Chance Assassin: A Story of Love, Luck, and Murder by Nicole Castle Page A
Authors: Nicole Castle
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had started melting, visible stains on the bedspread, unspeakable carpet, and an out of order sign taped to the TV. Home. Temporarily.
“It’s cleaner than it looks,” he said with slight embarrassment.
Frank obviously made decent money. What the hell was he doing in a place like this? “Why don’t you stay in the same hotel as Charlie?” I asked, though I was really referring to the quality of the hotel. I knew why he didn’t stay in the same building as his friend. Every time they were in a room together, Frank ended up storming out. Absence made the heart grow tolerant in their case.
“Four star hotels are more likely to question a cash payment,” he said, understanding my meaning. “I don’t deal with plastic.”
I smiled at him, letting him know that I didn’t care if he stayed in a dump. He was still classier than The Warden by a long shot, and besides, Charlie’s hotel had been two stars at best.
Frank’s cell phone rang, making me jump like I had when the body fell off the bed. I hadn’t even realized he had a cell phone. It seemed a bit pointless for someone who talked as little as he did to own a phone at all, much less one he could travel with. Frank obviously agreed, because he threw it into the wall, shattering it into so many pieces it may as well have been made of glass. “Sorry,” he said.
Usually I was very skittish when it came to abrupt violence. It had only taken one instance of pain at the hands of someone I trusted to teach me to cower. But amazingly, I hadn’t flinched away from him during his outburst. Frank had been the one to move, softly putting his hand against my chest and forcing me to step back before he’d added another dent to the already marred wall.
Frank apologized again. This wasn’t normal behavior for him, though it was exactly how I expected him to be when we first met. He didn’t come across as mean necessarily; he just seemed like the type of person who’d kill your whole family if you made him mad. His personality was a direct contrast to how dangerous he looked. Frank couldn’t have been more passive most of the time. I imagined that was why I was so enthralled with seeing his reaction. It was the first time since I got to know him that my fantasy of rough sex appeared possible. If only he was gay.
“That was Charlie,” he said.
“That’s what I figured,” I said, only to have my voice drowned out by the banshee wail of Charlie’s car in the distance. At least we had a warning when he was approaching.
“Shit,” Frank muttered. “Can you be quiet?”
“ Yes , I can be quiet,” I scoffed.
“Good. Do it. Bathroom, now. And close the door.”
I didn’t take offense to his cold tone. I knew he was being protective. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret, Frank,” I said as I stood. As much as I would’ve liked for Charlie to get what was coming to him, having Frank defend my honor wasn’t going to help anything. “I’m not hurt.”
He nodded, obviously thankful for the reminder.
The bathroom was small, but apart from the occasional stain on the cracked tile, and the mirror being held to the wall with duct tape, it had fared better than the rest of the room. There were no signs of mildew in the grout, no questionable leaks behind the pipes. But Frank’s personal effects were noticeably absent. In fact, the entire place looked unlived in. For having been in the same spot for weeks, I’d have thought he’d unpack a little.
I knelt by the side of the closed door, listening for Charlie’s entrance.
“Hey, Frankie boy. I tried calling you―”
“My phone’s broken.”
Charlie laughed. Apparently he’d seen how broken it was. “Did you do what I told you to do?”
“I took care of it. You owe me.”
“About that…”
“Charlie, I am not in the mood.”
“All right, all right.” There was a brief pause, during which I assumed they had
“It’s cleaner than it looks,” he said with slight embarrassment.
Frank obviously made decent money. What the hell was he doing in a place like this? “Why don’t you stay in the same hotel as Charlie?” I asked, though I was really referring to the quality of the hotel. I knew why he didn’t stay in the same building as his friend. Every time they were in a room together, Frank ended up storming out. Absence made the heart grow tolerant in their case.
“Four star hotels are more likely to question a cash payment,” he said, understanding my meaning. “I don’t deal with plastic.”
I smiled at him, letting him know that I didn’t care if he stayed in a dump. He was still classier than The Warden by a long shot, and besides, Charlie’s hotel had been two stars at best.
Frank’s cell phone rang, making me jump like I had when the body fell off the bed. I hadn’t even realized he had a cell phone. It seemed a bit pointless for someone who talked as little as he did to own a phone at all, much less one he could travel with. Frank obviously agreed, because he threw it into the wall, shattering it into so many pieces it may as well have been made of glass. “Sorry,” he said.
Usually I was very skittish when it came to abrupt violence. It had only taken one instance of pain at the hands of someone I trusted to teach me to cower. But amazingly, I hadn’t flinched away from him during his outburst. Frank had been the one to move, softly putting his hand against my chest and forcing me to step back before he’d added another dent to the already marred wall.
Frank apologized again. This wasn’t normal behavior for him, though it was exactly how I expected him to be when we first met. He didn’t come across as mean necessarily; he just seemed like the type of person who’d kill your whole family if you made him mad. His personality was a direct contrast to how dangerous he looked. Frank couldn’t have been more passive most of the time. I imagined that was why I was so enthralled with seeing his reaction. It was the first time since I got to know him that my fantasy of rough sex appeared possible. If only he was gay.
“That was Charlie,” he said.
“That’s what I figured,” I said, only to have my voice drowned out by the banshee wail of Charlie’s car in the distance. At least we had a warning when he was approaching.
“Shit,” Frank muttered. “Can you be quiet?”
“ Yes , I can be quiet,” I scoffed.
“Good. Do it. Bathroom, now. And close the door.”
I didn’t take offense to his cold tone. I knew he was being protective. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret, Frank,” I said as I stood. As much as I would’ve liked for Charlie to get what was coming to him, having Frank defend my honor wasn’t going to help anything. “I’m not hurt.”
He nodded, obviously thankful for the reminder.
The bathroom was small, but apart from the occasional stain on the cracked tile, and the mirror being held to the wall with duct tape, it had fared better than the rest of the room. There were no signs of mildew in the grout, no questionable leaks behind the pipes. But Frank’s personal effects were noticeably absent. In fact, the entire place looked unlived in. For having been in the same spot for weeks, I’d have thought he’d unpack a little.
I knelt by the side of the closed door, listening for Charlie’s entrance.
“Hey, Frankie boy. I tried calling you―”
“My phone’s broken.”
Charlie laughed. Apparently he’d seen how broken it was. “Did you do what I told you to do?”
“I took care of it. You owe me.”
“About that…”
“Charlie, I am not in the mood.”
“All right, all right.” There was a brief pause, during which I assumed they had
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