I double-tapped my target in the chest, and he dropped to the carpet without a sound. I trained my gun on the second man, who leaped to his feet, put up his hands in a placating gesture, and started backing away.
"Hello, Finn," I said in a mocking voice to the drinker. "Weren't expecting to see me here, were you?"
Finnegan Lane, my foster brother, looked at me, a clear plea in his eyes. "You don't have to do this. You've proven your point by icing Owen there already. This whole thing was your lover's brilliant idea, not mine. Don't blame me for his mistakes. "
I gestured with the gun at Owen's prone form. "That's not how I remember things. In fact, I distinctly recall you being the mouthpiece behind this whole situation. You were the one who kept pushing and pushing me. Well, tonight, I finally push back. "
When he realized I couldn't be reasoned with, Finn decided to try another tactic - bribery. "I'll pay you whatever you want to put the gun down and walk away, you know that. "
"I do know that. " A cold, cruel smile curved my lips. "But walking away is not nearly as much fun as this is. You know that as well as I do. "
"No, please, don't - "
I pulled the trigger twice, cutting off his protests, and Finn joined my lover on the floor.
Chapter 2
Silence.
Then Finn let out a loud, unhappy sigh and climbed to his feet.
"Really, Gin, did you have to ruin my suit?" he said. "This was a Fiona Fine original. "
He stared down at the bright red paint splattered across the black fabric of his suit jacket and gray shirt. Then Finn raised his head and glared at me, his green eyes bright in his ruddy face. I didn't bother pointing out that the paint had also splashed onto his face and up into his walnut-colored locks. He was just as obsessive about his hair as he was about his suits, and it just wouldn't do for Finnegan Lane to ever look anything less than perfect.
"I agree with Finn," Owen rumbled and sat up. "I didn't think our little experiment would get quite so messy. "
Owen Grayson got to his feet, his chest covered in just as much red paint as Finn's was. Still, despite his ruined suit, my eyes traced over him, from his blue-black hair to his intense violet eyes to his strong, muscled body. No amount of paint could dampen Owen's rugged appeal or the way he had of making me feel like I was one of the most important people in the world to him.
I walked over, leaned against the desk, and pointed my paintball gun at Owen. "You should have known better than to let Finn talk you into drinking so much at Northern Aggression. Drunken challenges issued to assassins rarely end well for the challenger. Or challengers, in this case. "
Finn stopped trying to scrub the paint off his shirt long enough to glare at me again.
"As I recall, I wasn't drinking alone, and you and I had quite a bit of fun later on that night," Owen said in a husky voice.
"Maybe. " I agreed with a grin. "But Finn was the one who bet me dinner at Underwood's that I couldn't kill you both by the end of the month. So you only have yourselves to blame. "
Finn sniffed his displeasure. "You still didn't have to ruin my suit. "
"No," I agreed. "I didn't have to ruin it. That was just an added bonus. "
He narrowed his eyes, but I just gave him my most innocent, gracious, beatific Southern smile.
"Well, it's getting late, and I'm supposed to head over to Bria's," Finn said. "And I obviously can't go looking like this. "
I rolled my eyes at his put-upon tone, but Owen just laughed.
"Go," Owen said. "Get cleaned up. We can finish our business tomorrow. "
"Say hi to Bria for me," I added in a sugary-sweet voice.
Finn grumbled something under his breath about what I could do with certain parts of my anatomy before packing up his papers and briefcase and leaving.
"Well," Owen said after Finn had shut the office door a little harder than necessary. "You got us both, just like you said you would. "
I grinned again. "That's what people pay me for. Or used to pay me for. "
He raised an eyebrow. "Good to know retirement hasn't lessened your skills any. "