Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 102942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
I cry and cry, tears streaming down my face as someone grabs me. “Miss, how did the door get jammed? Who did it?”
I let out an exaggerated wail, my heart all but falling out of my chest and splattering against the sterile hospital linoleum, and honestly, with the amount of tears welling in my eyes, I can’t even tell if it’s a man or woman holding on to me.
“Save him,” I sob, clutching onto the person’s arm and squeezing, snot now starting to run as I excel in my performance, knowing there’s not a chance in hell they will revive that man. “Please! Save my uncle.”
The person, who I now see is a woman, looks between me and Preston before cringing and deciding to let me go, assuming they’ll be able to question me once the situation is under control, and the second all eyes fall away, I slip out of the room and run for the fucking hills, a shouted clear echoing down the hallway behind me.
Getting back to my apartment complex in no time, I’m filled with nothing but steaming hot rage. I’m not just going to kill him, I’m going to gut him like a goddamn fish, and I’ll enjoy every second of it.
Pulling into the underground parking garage, I don’t even bother to glance up as I pass the horizontally parked Audi across my parking space and continue on to my new space of 410, only the once vacant space is now occupied by hundreds of empty moving boxes.
I scream until my throat hurts, slamming my hands against the steering wheel and trying to sort through just a fraction of the frustration that burns through me.
I stare at the boxes, not willing to get out of my car and move them, so instead, I simply back up and double park Raiden, leaving absolutely no way for him to get out of his ridiculous little spot, not without at least taking out both my car and his in the process. And in that case, I dare him. If anybody is going to take out my car, it’ll be me.
Satisfied that I’ve at least done something to get back at him, I make my way up the emergency stairs, not having the patience to stand still and wait for the elevator, and just as I reach the third floor, my phone rings.
Taking the call, I immediately hear Milan’s voice in my ear. “What the fuck is going on? Did you accept a local job for a hundred grand?”
“Yep.”
“Wait. What? This doesn’t make sense,” she says, just as I approach Raiden’s door and come to an immediate stop. “Did you do it or what? Because some other agency is claiming they completed the hit.”
“I’m gonna have to call you back.”
“Wha—”
My foot slams against the door, and the wood splinters just as mine had yesterday, only this time, I can guarantee, I won’t be the one cleaning the mess.
Storming straight into Raiden’s apartment, I find him leaning up against the kitchen counter, as though he’d been waiting for me to come looking, and as I storm right up to him, he just smirks. “Something you need, Firecracker?”
The rage is like nothing I’ve ever known, and as I grab his shoulders, I jump, flying right up into his strong arms and locking my legs around him. “Fuck me, you giant asshole, and you better make it hard.”
And with that, he turns on his heel and walks straight into his bedroom, my lips already crushing down on his.
CHAPTER 19
RAIDEN
We’ve been going at it for a month now, and it’s the best fun I’ve ever had. And I don’t mean fucking like rabbits. Though we’ve more than been doing that, too. I mean, showing up at each other’s hits and taking the fucking limelight.
My job has always been something that I’m just good at. It’s never been something that I actively look forward to. Until now. The idea of Kiara showing up just to fuck with me shouldn’t satisfy me this way, but it does, and I’m fucking obsessed because she wouldn’t come if she didn’t care. I’m living rent-free in that pretty little head of hers, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Kiara St. James doesn’t waste time on things that don’t matter, and I . . . I matter more than she will ever care to admit.
Fuck, she’s stubborn. The way she tells me that she hates me while also screaming my name. There’s simply nothing like it.
Though one thing is for sure, over this past month, I’ve been able to redeem myself, leaving my treasured rifle in my storage unit, and as she calls it, getting my fucking hands dirty.
And that’s exactly what I’ve done, over and over again.
At first, she claimed I’d gotten lucky, that my first couple of steals came down to nothing but sheer timing. After the fourth and fifth time that I’d consecutively and effortlessly stolen her hits, she started to realize that maybe this isn’t dumb luck, and that I simply am that good. Hell, good enough to rival that beloved legend of hers, the Iron Viper.