Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72863 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72863 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
“I came to drive, not assist in your fucking work,” he grouses.
“Well, we would have been late, and he could have woken up. So this probably would have gone a lot smoother if you’d just helped.”
“How much are you getting paid for this? You won’t even be the one to kill him.”
I smile and look down at my nails. “Oh, an easy two million,” I tell him, and his head swings around to me.
“Who sets the price?” I’m surprised he’s asking so many questions considering he’s usually the quiet one. Though, I think somewhere along the way, he’s started warming up to me.
“I do. And many factors go into how much I charge for a job. Everything has to be considered before the hit, because I need to know what I’m going up against. The more difficult the hit, the higher the price.”
“What’s the most you’ve ever been paid for a hit?”
I think about that for a few seconds before I remember the senator I took out. “Ten million.”
He slams on the brakes, and the body rolls around in the trunk before I hear what sounds like the guy punching against the trunk’s lid, which means he’s awake.
“Do you plan to take care of that? He needs to be knocked back out since you just woke him up,” I say.
Victor makes no move to get out of the car, so I reach down and grab the steering wheel lock. Who the fuck has a steering wheel lock in their car these days? I get out and pop the trunk. Immediately, the guy tries to jump out at me, but I block his swing and punch him straight in the temple, and he drops like a bag of shit. He’s hard to get back in the trunk correctly so I can close it, but when I finally get him situated, I shut the lid, walk back to the passenger side, and get in.
“You get paid a lot of fucking money.”
“I didn’t at first. It took quite a while for me to earn my reputation and get paid the amount of money I do,” I say proudly. Because I’m proud of how far I’ve gotten. No one knows the work I had to put in to get where I am, and no one can take that away from me.
Victor asks me a few more questions on the drive back to the forest, and I answer every single one. Other than that, we hardly speak, and our friend in the trunk wakes back up again, but this time we don’t bother pulling over because we know he can’t get out.
When we come to the end of the long dirt road, we find the Forsaken members standing there, but there’s no sign of Rolland’s body.
Boston strides over and opens the passenger door for me, then glances at the back of the car when he hears a thumping sound.
“Went well?” he asks.
“Splendid! Would have gone faster if Victor had helped,” I say, getting out.
“I did help,” Victor argues.
“After watching me struggle to pull the body for a good twenty minutes,” I shoot back.
“It was entertaining,” he says.
I walk around to the back of the car, and Boston stands next to me as I press the button to unlock the trunk. The guy doesn’t try to jump out and hit me this time.
I don’t generally ask about the purpose of a hit. But sometimes the file I’m given contains all the information Carrie has on why a client orders a hit. I’m not one to judge what someone else needs and wants, so most of the time I don’t bother reading it. But on the ride over to collect this guy, I skimmed over the reason. It was his wife who hired me. It seems he is quite abusive, not only to her, but also to their children. He also has a lot of money, so he can afford lawyers to take the kids from her.
His eyes are somehow a mixture of wild and wary as he takes in his surroundings. I don’t blame him. Usually, I just kill the target. But because I’m a good wife, I wanted to make my husband and his friends happy so they might like me.
I turn and look at Boston, who doesn’t take his eyes off the guy in the trunk. “I think I love you,” I tell him, my heart pounding in my chest. His hand finds mine, and he squeezes it, but he doesn’t say it back. It stings a little, but I try to keep that to myself.
A few members wander closer, this time with their masks on. I notice even Victor has put one on. It appears Boston and I are the only two without masks.
This time Victor reaches in and happily removes the guy, who tries everything in his power to get out of his grasp. Victor is a big fucking man, and I don’t think the guy is going to be able to overpower him.