Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 32755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
She smiled. “Ah, you’re getting the aches and pains in your fingers?”
He nodded.
Callie slid across the bench, placed her own knitting down, and then helped him. She put her hands on top of his and started to describe the process of knitting. She explained a knit, showing him repeatedly with his thirty cast-on stitches. That was row one. She then explained the purl stitch, and of course he didn’t have a clue what she was talking about. He’d not done his research other than to the extent of casting on. For several rows, she explained, holding his hands and guiding him.
“Would you like to try?” she asked.
Ruin was a fast learner, which is why he was so feared. There was nothing in this world that took him long to master. He struggled through the knit stitch, but Callie gave a warning gasp, and he remembered how she moved her fingers.
“Very good. You’re a natural.” She patted his arm then slid away from him and picked up her own knitting.
Ruin watched her, curious. She was kind to him, even though she didn’t know him. That was stupid and dangerous, and he couldn’t figure out why she would do that.
“What are you making?” he asked. More rules broken. It wasn’t like he would care about her.
Killing her was the end result, but he wanted more details on Dante.
Callie smiled and reached into her bag, pulled out a couple of prepared arms, and some other weird-looking shapes. “It’s a baby’s cardigan.”
“You have a child?” he asked.
It wasn’t possible. None of his sources had ever confirmed she was a mother. Everything indicated she was a single woman, living alone in the city, working at a boring analytical office. She sat in front of a computer all day, staring at numbers.
“Oh, no, I don’t have a child. I love knitting, and seeing as I have no one to knit for, what I do is make a whole bunch of clothes and then go and donate them to the local hospital. I’ve also done the same with dog clothes, and I donate them to several shelters.”
“Isn’t that a waste?” Ruin asked.
“Why would it be a waste?”
“You’re knitting for other … things.”
She chuckled. “No, a waste would be throwing it away. I love knitting and I love giving so it works for me. Besides, I can’t knit everything for myself. That doesn’t feel right to me.”
“You’re a giver.”
Callie shrugged. “I guess. I’ve never seen it that way.”
Why did Dante want to kill this woman? Ruin didn’t like it. He also didn’t like the fact that he actually cared. She was an assignment. A mission. She would be dead, no doubt about it. But seeing as he had nothing pressing to deal with, he didn’t see a problem with enjoying this … moment … for just a little while longer.
For over an hour, he sat with Callie. She would glance over, help him with his project, and then go back to her own work. Her fingers moved so fast, he couldn’t quite keep up. She was like a machine. He had no choice but to admire her skill.
He noticed that the men and women from the group began to get up and leave. Callie was the only one left and she finished her row, placed her knitting in her bag, and got to her feet. He’d already put his knitting down in his bag.
She turned to him. “It was nice to meet you…”
“Ruin,” he said, holding out his hand.
Callie shook his hand and smiled. “I’m Callie. Erm, I don’t know if I’m going to see you again.”
“You will.” He glanced around the park. “Is this a regular thing?”
“Pretty much. It’s guaranteed on a Sunday. If it’s raining we usually go to the library, but during the summer, it’s a way of soaking up the rays and enjoying the outside. They also meet up Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.”
“When do you come?” he asked.
Was she blushing? She bowed her head and when she looked back up, her face was red.
“As often as I can. I’m a guarantee here on Sundays.”
“I’ll see you Sunday.”
She nodded her head. “Enjoy. Er, bye, Ruin.”
They were alone. Killing her now would be so easy. He already knew no one would miss her. She was part of this group, but she didn’t interact with anyone. Callie Lawson was a nobody. Living her life without really living it.
So why did Dante want this nobody dead? She wasn’t a threat. She lived a boring life. There was no connection to Dante, other than the fact she used to work for him.
He watched her leave and couldn’t help but admire the curve of her ass. It was more than a handful and he knew without a shadow of a doubt he wanted a taste of her.
****
Callie glanced at the clock on her apartment wall and wondered if missing out on a Sunday of knitting was a good idea. It had been a week since she had that bizarre encounter at the park. She’d never made friends easily. All her life, she had found it easier to be on her own.