Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 49989 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 250(@200wpm)___ 200(@250wpm)___ 167(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49989 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 250(@200wpm)___ 200(@250wpm)___ 167(@300wpm)
He liked the rain. It always helped to come down and wash away all the blood that soaked the floor or bodies.
He couldn’t stay in his car all night.
This was a job.
A hit.
Stepping out of his car, he kept to the shadows, not knowing what faced him. Boss hadn’t given him any other information other than he believed he wanted to be the one to deal with this. What he wanted to be was handling the shooter.
That was where he wished to be.
Not here. Not dealing with the unknown. Although for many years, this was exactly what he’d been dealing with. The unknown.
Boss had handed out many assignments over the years. Most of them with a warning of death. He’d always taken them.
Had Boss done this on purpose?
Priest didn’t always understand the leader of Killer of Kings. The guy had so much going on, it was hard to get a clear visual on exactly the kind of man he was.
When he finally got married, Priest thought he understood him better, but he didn’t. The woman Boss was married to, Widow Maker, was a deadly assassin. She had once worked for the Circle of Monsters, and now she actually worked with Boss.
They were not employer or employee. Husband and wife. A team.
He couldn’t help but think about Cleo. He missed her so damn much. Wanted to make everything right for her.
Was this what Boss was trying to do? Give him a taste of what he’d be missing out on? To make a choice between Cleo or Killer of Kings?
Several of the guys who worked for Boss had found their soul mates. They were able to do both. Why not him?
Priest stood at the hotel room door and typed in the code he’d memorized. A buzz followed, and he pushed against the door. It opened instantly.
He checked the main wall to see the layout of the apartments, then took the stairs. He hated taking elevators and often avoided them when he was on a mission. They were only good for the element of surprise when he knew the complete layout of the land.
In this situation, he didn’t know anything. This wasn’t the first time that he’d been on a mission like this, but it certainly was the first one where he felt a little … uneasy.
Why?
Priest took the steps, holding his gun ready, checking each stairwell. He didn’t like the shadows. He was used to lurking in them, and now, they held potential enemies who wanted him dead.
Rounding the corner, he aimed his gun up, getting ready to shoot, but there was no one there, so he cleared the first floor.
This was a standard job right now. Nothing high risk. Or at least, nothing of a higher risk. He didn’t get it.
Then her face flashed in his mind.
Cleo.
The woman who entered his world in a talking heatwave. The one he couldn’t get out of his head, nor did he want to. Fuck, he was in love with her.
Was she why he suddenly felt uneasy? He was a trained killer. Had lots of hits under his belt. So many he’d lost count. There was a point in the early days of training and killing, building a reputation for himself, where he did in fact keep score.
He’d list every single name. Add up all the kills.
Then, he didn’t know exactly what happened, but he stopped. There was nothing for him to prove anymore.
Gritting his teeth, he stepped onto the floor where his target was supposed to be located.
It was all clear. This was bad. He felt it swirling in his gut. To not encounter a single hit or bullet, or potential attack, told him all he needed to know. Something bad was waiting for him in that fucking room.
All he could think about was Cleo. He loved her with all of his fucking heart. A heart he had thought was long gone. Decimated by everything that had happened to him, and the life he’d lived.
Standing to the side of the room where his life might be ended, he thought about Cleo.
Boss would only ever send him on a mission right now to protect her life. This was for Cleo. This wasn’t about him.
Closing his eyes, he counted to ten, and then he did it all over again.
Love made people do crazy things.
He slid the key into the lock and twisted, and that sound alone had him gritting his teeth. What was waiting for him?
Did he want to die?
He would do anything to save Cleo, so he turned the handle and let the door open. Holding his gun, he paused and frowned.
A man was waiting for him. One he recognized.
Target sat on the edge of the bed. The fucker was covered in blood, but in his hand, he held a file.
“What the fuck is going on?” Priest asked.