Total pages in book: 18
Estimated words: 16186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 81(@200wpm)___ 65(@250wpm)___ 54(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 16186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 81(@200wpm)___ 65(@250wpm)___ 54(@300wpm)
It is not lost on me that I should be scared. I should be hesitant, fearful, and smart about this. I shouldn’t be doing this alone and I know that, but the reality is, I am alone. I am the only one left to seek retribution for my father.
In the six weeks I have been here, I discovered who actually pulled the trigger that ended his life. Ruslan Popov. Sure, it was at the order of Romeo DeSantis, an order given in exchange for pieces of the DeSantis empire all over the U.S., but it is the hand that carried it out that I am most interested in. I know Aurora and her family will take care of Romeo. But this one, this one is mine.
I wait a little longer, glad when two of the men get in cars and leave. I know this is likely my only chance of having fewer of them inside and makes my chances better of getting out alive.
Deciding it is now or never, I pull both guns, from my back and the other from my ankle. I check and make sure everything is ok. I put four of my throwing stars in my belt, and grab my knife. My car is tucked away by a wall, with the vantage point on me, but it can be visible if they look close enough.
I get out of the car, pull my hood up and begin walking toward the building when a hand around my mouth and one around my waist, has me kicking, reaching for my belt so I can stab whoever this is. “Shhh. Calm down, Angel. It’s me.” His voice whispering in my ear deflates the fight in me, briefly, until I am pissed again wondering how the fuck he found me.
His hand moves from my mouth, and I try to calm myself. “Put me down, agent.” Please before I ruin your shoes, is the thing I don’t say. My feet touch the ground again and I whip around, arms crossed, clearly pissed off. Do you know what he does? He smiles and pulls me into his arms.
“Fuck, I missed you baby.” Damn it. I don’t uncross my arms, but I am not pushing him away. The truth is being in his arms is the single best feeling in the world and right now, having him in front of me is soothing. It is like my heart has slowed down.
“What are you doing here?” I ask him, trying not to give away how happy I am to see him.
“I am here for you, baby. To tell you this is an ambush, but given how cautious you have been and how much havoc you have wrecked here, you must already know that.”
“I knew it before I got here. My tech guy was compromised.”
“Yes. That is also how I found you,” he says running his hands through his hair.
“Hiram? You got it from Hiram? How did…" I didn't finish the question. I don’t have to. His expression tells me everything. “You didn’t have to kill him, Callum.”
“He was a risk. He put you in danger. He had to be dealt with.” Why does that make me feel all warm and throbby?
“How did you find me today?”
“I have been following your trail of bodies, baby. You have been a busy girl.” He clicks his tongue, mock reprimanding me. He is not wrong. Besides the guy I offed earlier, I have taken out two more in six weeks.
“Whatever. I don’t have time for this. You should leave. You don’t want to be here for this.” He looks at me like I am crazy.
“I am going nowhere. You can’t really…” he doesn’t finish his statement. A car comes barreling down the street. I hear shouting in Russian. Before I can grab my gun, shots are fired at us and then all hell breaks loose.
EIGHT
CATRIONA
Callum lights up the guys in the car, shouting for me to run. A fucking joke. Like that is going to happen. Hearing the gunfire, I see Ruslan and his men come running out of the building and then a red mist comes over me. Setting eyes on the man who murdered my father sends me to another place. A place where there is no one but me and him.
I watch recognition cross his face before he reaches for his weapon. I have no idea what is happening behind me with Callum, but right now, my attention is on the man who killed my father and took my family from me.
I fire my gun, aiming right for his head and miss. Bullets whizz past me, not soliciting an ounce of fear from me or recognition of what is happening. I can’t see past my own rage and moment. I move from behind the wall and walk right in his line of sight. His man to my left aims, I turn briefly and shoot him in the chest before turning to Ruslan. “You have come to the devil to die, bitch.” He says in his thick Russian accent. For a quick second I concede his questions and think he might be right, but then my mind tells me I have something to live for inside of me and I snap out of it.