The lady actually looked surprised by my answer.
"I said no. My life is pretty screwed up, but not that screwed up."
Sure, I was walking away from a lady with a killer bod, but she obviously didn't have the killer brains to go with it, the latter of which was what actually kept folks like me alive on the streets.
Assassinate Crimson Snake, the biggest cheese of big cheeses in the gang world.
As if I was looking for a death sentence. That guy was armed to the teeth with an escort of ten bodyguards all armed to the teeth. And that was when he was in his fortress of a house.
Whenever he was outside was a whole other kettle of fish. Piranhas most likely.
I turned slowly, shrugging.
"Sorry lady, I don't do kills like that, hear?"
"What if I told you that you'd work with someone that does?"
The lady put two fingers into her mouth and whistled, shortly followed by another, thinner woman emerging from the shadows, dressed unassumingly in a grey hoodie and old jeans.
She bowed at the waist towards the blonde and then me, quickly moving to put her small hands into her pockets.
Odd, to say the least.
"Who's this?" I asked, puzzled.
Grey hoodie looked to the blonde for approval before speaking.