Page 40 of How to Kill Your Rival

‘If he was aiming to poison you, I’m sure he’d have done it before the wedding between my dad and your mum.’ I roll my eyes.

‘Fraser?’

‘Builder’s tea. I’m not a monster. Mrs Cairns made it. You can ask her.’

James looks at the bundles.

‘It’s tea,’ Fraser says. ‘Help yourself. Or not. Just don’t get any near the journals.’

James gets two cups from the sideboard and pours for both of us. He passes his cup over and pauses, watching me.

I look at the cup. It’s just tea. The right colour. The right smell.

James picks up his cup and meets my eyes. There’s a sparkle of a dare there, and I feel the familiar heat rising. There’s a challenge in his face. And I love it when he challenges me.

We both sip, and while I’m fairly sure my brother won’t try to kill me, I can’t guarantee he won’t fuck up accidentally.

Neither of us dies.

It’s almost a little anticlimactic, really.

‘Good tea,’ James says.

And while he sounds nice, he looks at Fraser with an expression I can’t read.

Like he doesn’t trust him.

I shake off the feeling, attributing it to my fading hangover.

14

JAMES

Two weeks pass without seeing Eliza. And every single day away from her drives me crazy. We’ve both been like passing ships in London, sent in different directions on the app. She dealt with a trafficker in Dover, while I ended up taking out a drug dealer in Birmingham. When I made it back to London, she was gutting a man in Edinburgh. Her time in London had me trailing a guy in Ireland. He’d been a wily fuck and had very nearly evaded me.

I can’t help but wonder if someone is trying to keep us apart.

No. No one suspects that I’m obsessed with Eliza.

Maybe Eliza’s been keeping us apart… It would be just like her to kiss and evade.

You are a desperate loser for her.

Has she decided that kissing me isn’t worth the complication? She hasn’t said so. My messages have had brief replies.

Of course, it’s Eliza. She may be able to split a man’s ball sack from across a room by throwing her knife, but ask for any emotion and it’s like I’ve tried to get her to solve world hunger in one simple move.

Shit, maybe I should give up already. Pining after her is only making things more difficult. Yet every time I consider stopping, it’s like someone stabs me in the chest.

Instead, I’ve been throwing myself into both work and tracking down leads in the app. Which isn’t easy. They’ve built it to make connections disappear shortly after the contracts are completed.

I stretch as I get to the building in the heart of the industrial estate. My mark should be on the second floor, alone. His son says so. He always works late on Tuesdays. It’s not often I get people paying to have their parents killed. From what I can glean from the report in the app, he’s been making his son’s life miserable since the day he was born. About time for a little comeuppance.

The door is ajar, and I pause. It’s possible that the guy has left it unlocked, but it’s careless. Grabbing my knife, I flick it open and press the door open with my shoulder. There’s a small office that opens onto the main mechanical area. Above, a yellow glow emanates from behind a thin set of blinds covering an interior window. There’s the shape of a man there, moving around. Seated, I’d guess.

Darkness shrouds the space, other than the weak window light. I move through it silently until I spot movement up ahead. A flash of silver in the low light.

A knife.