The two men stared at each other. Assumptions were made, judgments rendered, dicks measured.

Still, I'd do anything for him. Even smear his clotting blood inside the vehicle of his choosing.

I wouldn't say hate, exactly. You're kind of like fungus, Gwen. After a while, you just start growing on people.

Oh, Finn isn’t an assassin,” I cut in. “He’s much, much worse. He’s a banker.

Hope. An emotion that always kept suckering me in, time after time, despite my supposed retirement from the assassin business. Hope. The one thing that always seemed to get me into more trouble than just killing people for money ever had. Ah, hope. Sometimes, I really hated it.

My heart lifted, and a matching grin curved my lips. He wanted to see me again. Maybe he really did like me after all. I felt like doing a happy dance, but of course, I was way too cool for that. I'd at least wait until I got back to my hotel room, alone, where no one would see.

The band geek has liquor?