Page 1 of The Monster’s Weakness

Chapter One

Caleb Reyes slipped a fully loaded 9mm into his shoulder holster, then adjusted his jacket. He was usually pretty neutral when it came to contracts, but he’d enjoy this one. He shuffled through the paperwork on his desk. His target was Harry Pembroke of Pembroke Pharmaceuticals. The piece of shit was a parasite, profiting off the suffering of society. They had the power to heal so many, but would rather stand on the sidelines and let them die—like his mother.

He knew Harry stayed late at work every Thursday night to cheat on his wife. Caleb knew all his routines, habits, and even how he took his coffee. When he took a contract, he was very thorough. This one would pay out 2.5 million, so he didn’t want to risk fucking it up.

Everything was planned down to the minute. He checked his watch. In six minutes, he’d head to the high rise. Whoever ordered this hit wanted as little collateral damage as possible, but Caleb couldn’t guarantee that. If anyone knew him, they were well aware that he handled business with a bang. He was often the last resort when plans went south, because although messy, he’d get shit done.

He added extra clips and everything else he’d need into his backpack, slid some blades into their sheaths, and then grabbed his favorite black ski mask. It was comfortable and breathable. With all the cameras in the building and area, he needed to be anonymous.

Twenty-two minutes later, he was in the elevator at Pembroke Pharmaceuticals, heading up to the penthouse floor. His mind was blank. The only thing passing through his thoughts were potential takeout options for dinner.

The elevator doors dinged when he hit the top floor, and he stepped out into the posh lobby to Harry’s office. The secretary had already left over two hours ago. It was just the two of them. Of course, Harry would be expecting his date for the night, not the Grim Reaper.

As he walked through the lobby, he noted the cameras absolutely everywhere. He’d need to be fast with this hit, in and out. One bullet was all he needed to waste, then he’d just have to decide where to stop for food after. Sometimes he’d work with others or have to team up with other men in his field, but it wasn’t often. When he did, sometimes they’d ask him if he ever got scared or if he ever wanted more out of life.

The truth was he was never afraid, even in the most critical situation. He always felt in control and ready to do anything necessary to complete his task. When it came to wanting more, Caleb was numb right down to the marrow. He couldn’t want more out of life when absolutely nothing mattered to him. Not anymore.

Maybe that made him dangerous.

Maybe it made him a monster.

He still couldn’t care less.

Caleb paused in front of the double wooden doors. He took a cleansing breath, palming his weapon and reaching for the door handle.

He flung open the door, leaving it wide open, and stepped inside the massive office. There were floor-to-ceiling windows and the city had the backdrop of a pink sky, warning darkness wasn’t far off. It would aid him as he left the building.

As he was about to reach into his jacket for his gun, he caught movement in his peripheral vision. He grabbed his 9mm and whirled around to the right, aiming with both arms stretched out.

What the fuck?

There was a woman standing there with a gun pointed at him. She must have been right behind the door when he’d opened it. She was short and stacked, with red hair and freckles. If anything, she looked like a school librarian, not a killer.

He holstered his weapon and put up his arms, slowly walking toward her.

“That’s far enough,” she said. But she stuttered.

Caleb smiled even though she wouldn’t see it with his mask hiding his identity. In two seconds, he’d disarmed her and held her own gun against her. She looked utterly shocked, not able to process what just happened. He’d been in this business for a long time.

“Are you his whore?” Caleb asked.

Her mouth fell agape. “What? No! I’m here to kill him.”

Interesting. This was supposed to be an exclusive contract. No way was he giving away 2.5 million out of the goodness of his heart. And if that was up for debate, he’d be using two bullets tonight.

He palmed the weapon, which was too light, in his opinion. After a quick examination, he realized it was a fucking toy gun. So, if she wasn’t Harry’s entertainment for the night, and she wasn’t a contract killer, who was she?

“How you going to do that with a plastic gun?” He tossed it on the tiles in front of her and part of it snapped off.

Her chest was rising and falling rapidly.

“Who are you?” He grabbed his very real gun. “Tell me now or join him.”

“I work here. In accounting.”

“Okay...”

He watched as her eyes filled with unshed tears. “I’ve worked here for three years and my medical was cut last month. I can’t afford my MS meds. I’ve done everything I can, nobody will listen. I’m desperate,” she said.