Harry Styles, a secret service agent working for British intelligence is tasked with finding the killer after a series of brutal but calculated murders across Europe. His mind is sharp, he's smart, arrogant and works with a precision that leaves no...
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Winter
"I meant to say." I began, tipping my head back on the couch so I was looking at the ceiling, exhaling a slow breath of smoke into the air above me. "I got the all clear."
When I looked at the couple beside me, neither of them seemed convinced.
I was at Pearl and Zayn's flat. It had been a couple of days since I'd visited Harry in his flat and made him delete the evidence he had on me. So the past few days had been completely stress free because now there was nothing to take care of, and I could get back to the regular schedule of getting given a target, killing said target, then spending the shit load of money I got on so many ridiculously expensive things that I did not need but bought because I could.
I hadn't been given a job since Miles and I knew they had slowed down on giving me targets to hold back on payments to me as a form of punishment for the recklessness. I had no idea how long I was going to go without killing someone, or how long I wasn't going to get paid for. I was excited for my next target because I was going to put extra care into leading every investigation off my trail. I didn't want it to even cross their minds that the same person was responsible for another kill. As fun as it was to you with them, I didn't want to let them get too close. People were killed all the time, I just had to blend in with the rest of them. I couldn't show off too much. The few days of free time were nice too, it was rare to get more than a week off from chasing targets across the continent.
I sat up straighter handing the joint back to Zayn, we were all sharing it. He glanced at his girlfriend beside him, and they shared an unspoken conversation with only their expressions.
"What is that face for?" I questioned, not liking that I hadn't been part of that conversation.
"Because I don't trust you... at all." Zayn said flatly.
"What do you mean you don't trust me?" I acted completely confused even though I knew the exact reason. They acted like they were my parents half of the time. "I got rid of everything they had on me, problem solved."
Zayn still didn't seem convinced at all and when he spoke, his voice was still soft, not yet irritated but he was beginning to be on edge. "And how exactly did you do that?"
I wasn't going to go to the details of it. How I broke into Harry's flat, hid his scrawny little dog to use as ransom — not my finest move but it did the job— and threatened him until he gave in to me and deleted everything he had. I knew there was nothing to trust, but the expression on his face when he pressed delete couldn't be faked.
"I asked really nicely." I smiled, rolling my lips into my mouth.
Zayn's brows dropped. I could see all of the possible scenarios playing in his head, he was not impressed by the way I'd gotten rid of the witnesses by killing them all while they were inside the building. He had suggested I do it before they went in, but I thought it would be more fun to leave them for Harry to find.
