“What about in the States?” He leveled his gaze at me. “Are you running from anything?”

“Boredom.” He didn’t laugh which made me sigh. “Honestly, I just wanted to shake life up a bit.”

“I’m serious, Ava. An ex-lover holding a grudge? Someone you owe a debt to?”

“No and no. I parted amicably with my last boyfriend and my grandmother left me enough money that I wouldn’t have to go into debt.” I sat the towel down on the counter.

“Someone after your money?” He looked at me intently.

“It wasn’t that much, just enough to cushion me if I was careful.” I wasn’t going to explain the details of my bank account. After I paid Gran’s debts off, I’d had just under twenty thousand left. It was a nice amount of padding, but we weren’t talking millions. Surely not enough to make it worthwhile to hire a hitman.

“Then we’re back to your friends. Is it possible people didn’t know what Tess looked like?” He walked over to a wall and pulled a picture down. There was a safe behind it and he quickly entered a code before opening the door. He pulled out a stack of money in various currencies, a few passports, some folders, and a laptop.

“I guess so.” I sat down on a large stuffed chair and ran my fingers over the arms. “They got married in the States and barely stopped in London before going on their honeymoon. They’re going to be gone for a month, so Tess asked me to house sit—take care of their plants. I think she just wanted to give me an escape. She felt bad for leaving me.”

“Escape from what?” Owen set the laptop down and flipped through his folders.

“Life.” I shrugged uncomfortably when he looked up at me. “I’m twenty-three and was living like a cat woman. Minus the cat.”

“Cat woman?” He smirked.

“I never did anything interesting or spontaneous. I wasn’t even using my art degree because I was comfortable in the boring job I had been doing for the last three years. I was just…existing.” I tucked my feet up under me and picked at the jeans. The knees were wearing thin, like they had been someone’s favorite pair. “I thought London would give me the chance to break out of my routine.”

“Well, I think it’s fair to say you accomplished that.” He smiled before looking down at his computer.

“More like blew it to smithereens.” I propped my chin on my knee and watched him as he typed. “What are you doing?”

“Checking email, trying to see if there are any rumors online. Hints as to what’s going on.” His voice drifted as he searched. “I knew there was something wrong with this hit from the beginning.”

“So is there an assassin chat room? Online support group? A top secret forum?” I leaned forward to try and peek at the computer screen.

“Something like that.” His eyebrows drew together and he frowned. A familiar blue light lit his features and I gasped.

“Oh my God. Are you on Facebook?” I laughed when he turned the computer away from my prying eyes.

“No. I am not on Facebook. What kind of self-respecting assassin would have a Facebook group?”

“Let me see your profile picture.” I reached for the computer and he moved it further away. “Don’t tell me. You’re holding a gun, Bond style.”

“Bond wishes he was as cool as I am.” Laughter lit his eyes as he looked up at me.

“Uh huh.” I shifted back in my seat. “Do you think I could send Tess an email?” That was one thing I could remember; her email had been the same since we had met.

“That is the worst thing you could do right now.” He didn’t look up, just continued to stare at whatever was on the screen.

“Then how do you suggest I let her know she may be in danger?” I tried to reel my temper in, because it wasn’t his fault I was being targeted, but the fact was that I was in a terrible situation. “Or that I’m alive? I’m sure the cops had to have traced Danny’s car by now. Tess probably thinks I’m dead or worse.”

“Worse than dead?” Owen raised an eyebrow.

“Well, I could’ve been taken and sold as a sex slave.” I shrugged. “It happened in that movie where the dad kills everyone, only I don’t have a bad-ass to come save me. And fuck, I ran over a murderous pimp in his garage!”

“You really do have a foul mouth.” He leveled a disapproving stare at me.

“Are you kidding me? You’re an assassin. Stop throwing stones.”

“Point. But I might argue that I manage to kill people while maintaining a sense of propriety.”

“You kill people with a sense of propriety?” Laughter erupted from my mouth. “What? Do you leave a thank you note? Do you design your own assassin stationery? Dear Sir or Madam…” My laughter choked my words.

“I didn’t say I was nice about it. Just proper.”

“Proper.” I shook my head.

“Yes, clean and quick.” He watched stuff scroll across his screen. “Usually.”

I didn’t want to think about what that meant. Instead I turned back to what I felt I could control.

“So why would it be a bad idea to let her know that I’m alive? That she may be in danger?”

“They may be monitoring your email. It could lead them to you or her. Think about it. If they are after you and you let them know she is important to you, then it will send them after her to use against you. If they are after her, it could just alert them to wherever she is right now.” He frowned at me. “Where is she?”