Delgano: A Dark Contemporary Interracial Romance

The man’s eyes bulged.

“Shh.” He slowly dislodged the knife. “Sleep.”

The man, eyes rolling, crumpled to the ground.

Next, the other man received the same gift.

The remaining rooms were empty, with zero nooks or closets inside that could harbor a hidden target. After verifying that each room was clear, he went to join Hannah, and what sounded like a woman crying and pleading for her life floated from Trevor’s side of the corridor.

“You want to go?” he asked.

Hannah shook her head. “You go ahead. It’s your first field test. Might as well break that knife in.”

He followed the commotion and arrived at a back room where a woman, on her knees, jabbed clasped hands in Trevor’s direction. While he couldn’t understand a word the woman said, Trevor answered her pleas in a language with fluency.

The woman repeatedly touched her forehead to the ground. On a downward bow, Trevor clicked his tongue and jutted his head toward the woman.

Adrían watched as, in between her bows, the woman reached behind her back. Her dress fell apart, revealing a small pistol, but he gave her no time to brandish it. He crept up behind her, firmly held her chin with one hand, and brought the knife across her throat with the other.

One gasp was all she managed.

Trevor’s brows shot up to his hairline.

“What?” Adrían released the woman, and she landed on the floor with a soft thud. “Isn’t that what you wanted me to do?”

“Well, yeah. I guess.”

“What was she speaking?”

“Arabic,” Trevor said. “But there’s something off about it. I don’t think she actually is. If I’m not mistaken, she almost sounded like a Russian speaking Arabic.”

Adrían frowned. “What? Why?”

“Don’t know.” Trevor nodded at the doorway. “Let’s go, kid. I’ll tell you this…you’re definitely an enigma.”

They took one last sweep of the structure, verified that all the targets had been neutralized, and returned to the truck. On the way, Trevor stopped at a convenience store and told them to stay put while he ducked inside.

“Lilly’s in Sweden, right?” Adrían asked.

Hannah, who’d joined him in the cab for the ride back, faced him, her bent leg propped on the seat. “Why, you think he’s going in there to buy condoms?”

“Maybe he has somebody here. A casual thing.”

“Central supplies us with condoms.”

Condoms, he didn’t need.

Sayeda was all his.

“We’re allowed to indulge as long as it doesn’t interfere with our work, but they want to ensure we do so without leaving our DNA all over the globe. Or, in my case, baking some random’s DNA for forty weeks. I opted for hormones, though.” She closed the small gap between them. “Want to use up a roll with me?”

“That’s not why I asked about Lilly,” he clarified. “Just making conversation.”

“We don’t need conversation, babe.” She reached for his zipper, but he stopped her with a hand around her wrist.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m trying to do?”