Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 114260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
“Jesus,” Violet moans behind me. I look over my shoulder at her.
“What?”
“There’s nothing that makes me want to fall to my knees and suck your cock more than seeing you suiting up for a job.” She feigns swooning before she sits on the edge of the bed to tug her boots on.
“Wish I could say the same for you,” I say, as she slides her new knife into her ankle sheath before she reaches for her new Wilson.
“I know, I know,” she says with an eye roll. “Watching me get my weapons makes you want to… I dunno, handcuff me to your bed or something.”
“Don’t need the threat of a weapon to bring out the handcuffs.”
She smiles and gives me a coy look.
“Alright, where to first?” she asks, as she heads to the bathroom and quickly fixes her hair and makeup. “Pastor What’s-his-name?”
“Yep. See what he has to tell us.”
Suddenly, she pops her head out of the bathroom, her toothbrush shoved into the side of her mouth. “Way a mim,” she mumbles.
“Huh?”
She takes her brush out of her mouth. “Wait a minute. Now wait a minute. Cain, what’s the typical payout for a hit?”
I shrug, testing the safety on my Ruger. “Hugely varied. Could be ten thousand, could be ten mil. Why?”
“Your rules went through my mind while I slept.”
I nod, pleased. It’s partly why I went over the rules before we went to bed. She’s fucking brilliant, and her mind works even when she’s at rest. I knew she’d wake and have them memorized.
“Yeah?”
“Assassins get paid up front. Right?”
“Yes.”
“Like there’s no assassin layaway plan or credit or anything. Cash only.”
“Right.”
“And… they get paid lots. Last I checked, the average annual salary of a typical assassin was about eighty million dollars a year.”
I nod. “Right.”
She throws her hands up in the air. “Then… where’s my parents’ money? If my father was an assassin… he was worth money. Big money. Right?”
I nod. “And if you weren’t supposed to exist, and no one knew they had a child…” my voice trails off.
“Right?”
“I’ll call Joe. Put him on it.”
If she has money owed to her and someone fucking took it…
She nods, heading back to the bathroom, and soon we head out. She takes a minute before we go to get to her knees and pat Romulus and Remus, kissing each of their furry heads.
“You are crazy about those dogs.”
“You know I love them.”
I watch as the two dogs moon over her when she leaves. Hell, everyone moons over her.
We all love Violet.
I hate the thought of her leaving. When she’s found what she needs to… when she’s completed the job she was supposed to… what then?
My phone rings, and I go to silence it, when I see it’s the Salem police.
“Hello?” I answer the phone as I open Violet’s door.
A loud, high-pitched voice comes over the speaker.
“Mr. Master. It’s me. I’ve been trying to reach you for three days.”
For fuck’s sake, I forgot the PD puts calls from the jail through their secure line, no doubt so they can tap them.
“Have you?” I don’t miss the way Violet’s eyes narrow as she snaps her seat belt shut and mouths who’s that? I shake my head and head to the driver’s seat.
“I told you I couldn’t help you immediately and would need some time.” I hear something in the background, and a series of clicks.
“I paid you all my inheritance for your help!”
I blow out a breath and try to speak patiently, though I want to hang the fucking phone up. “And I’ll help you as best I can, but allow me to remind you, you’ve been taken into custody, have you not?”
“I have! And I need you to get me out of here. You’re the only one with enough clout that you could do it.”
“I’m sorry. That’s way beyond my pay grade. My team will be in touch.”
“Mr.—”
I hang up the phone.
Violet stares out the window for a moment in silence while I type in the minister’s number on my phone.
“Desperate much?”
“Tell me about it. Jesus.”
“Something’s off about her, Cain.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re just jealous.”
“I am not just jealous. And holy shit. What is that?”
I look in my rearview mirror and groan. Doesn’t anyone listen to me?
“You… weren’t supposed to see that yet,” I say, shaking my head. “Jesus.”
Her jaw drops. “You are holding out on me! Oh my God. You bought another truck and didn’t tell me?”
She doesn’t know because the goddamn truck’s for her.
“They weren’t supposed to bring it yet,” I say, backing up so we can leave.
“Oh my God, I want to touch it. Plllleeeease. Pretty, pretty please, can I touch it?” She runs her hand along the dashboard of my truck, as if to appease herself.
“When we get back,” I promise, then add in a teasing voice, “if you behave yourself. Now tell me where to go.”