Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 64640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
I wanted to laugh at the irony of it.
It was straight out of the damn movies.
He killed our neighbor and climbed out the window before he lit a cigarette, took off his mask, and set the house on fire. He spotted me, smirked, and walked over, his hand running through his hair.
“Trying to work out… Should I kill you where you stand, kid,” he’d said, as the house behind him went up like a kindling box, and he paid no attention to it. “But I see that gleam in your eyes.” He leaned in close, slipped me a phone, and whispered, “Do you want to do something dangerous for the rest of your life?”
I pulled back and stared at him.
How did he know?
He didn’t even wait for me to answer as he nodded his head. “Answer when I call.” He walked off, and I never looked back. When he called my phone two days later, I answered. When he said to meet him, I listened. And when I rolled up to the arranged meeting spot, there were five other teenagers there as well. I was the youngest, but that didn’t mean shit.
We were being trained by special operations soldiers, the ones who loved killing so much that when they pulled out of service, they started to do their own dirty shit.
It was the most painful thing I had ever done in my life.
The training was intense, and it took a good year before I was allowed my first kill.
I fucked it up, but Pops—that’s what the man who gave me the phone liked to be called—fixed it.
I never fucked up a kill after that.
A year later, Pops asked about my brothers. He was creating his own army and I was his special soldier.
He figured because he could mold me, my brothers would be great assets as well.
And he was right.
They were.
The three of us became his secret weapons. He stopped training other people after that. The men he had trained before my brothers and me, and even those after, he let go, or possibly killed, I don’t know and don’t care to ask.
Pops was lethal, but I had become even more lethal with time.
And in turn, my brothers did as well.
We were deadly.
Destructive.
Evil.
To this day, we still work for Pops. But he isn’t the only place we get jobs now.
Killing is what we are good at.
Killing is our business.
Why would we limit ourselves to one person who gives us work when we have the whole fucking world at our fingertips?
FOUR
Alaska
Talk about intimidating.
All those men are daunting.
But that one that looks like he walked straight in from an all-black party, with eyes as green as the forest and lips curved into the perfect heart shape, is the most haunting of them all.
A little too intense for me.
“They’re asking for you,” Louise says as I attempt to deliver drinks to my original tables. She goes to take them from me, but I shake my head.
“I need the tips, Louise. Why the fuck do you think I work here? Those men haven’t tipped me anything. My table…” I nod to where my customers are seated, “tip every time I bring them drinks.”
She bites her lip. “Okay, sorry. I’ll tell them you’re busy.” She turns away, and a small part of me feels bad, but I shake it off and march straight past the area with the intense, powerful men, and I don’t spare them a glance as I head to my tables.
My customers grin at me, and one even slaps my ass—fucking bastard. I can’t help the cringe and want to break his hand, but instead, I smile like a good girl because I know he will tip me well. I turn, handing him his drink, and he tips me a hundred-dollar bill and leans up so his smelly breath is next to my ear as he speaks.
“Come on, darlin’, come home with me. I can show you how to ride a cowboy. We can even leave those boots on.”
Talk about ew.
His belly is hanging over his pants, his hair is half missing, his teeth need a good brush with an angle grinder, and he stinks.
The rest, I can deal with.
I’ve fucked a cuddly teddy bear before, and he was the best man to ever give me head. The. Best.
But someone who stinks and has bad breath? That’s a hard no.
I wouldn’t say I’m all that picky.
But I do have standards, and I know what I want.
I don’t want commitment.
I want a man who will throw me against the wall and fuck me good and hard.
This man cannot do that.
Of that, I am sure.
“I’m good, but thanks anyway.” I give my best smile as I turn to leave. He reaches for me again, and I manage to sidestep him as I shift away from their booth. Just as I reach the bottom of the steps with tray in hand, I slam into a hard body. When I peek up, the man from Louise’s table who asked my name is standing before me. He reaches out and steadies me, his hand gripping my waist, so I don’t fall. As soon as I’m stable, his hand drops away from my body like it felt wrong to touch me.