Hitman vs Hitman - L.A. Witt Page 0,29

into the kitchen, Ricardo discovered two things:

One, August Morrison was clearly not a morning person and currently had all the charisma of a hung-over zombie.

Two, the son of a bitch looked damn good when he was dressed down.

Ricardo’s maroon-and-blue checkered FC Barcelona jersey was a little big for August, but coupled with a pair of jeans—relaxed fit, since they too were a bit big—he looked… Hell, he looked good. Surprisingly casual and—

Ricardo turned his attention toward the coffeepot before his mind could start tacking on words like “hot” and “fuckable.” August was objectively hot. Someone Ricardo would have definitely hooked up with if he stumbled across him on an app. The problem was when he started talking and ruined the whole illusion that he was a bearable human being.

At least remembering that would help Ricardo stay focused on things besides how fun it would be to grab a few handfuls of that jersey while he railed August over the back of a chair or—

Okay, fuck, I really need to get back to getting laid on a regular basis.

He shook himself, poured a cup of coffee, and stepped away so August could get some.

As he cautiously took a sip, he stole a glance. August still looked ready to collapse, but the jersey-and-jeans look had Ricardo wide awake. Yep, it was definitely time to get back on Tinder and Grindr. Or, well, it would be when he didn’t have some mystery murderer coming after him and August. Ugh, he should’ve known the Lance Baldwin payout was too good to be true.

“So.” August leaned against the counter, coffee cup cradled between his hands. “What’s the plan?”

“Don’t have one yet. I think we should start by figuring out who wanted us both at Lance Baldwin’s place, though. And why.”

August nodded slowly. “I think it’s pretty clear we were both supposed to die or go to prison and then die.” He snorted dryly. “God knows guys like us don’t last long there.”

Ricardo grunted in agreement. Hitmen knew way too much, and going to prison meant either getting shanked by an inmate, strangled by a guard, or “dying of a sudden illness” at the behest of either a crime boss or a powerful politician (same thing, really). Ideally before he had time to testify and say anything damning about anyone. “I was thinking the same—that the idea was for both of us to get killed. And that whoever set it up—Cavalcante or otherwise—had to have known we weren’t likely to work together if we realized we were both there for the same mark.”

With a humorless chuckle, August said, “Joke’s on them—turns out Ricardo Torralba can be a team player.”

Ricardo refused to take the bait. “So who knows we’re not each other’s biggest fans, and would have a reason to put us up to a job like that?”

August tapped his fingers on his coffee cup. “What about Victor?”

Ricardo considered it. Really considered it. “Maybe. But he’s… I mean, he may be good enough at his job to warrant the number three spot on Rate Your Hit, but he tends to prefer doing things himself so he can brag about it. Having us kill each other…” He shook his head. “This isn’t really his style.”

“Yeah?” August watched him. “I mean, okay, you might be right, but think about it—we’re both hitmen. If you wanted to take out two other hitmen without potentially getting yourself caught or killed, what better way to do it than to stick them in the same room, competing for the same contract, and surrounded by well-armed and well-trained security? It’s kind of dirty and totally makes him a coward for not taking us out himself, but at the same time…” He shrugged and wrinkled his nose a bit as he admitted, “If that’s his angle, it’s pretty fucking smart.”

Ricardo thumbed his chin. “Hmm. Now that you mention it… smart and hands off? That does sound like Victor’s style, although keeping so many minions on his payroll is a risky move.”

“Maybe, but from what I’ve heard about Victor, he’s just extra enough to want a small army of minions.”

Ricardo considered it, then admitted, “You’re not wrong. So maybe we should keep him in mind.”

“Oh really? How well do you know this guy, anyway?”

That wasn’t something Ricardo ever wanted to talk about. It was his past, and he barely tolerated talking about his present with people he liked. But August had a right to know what he was potentially up against, and being cagey wouldn’t help