“Yes, well, if you would prefer me to demand land, a house, cattle, horses, pigs, a farm…”
“The money is yours.”
The corners of the general’s lips are twitching. She’s trying to remain her stern, impassive self, but she’s failing a bit.
“Thank you very much.” I start toward the door as she actually had me come to one of their more permanent bases instead of a tent this time. Before I leave, I hesitate and then turn back around. “Do you think you’ll be using my services again?”
“You do excellent work. If there’s another bounty, I think I know your number.”
I grin, nod, pat the doorframe, and leave.
Collecting friends in high places is always a good idea, but I don’t just collect friends. If you do something for me, I will bend over backward for you.
But if you cross me, there will be hell to pay. I’m black and white like that.
With a whistle on my lips, I drive myself to my place and add the briefcase to the cache I already have underneath the floorboards of my bed. As one of the bounty hunters under the employ of the Global Countries of Earth, I’m trying to save up to have places for myself in as many countries around the world as I can. That way, wherever I need to go, I’ll have a home. I don’t like staying at hotels. I prefer to be in a place that I know the entire layout. Too many shady people can come and go at hotels, and weapons are frowned upon. I usually only have weapons for protective purposes. I don’t tend to use them unless necessary, but in order to use them, I have to have them in the first place.
I do take out some bills, though. The last time I went out to a restaurant, I wanted to have a decent meal, but more importantly, I wanted to drink. I don’t drink often, but after everything with Hook and Bull, I needed something and something hard. Ever since, I’ve been making my own meals, cooking at home. I try a new recipe every week. Yes, I’m only cooking for one, but I like to enjoy my food. While I joked with the general about livestock and land, I actually wouldn’t mind being able to grow my own food, although growing crops might be easier than dealing with the animals.
But a farm like that would require a lot of upkeep, and I just don’t have the time for that. I usually don’t take more time off between jobs than a week. Two at the absolute most. Some might call me a workaholic, and they wouldn’t be wrong. I just like to do my part, to keep the world safe. The bounties are out for terrible people for one reason or another, and yes, it’s dangerous, but as Bull and Hook can no longer tell you, I’m dangerous too.
I really need to stop thinking about Bull and feeling so guilty. I need to move on. It's not as if I haven't killed before because I have.
But there had always been a bounty out on the person before.
If I let them go, there’s no doubt in my mind that everything would’ve played out as I mentioned—that they would’ve tried to take over Garcia Sagen’s operations. If they did turn into mobsters, there would have been a bounty placed on them then. Mobsters? There’s no place for them in this world. We long for peace, and I help to fight for it.
You know what? I think I'm gonna get myself another drink tonight. I deserve it. The last time I had a payday this big… Never. I never landed this much dough on a single job before. It's amazing. Kind of scary, too, in a way. It makes me feel like I've leveled up in some fashion. It makes me feel like my work is worthwhile, that I'm making a huge difference.
I might not be one of the officers of Madelaine Downing, but I'm still working for her, even if I haven't met her directly.
Yet? Who knows?
I drive into town and park on the street, opting to walk around a bit to find a place. There’s one with Mexican food, and I enjoy a few margaritas while I’m at it. I’m feeling good by the time I walk out of there. I’m buzzed, not drunk, and I figure I’ll walk home.
It doesn’t take long for me to be past the businesses and the other houses. My place is on the outskirts of town, the outer edge, where there’s more nature around than other signs of human life. I prefer to have some isolation, some solitude. And, just in case shit ever hits the fan, I won’t have to worry about any neighbors getting caught in the crossfire.
“Sophia.”
The voice is low and familiar, and I stop walking and glance over my shoulder to see the blue-skinned, almost green-haired alien heading my way.
“Tox,” I say.
His grin is wicked, as charming as it was during our meal. I have to say that I enjoyed it. He was pleasant enough company. I have friends, of course, but I’m an introvert. I need to be alone to recharge, but when I’m around people I’m comfortable with, I can talk their ears off. Maybe we’ll get to that point eventually, if we keep crossing paths like this.
“Where you off to?” he asks.
“What’s it matter?” I counter.
His grin is even bigger, more wicked, still charming. “Nothing matters to me at all, darling,” he drawls, his words taking on a slight twang that I never would’ve expected to come from a Kurian.
I point to his hair. “I’ve been meaning to ask.”
“What about it?” He runs a hand through his greenish strands. “You want to feel it?”
“No,” I say, even though I do wonder if his hair is as soft as it looks. “I thought Kurians and Novans all had blue hair.”
“For the
