking out the window, chewing on her thumbnail. Unshed tears glistened along her eyelashes and made my heart do something funny. A lot of women would be screaming or hysterical. Ava was trying to not let me see her cry.

“Stay with me,” I said.

“You’re dangerous,” Ava pointed out.

“That’s why you need me.”

She wiped at her eyes, and I could sense she was wavering—but when she finally nodded, I felt relief wash over me. Because at that moment, I understood I had a new job: to protect her.

Shit.

I was definitely involved.

I WOULD NOT become a blubbering mess. I would not cry like a little girl. I would remain calm so I could retain some kind of control of the situation.

Or I would stare out the window and glare at the world that passed by while pretending like I wasn’t crying. I hated to cry. I really fucking hated to cry, especially while trapped in a car with an insanely hot self-confessed murderer.

Then again, wasn’t I a murderer now, too?

The memory of blood creeping across the concrete filled my mind. No, no. Can’t go down that road right now. It was too much to think about. And I had to concentrate on what was happening to me right now. Had to stay calm so I could figure out what I needed to do next.

Not that I had a clue what that was. I should be looking for a cop, distancing myself from Owen, but I had agreed to let him help me and besides I had nothing with me; no money, no passport, no cell phone. Nothing. Everything was in my purse, back in the car that killed Mr. Song. I wasn’t sure I could even remember Tess’s new phone number. I mean, who bothered memorizing phone numbers anymore? And surely the police had gotten to Song by now. They would go through my purse and call out to all of the officers to start looking for the American with torn stockings, blue eyes, and brown hair.

I was so screwed. Right now my entire life hinged on the guy driving this stolen car—on what he decided to do next. And I wasn’t exactly comfortable with that. But my options were limited. Very limited. I sighed.

“What’s in Oxford?” We passed a small sign with the city name.

“My house.” He cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter. “A safe house.”

His house or a safe house? And was I really okay with going to a strange house with him? Did I have a choice?

“What are we going to do there?”

“After I have my way with you I think I’ll order pizza and catch a game.”

My mouth fell open and for a minute my stomach did all sorts of flips. When he saw my expression his lips pulled back into a wide grin and I felt my cheeks heat.

“Very funny,” I said, but he only laughed.

Though I didn’t want to admit it, for a moment I’d hoped he was serious. It had been almost a year since I’d rolled around in the sheets with someone other than George, my battery operated toy.

“I told you I wasn’t going to kill you.” A deep chuckle filled the car.

“You’re an ass.”

“And you’re disappointed I wasn’t serious.” His smirk made me itch to hit him again.

“You wish.” You wish? Was that the best I could come up with?

“We need to figure out why someone is trying to kill you and what we can do about it.” He glanced at me slyly. “Then if you want…”

“You know, maybe after the pizza...” I raised one eyebrow. His eyes darted down to my mouth then slowly back up to meet my gaze. “We could discuss strategy. I’m starving.”

He smiled slowly and looked back at the road. Ha. Score one for me. He wasn’t the only one who could play that game.

I tried to pay attention to landmarks as we drove through town. The last thing I wanted was to be completely lost. There were lots of little storefronts, old buildings, and students meandering through the streets. If I wasn’t worried about someone trying to kill me I would have had a blast poking through the old shops and bookstores.

“What is that?” I pointed at a row of houses. One of them seemed to have a giant fish sticking out of the roof like a missile that hadn’t detonated.

“A shark.” Owen chuckled.

“Why is there a giant shark sticking out of that roof?” I shook my head.

“An expression of outrage about nuclear issues.” He shrugged and I leaned back in my seat. “The city tried to have it removed but failed.”

“It adds a certain amount of charm, don’t you think?” I wished I had my camera. A shark sticking out of a roof would make a fun picture. Of course, my camera was back in Tess’s apartment, which was probably being combed by officers wearing latex gloves and searching for fingerprints.

“It’s certainly eye catching.” His shoulders seemed to relax, even though I hadn’t realized that he was carrying tension in them. Part of me wondered if he ever rode around with someone, just talking.

“What else is there to see in Oxford?” I wanted to keep him talking, see him unwind even more. If nothing else, it made me feel more relaxed.

“Museums, the Carfax tower, the Bridge of Sighs.” He rattled off the list as he made a turn down a narrow lane.

“The Bridge of Sighs?” I smiled. “That sounds romantic.”

“It’s very similar to the bridges you find in Venice, but that’s as romantic as it gets.” Laughter lit his eyes as he talked. “It’s not far from the Turf.”

“The Turf? Turf as in grass?”

“As in Turf Tavern. It’s near the colleges. A lot of the students gather there. Always a good time. Or good trouble.” A note in his voice caught my attention. Pride?

“You grew up here?” I offered the guess. It was definitely not just a safe house that we were going to.

“For a while.” It was like a metal door dropped down and his chipper attitude dissipated in a cloud of smoke.

I didn’t ask anything else as we drove through town. Curiosity raged inside me, demanding to know what would shut him down so quickly, but I knew better than to push for any answers. It didn’t take a psychology degree to see he had some serious issues. Could you be an assassin without some kind of baggage? I seriously doubted it.

Eventually the buildings of town thinned out and we turned down a small country lane that wound through bushes and trees. A small cottage sat nestled amongst the brush. The red door was a little dingy, but the cottage looked to be in good shape otherwise. We climbed out of the car and I stood there looking around the small clearing.

Owen knelt down in front of the Land Rover and used a knife to remove the license plate. I watched, not sure what else I should do.

“Come on.” Owen opened the door for me, waiting for me to go inside. I squeezed past him, conscious of how close we were.

The curtains were closed, leaving the cottage draped in shadow. I moved forward slowly, not wanting to trip. The door creaked as Owen stepped inside and pushed it closed. As he moved close to me I froze, my heart rate accelerating. Leaning forward he reached past me and light flared to life. His bright green eyes bore into mine without looking around the small room.

“Ava?”

“Yes?” I licked my lips.

“You’re safe here.” He didn’t touch me. Didn’t squeeze my hand or even smile. Yet, I did feel comforted. I had a feeling that he didn’t tell people that often. And if he was telling me, that meant he believed it.

“What are we going to do?” I said the words quietly. He had offered me help, I’d have been a fool to not accept it. Even if I was still wary.

“Why don’t you change and I’ll get some food ready? We can talk while we eat.”

“I don’t have anything with me.” I looked down at my dirty dress and torn stockings.

He looked me up and down before walking into an adjoining room. I watched as he opened a few drawers and pulled things out. I chewed on my nail as he walked back to me and proffered his bounty.

“The bathroom is right over there.” He motioned to a door next to the bedroom.

“Thanks.” I took the clothes and walked past him. The bathroom was small but functional. It was neat, with a fine coating of dust on everything that suggested it had been a while since anyone had used the cottage.

I locked the door as quietly as I could. It wasn’t that I thought Owen was going to peek in, it was just more of a precaution. That man didn’t have to go peeking into bathrooms to see naked women. They probably lined up on the sidewalks waving their panties for him.

When I looked into the mirror I frowned at my reflection. My makeup had not held up well to rolling around on the pavement. Of course, being shot at hadn’t helped either. I looked through the shelves in the corner until I found a wash cloth and used it to clean up. I didn’t know what was going to happen next, but looking like I had just pulled an all-nighter at a club probably wasn’t a good idea.

Owen had given me a cable knit sweater that was a little large and a pair of jeans that were snug enough to make me consider not buttoning them. I decided that if I had to do any more rolling around on the ground I didn’t want to lose my pants so sucked it in and zipped them up. My hair was a mess, hanging around my face in clumps, so I pulled it all the way down and tried to work some of the knots out. It was silly to care what I looked like, but it felt good to take a few minutes to do something so normal.

When I was finished I took my clothes and shoes out to the living room. Owen was on the phone while stirring a pot on the stove, his jacket and tie discarded on the sofa. There was a tattoo on his left forearm that curved up and around, but I couldn’t see exactly what it was. I took a seat at the table, quiet so I wouldn’t interrupt. I had no idea who he was talking to or what they needed to know, but I didn’t want to announce my presence.