Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 115964 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115964 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 580(@200wpm)___ 464(@250wpm)___ 387(@300wpm)
You were all in or all out. And all out meant death.
I wasn’t ready to die, not yet.
I still had shit to do.
So I’d shrugged. “What’s the point?”
He’d grunted, his mouth curving up in a slight grin.
That’d been the only time I saw Raize come close to smiling, and it wasn’t even a half-smile. It’d been a hint of a smile, like a glimmer and then poof—it was gone. He’d returned to being scary the next second when he’d pulled a gun out and aimed it at the guy in front of him in the car.
I sat behind the driver. Raize was behind the front passenger.
There was no warning.
He’d put the end of his gun against the headrest and pulled the trigger—I’d missed the silencer on top.
White fuzz and blood went everywhere. The guy’s body slumped forward.
Raize had settled back, cleaning his gun. He’d wiped blood from his face and hands.
The car made a turn and pulled over in an alley.
“You want?”
My heart had been in my damn throat, my body on the razor’s edge of flight or fight. Everything around me had intensified. Colors were brighter. Voices were louder. Stronger. I was on a stimulus overload, so it had taken a second to realize that as the driver opened his door, Raize offered me a piece of cloth—the same one he’d just used to clean his gun and face. He had folded it back so a clean section faced out.
He held it up. “We’re going to stop for food. If your face isn’t clean, you can’t come.”
Of course.
Food.
With blood on me.
That wasn’t good.
I’d shaken myself out of the weird state I was in and reached for the cloth.
The driver had walked around, opened the front passenger seat door, and taken the dead body out of the car.
I’d started to wipe my face.
Raize had been watching, seeming almost bemused by me. Then he’d offered up some alcohol.
I’d been confused, but hell, I’d figured it might help at this point.
I took the bottle and dipped my head back, taking a long drink. The burn was good, warming.
Raize had frowned. “You need it to wash your face. The blood is caking. I don’t have anything else to offer you.”
Oh.
Oh!
I’d snorted and poured some of the whiskey onto the washcloth. I’d never needed alcohol to wash my face before. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen someone executed in front of me, but it was the first time Raize had killed a man in front of me, and the first time I’d used alcohol as a cleanser.
New things.
Exciting.
By the time I’d finished, the driver had returned.
He’d leaned over, grabbed some wipes from inside one of the car’s compartments, and started cleaning off the dashboard, the seat, everything around him. He’d used one to clean his face as well, and then he’d looked back at us.
“Chicken nuggets?”
Raize had grunted again, settling back, and we’d gone to get chicken nuggets.
I never asked why that guy was killed. No questions. It was a rule, but in working for Raize, I had learned that he didn’t kill unless there was a reason. A further ‘problem’ that might happen. There’d been no warning that first night when he’d killed the guy in the car. So as Raize stared at Henchman One now, I was ready.
His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, the guy kneeling seemed forgotten.
Raize lifted his gun toward Henchman One. “You got a big mouth on you?”
This guy was fucked. He’d be a ‘problem’ and Raize knew it in the way he worded that question.
I also knew what else was coming.
My stomach clenched in preparation.
The guy swallowed. I could see the sweat pouring off of him. His hands twitched, and he shifted his feet around, the plastic crackling underneath him. “No. No, sir. No, boss.”
“You’ve been having a lot to say.” Raize’s gaze was cold, but there was a twitch beside his mouth, and he turned his eyes to me. “You.”
Fuck.
But I’d known.
He nodded toward Henchman One. “He gonna be a problem for me?” he asked me.
Shit.
Fuck.
Shit.
Fuck.
This. This was what I did for these men. It was something they’d learned right away. Or almost right away. When they asked me a question, I always knew the answer in my gut, and I hated it.
Hated it. Hated. It.
I hated being the reason there’d be another body to clean up today.
“Girl!”
I jerked at Raize’s bark and answered, because if I wanted to remain alive, I had to be truthful. “Yes.”
I’d barely gotten the word out before bang!
Henchman One’s body fell against the door behind him, then slid to the side and down, a dark, red hole smack in the middle of his forehead. His eyes remained wide, as if watching us, but he was gone.
Raize was an ace shot.
I bit back my remorse. Dammit. But I’d told the truth because this guy would’ve been a problem. When I’d gone against my gut in the past, I was always proven wrong, and my bosses tended to get pissed at me.