I can confirm that, considering the torture I put him through last night.

“Hell, they could probably skip the torture, considering how easily you gave all that up on them,” Lars continues, like he’s determined to drive the point home.

“You think I’m going to give you guys up?” he asks, sounding hurt.

“Probably not on purpose, but yes.”

His frown deepens, and he goes back to eating.

Lars and I share a look. As offended as Perry is, Lars has a point. We can’t risk Perry accidentally letting slip where we’re staying and having more contract killers at the door. Even though I know that, it doesn’t stop me from wanting to make him feel better.

“Lars is only saying that we need you to be careful.”

Lars grunts.

“Very careful,” I add. “We’re trusting you.”

His sunshiny smile comes out. “I told you: I’ve got this!”

It takes everything in me to almost believe him. “Yeah. So. Good luck.”

“Don’t need it.” Perry gets up to rinse out his bowl before he stacks it in the dishwasher. “By tonight, we’ll know where to start. I hope you guys are ready to be blown away by my skill.”

Hell, if he wants to be this confident, who am I to bring him down?

Even if I know it will never, ever happen.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

PERRY

There’s one thing that can be said about potentially walking into danger and your impending doom: I’m not thinking about St. Clare anymore.

Not him or his kisses or his dick.

When I woke up, it was all I could concentrate on, but sometime during my breakfast and talk of planning, that memory dripped away and was replaced by the reminder that today might not be a very good day.

I’ve had a lot of not-good days, and I’d like to have a whole lot less going forward. This new-perspective version of me probably shouldn’t be playing with fire, but what other choice do I have?

It’s fairly important that I know if I need to look over my shoulder from here on out, and the name of who’s behind these nefarious deeds would really help in that department. Thankfully, Luther is a good guy. I ran a few jobs for him, they didn’t work out, he’ll understand. Underperforming staff is a problem in every industry.

I’m really better suited to the cafe and should be left to my own devices over there. It’s the best outcome for all of us.

And paying the money back. I guess.

That part isn’t the best outcome for me, but in a choice between a padded bank account and my organs all where they belong, it’s a mostly easy choice.

I catch another whiff of myself as I huddle into my dirty hoodie.