Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84913 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84913 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
From trainee to master.
Maybe normal people would think it was a fucked up thing to want to be a master in. But I wanted to be a master.
At taking lives.
At sending them back to hell where they belonged.
I ate plain toast to keep my stomach settled.
I took another makeshift bath.
I re-buzzed my head.
I put on a tank top then a long-sleeved tee, the jeans Holden had picked up for me in the men's department so they fit just the right kind of saggy.
The plan was to appear like a dude.
And to get in the doors with Holden doing the same.
And then taking over.
I shrugged on a leather jacket, checking out my reflection in the window, both relieved and a little bothered by the fact that I could pass for a guy. A pretty guy, but a guy nonetheless.
Hearing Holden's door close, I took a deep breath, moving out into the gym, waiting for him to open the door.
"What's this?" I asked when he handed me something wrapped in a brown bag from the supermarket.
"Birthday present, I guess you can call it," he said, shrugging it off. "Careful, it's sharp," he added when I eagerly went to reach inside.
It was.
Sharp.
So fucking sharp.
And beautiful in a lethal sort of way.
A double-bladed hunting karambit.
It had a slightly curved wooden handle in the center for your hand and then two fierce curved blades- one that went across the fronts of your knuckles, the other that curved around the back of your hand.
Making you deadly in both directions.
"Wow."
"Just a glide across the skin will cause major damage."
With that and nothing else, we climbed in his truck.
In utter, almost unbearable silence, we drove four hours to our destination, an old warehouse from some bygone era when it had helped employ local townspeople.
Lots of windows.
Lots of exits.
Lots of ways for things to go sideways really quickly.
We'd trained for this, I reminded myself.
I could do it.
I had to do it.
I didn't get much time to let my fears get to me. Because as soon as Holden cut the engine, he was climbing out and making his way down the street we had parked on for protection, making his way toward our destination.
"Women are in there getting raped as we speak," he mumbled to me as we got close, as I felt my body tensing, my stomach plummeting.
He knew I needed to hear it.
He knew how the mere mention of that reality made my vision go red with rage.
It burned through my system savagely, singeing everything in its wake.
We each made our way to the door, giving the code we'd agreed to online at separate times, looking like we didn't know each other.
And just like that, we were led inside.
"You can each pick a girl and then we will talk money. More for certain things, you know."
Oh, I knew.
More for virgins.
More for 'spirited' girls who would put up a fight.
More for younger.
More for tag-teaming.
More for certain kinks.
More to rough them up.
My fire didn't need more kindling.
But every slimy word out of his mouth made me burn hotter.
Until I simply got engulfed when he opened a door showing us a row of unclothed women. Some drugged. Some lost in their own minds. A few openly crying.
And that was it.
Any worries I had about my ability to get the job done disappeared as I reached into my pocket, slid my hand around my new double blade, pivoted, and swung my arm out.
He didn't even have time to gasp before the knife dug in, casting arterial spray across my chest and the side of Holden's shoulder.
Holden didn't move to act at first, to go back outside to handle the other men we'd crossed paths with.
He shushed the women with a finger to his lips.
They had no reason to trust us, but they seemed to understand without us saying anything that we were there to save them, to get them free.
The sound of the body slamming to the ground, breathless, dead, was what triggered others to rush inside.
There was no thinking, just action, just pure instinct that Holden had drilled into me for the past two years.
Four men were on the ground in the single room in the span of a few short moments. Three dead, one gasping for a few final breaths.
"Are there more?" Holden spoke, not the least winded while I gasped for some air. Not as badly as I once would have, but enough to annoy me, make me vow to take up some more cardio.
"One," the tallest and oldest of the women declared, desperately trying to cover her nude body. There was nothing in the room, no modesty I could give them. There would be time to comfort them later, though. We needed to finish the job we came to do.
"You lead," Holden demanded, jerking his chin toward the door. "You all stay here until we say it is safe," he added to the women, getting a firm nod from the tall woman.