Page 12 of Targeted By Vengeance

Where every man starts after he’s fucked up: a bouquet flowers and a sincere apology. Bonus points if you bring a treat like chocolate or cookies.

I opened my mouth, prepared to tell her that idea was cheesy as hell and would probably earn me a slap in the face rather than reconciliation, but the bell at the front door prevented me from doing so.

Both of our eyes darted to the entrance of the desolate diner we were sitting in. A tall man in a long trenchcoat was strolling inside. The brim of his hat was low, shielding his face in shadows. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he nodded at the elderly waitress behind the counter who greeted him and ambled towards our table.

“You’re early,” he commented as he slid into the other side of the booth. The cold air put a rasp in his voice. He cleared his throat to get rid of it, only to end up coughing. He hid his mouth with his hand. Red spots stood out against his olive skin when he pulled it away. “What bad news have you bought me this time?” He asked, quickly laying his hand down on his lap, out of our sight.

“Remember the FBI agent I needed to take care of?”

“Hard to forget.”

“She’s dead.”

“Well, it’s about time.”

“I can’t take the credit for killing her. Her own people took her out.”

He tilted his head. “How the fuck do you know that?”

I stared at him, letting my silence speak for me.

“I’ll be damned,” he muttered, shaking his head. “What the hell happened to one night?”

“We had our one night. Then, her own people tried to kill her. By the time I found her, she was already dead to the public. So, we took her in - hid her away.”

“Don’t tell me you’re planning on making her a kept woman.”

“She has the potential to be a valuable asset,” I explained. “She’s already well trained in combat and weapons. Plus, she has a set of investigative skills that could take the efficiency of our hits to the next level.”

“What about her ability to utilize those skills? Feds don’t go running around killing people for no reason. If you hand her a gun and tell her to shoot someone in the head, will she do it - without hesitation or questions?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. I despised that it was the only answer I could give. “But, she has a personal vendetta to settle. I could use that as a foundation and build up her tolerance from there.”

“And say she isn’t able to pull the trigger when the time comes, what happens then? Will you take responsibility for her incompetence or will you let her rot in a metal coffin?”

“She’ll never go unsupervised. Not until she can take someone’s life without blinking.”

“Sounds like you’ve got it all planned out already.” Sighing, he leaned back in his chair and picked up the laminated menu. “You got options in the case I say no?”

“Yes, but I was hoping you wouldn’t.”

“Hm.” Shaking his head, his head lifted the slightest bit. Beneath the rim of his hat, his dark eyes flicked to Maria. “You and your strays.”

Maria’s crossed arms tightened as she shot a glare at Ares.

“Takes one to know one,” I replied.

His gaze returned to me for a moment, the line of his mouth tightening, before he looked back down at the menu. “Fine,” he replied. “Put more on your plate if you want to. But, don’t come crying to me when it all falls over.”

“I won’t,” I promised. I slid out of the booth, and Maria followed behind me.

“Mateo,” Ares called before we could walk away.

I stopped in my tracks, and waited for whatever he had to say next.

“Make sure this isn’t a decision you’ll regret.”

“Don’t worry,” I assured him. “I haven’t made one of those yet.”