by Sam Crescent
“You know I’d never pull that kind of underhanded shit. The stepfather must have hired him.”
“He hired you. Why would he take out two contracts?” It didn’t make sense. The old bastard was as greedy as they came. Maurice said he’d killed his own wife to inherit her fortune. So why pay two hitmen to knock off the stepdaughter?
“Yeah, that’s one question I intend to find out. If Bernard Sutherland thinks he can hire a cheap hit to get out of paying the five million he owes me, he’s got another thing coming,” said Boss, his voice taking on a sinister edge. “I’ll be in touch. I assume William is no longer with us?”
“You have to ask? Hurry up and get your house together. I don’t want to be here longer than I need to be.” He turned off his cell and shoved it in the pocket of his leather jacket. Now he had to tend to little Miss Pepper. He couldn’t kill her yet, not until he got confirmation he’d be paid in full for the job. So until he got word from Boss, he’d have to lay low with the target.
“Please don’t hurt me,” Pepper whispered, still stomach-down on the floor, propped up on her elbows.
He ignored her.
Viper stood over the dead body, pleased with his kill. Guns and knives were fast and simple, but he hated cleaning up the blood. A broken neck was much easier to deal with. He shrugged off his jacket and hooked it over the back of a chair. Then he bent over and lugged the dead weight of the body up over his shoulder before standing. William was heavier than he looked.
He planned to store the body in the bathtub for now, but he didn’t want Pepper out of his sight for a second. She was a feisty one, and he had no doubt she’d make a break for the door once he left the room. After the long trip to the seaside town, he wasn’t in the mood to go chasing after her.
“Open the bathroom door for me,” he said. When she froze in place, he added, “This guy isn’t light.”
She slowly got up to her feet, never taking her eyes off him. When she flinched, he knew she was injured, but she quickly hid her discomfort. She certainly didn’t look like the pic Boss had sent him. Pepper was no little girl. She was all woman now, with curves that stole his focus—not an easy accomplishment.
He followed behind her. The hotel suite was only one small room, and it smelled mustier than it looked. He already felt claustrophobic.
Pepper wore a long blue sun dress and a thin white sweater buttoned up over it. She was much smaller than he was, but most women were. As she pushed open the bathroom door, he couldn’t help but check out her ass. She was shaped like an hourglass, but she certainly wasn’t one to showcase her body. The only exposed skin was on her wrists and ankles. Pepper was the essence of innocence, but it wasn’t his place to care one way or the other.
It pissed him off when he started to feel—anything—because he’d been taught to remain emotionally vacant under even the harshest of conditions. As much as he despised the fuckers who’d trained him as a child, their lessons were deeply ingrained in the man he was today. He’d been called a cold-hearted bastard too many times to count, but he’d never been offered sympathy, so why should he offer it to anyone else?
He unceremoniously dropped the body into the tub with a hollow thud, and then pulled the shower curtain shut. Viper would deal with removal later. Right now, he needed to secure the hotel room and get his shit together. He hadn’t planned on complications. His hits usually played out like clockwork, in and out, no time to reflect. Now he had to hole up with this girl until he got word from Killer of Kings.
After pulling the bathroom door shut tight, he pointed to the sofa. She followed directions well, taking a seat as told. “Be smart and stay put.”
He locked the front door and peered out the window before tugging the heavy curtains together. A cascade of dust rained to his boots. He scanned the ceiling for any surveillance equipment, but there was nothing, not that he expected anything high tech in this shithole. Viper paced the impossibly small room, feeling like a caged tiger. He remembered the confinement exercises he was forced to endure as a young boy, and the memories both wounded him and soothed him at once. He was one twisted fuck.
“Are you going to kill me?” she asked.
He stopped half-stride, and faced her. By now, his victims usually lacked a heartbeat, so he wasn’t comfortable chatting with a living one. The number one rule that had been drilled into him, one he continued to value, was never to get close to his victims. Not only did it make a killer weak, it gave them a vulnerability for others to exploit.
Viper winked. “We’ll see.”
She didn’t look scared like he expected. Usually people lost their humanity when death was inevitable, promising him anything, or breaking into hysterics. Pepper had a calmness about her that was unusual and intriguing.
“It’s my stepfather, right? He hired you.”
“I don’t discuss business with my targets,” he said.
She kept eying his weapons. Viper was always well strapped.
“Why do you need so many guns?” she asked.
“Why not?” He pulled his Glock from his right holster and twirled in around a finger. She gasped, her body going stiff. “I’m not killing you yet, so relax.” He put the handgun back in place.
Pepper shook her head. “I don’t like guns, but I’m not afraid to die.”
“Everyone’s afraid to die. Trust me, when the time comes you’ll be begging like the rest of them.”
She kept quiet after that, hugging herself, and occasionally touching her face. That piece of shit must have really clocked her good. Her right cheek was already darkening, easily noticeable against her fair skin. He removed his shoulder holster and gun belt, resting them on the dinette table. Viper rolled out his shoulders and cracked his neck to each side. It had been a long day for him. He approached the skittish girl on the sofa, brushing her hair aside to assess the bruising.
“Do you like killing people?” she asked. This girl was too chatty for his liking.
“Where’re you hurt?”
“I’m fine,” she said, leaning away from his touch.
“He hit your face, anything else? Did he fuck you?”
Her mouth fell agape. “No,” she snapped. She looked down now, a mix of shyness and embarrassment. He twirled a lock of her hair around his finger. She was cute when mad, like an angry kitten, and his teasing had the desired effect. Pepper smacked his hand.
He knelt down on one knee in front of her, snatching both her wrists in one of his fists when she attempted to swat him again. “Brave little thing. I guess you’re used to getting your way, aren’t you, princess?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He scoffed. “I hear you were raised with a silver spoon in your mouth. It’ll make killing you a hell of a lot easier. So, yeah, I might enjoy this.” Viper couldn’t stand rich bitches. But more than anything, he was looking to get a rise out of Pepper.
“You know nothing about me,” she said, futilely trying to tug her arms back. “I haven’t done anything wrong!”
Viper stared at her, while holding her steady. Such a waste to kill her, he thought. Her blue eyes had flecks of gold, and her blonde hair fell over her shoulders in long, loose waves. She looked like a fucking angel, and what was he? A devil? Something about her brought down his hackles. Part of him wished this was a rescue mission and not a hit.
“What made you run?” he asked. It was a legitimate question. He wanted to know how this innocent girl could get caught up in such a mess. It was hard to imagine a delicate thing like her surviving on her own, with no one to protect her.
She didn’t answer right away, her eyes welling up with unshed tears. “He started beating me, making my life miserable. If I told my mother, he said he’d kill both of us. It got so bad that I had no choice but to leave. I only found out about my mom from the news.”
This time he let her have her arms back. She cupped her face with her hands and started crying, a floodgate unleashed. She was more upset remembering her mother’
s death than the fact he planned to kill her. He couldn’t even imagine what it would feel like to be that attached to one person. Her emotional outburst made him uncomfortable, so he walked to the other side of the room to check his cell phone. Still no damn call from Boss. Pepper’s sobs filled the room—holy shit, he needed some air.
He reached to put his cell back in his pocket, when it vibrated. Viper looked at the screen. It was a damn text message, and Killer of Kings strictly contacted him by phone call.
****
Pepper used the sleeve of her sweater to wipe her tears away. She didn’t want this hitman to think she was weak, because he already assumed she was spoiled. Why did she even care what he thought of her? She watched him standing over the table full of weapons, his face grimacing when he checked his phone. He was huge. When he’d taken off his leather jacket, she couldn’t believe the size of his muscles. He was covered in ink, intricate black patterns intertwined with skulls and demons.
Viper was the exact type of man her mother had warned her to stay away from, but for some reason she’d never felt such a powerful attraction. He had to be at least a decade older. She hated herself for desiring a man fit for nightmares, but she couldn’t control her body. Pepper wasn’t so sure of her mind either. She couldn’t stop imagining what it would be like if a man like Viper loved her. He’d be able to protect her from the world, from her stepfather.
“Are you done with the tears?” he asked.
She scowled.
He peered out the curtains briefly. “Fuck. Pack your shit, we’re leaving.”
“What? Where?” Being taken to a second location was always a bad idea when it came to kidnappings—she knew that much. She didn’t like the sound of being taken to a strange place, probably where he planned to murder her. Then she thought better. If he took her out in public, she’d be able to make a scene or run away. It was a very touristy area.
He started strapping all those scary weapons back on. But as much as guns terrified her, he looked so badass, so damn sexy. What’s wrong with you, Pepper? Maybe she had daddy issues. Or she’d lost her mind completely.
“You’ve got two minutes, sweetheart. I suggest you get your ass moving.”
Pepper hadn’t taken much when she left home. She’d run off in the middle of the night with only a backpack.
“Where are we going?” she repeated. “You don’t have to do this, you know. I can disappear and my stepfather won’t know you didn’t kill me.”
He tugged his jacket on, then checked the clip on one of his guns before replacing it on his belt. “Remember that asshole in the bathroom? Well, he’s not the only one.” Viper strode over to her. He was so tall, she had to crane her neck to look him in the eyes. “You’re welcome to stay here and take your chances with the two thugs scoping out your room, or you can come with me. I promise, I’m not as sadistic. I’m known for my swift kills.”
“I don’t like either of those options.” She crossed her arms over her chest, but still knew she’d prefer a fast death over a painful death if those were her only choices. But somewhere deep down inside of her, she hoped that Viper wouldn’t be able to go through with killing her.
“I was trying to be nice, but this isn’t a debate, princess. It’s time to go.”
“But—”
He growled as he turned to face her again, but he still appeared collected. Her stepfather had always been in a perpetual rage, and he terrified her. Not Viper. “What is it now?”
“I’m scared,” she admitted. Pepper didn’t want to appear weak, but the thought of two hitmen outside waiting to kill her was a terrifying prospect. This was crazy, too much for her to process. Pepper wanted to withdraw within herself, to hide from all the evil in the world. “What if one of them shoots me?”
He exhaled and ran a hand through his dark hair. “Is that all? As long as you’re with me, I guarantee you’ll be safe from them.”
She could hear something right outside the door, and she saw the knob move. Adrenaline scattered like wildfire through her veins. She pointed, unable to speak.
“Relax. You’ve been on the run for months, so I know you’re stronger than this. Just keep quiet. Got it?”
Pepper nodded. She had the overwhelming urge to throw herself into his arms. Now that her mother was dead, she didn’t have a soul to turn to for comfort. She’d never felt so scared and alone.
“Hey.” His leather jacket creaked as he tilted her chin up. The scent of his woodsy cologne was pure masculinity. “Be a good girl for me, okay?” She studied him. He had a unique intensity, and a gnarly scar that cut down the length of his face on one side. She imagined most women would be repelled, but his imperfections were somehow beautiful to her. Pepper wondered if he ever smiled.
He put his finger to his lips to silence her as he backed away from her toward the door. Viper stood behind it, and ever so carefully unlocked the deadbolt. She couldn’t believe he was going to invite the murderers in without a fight. To make matters worse, her feet turned to lead. She froze in place when she needed to take cover.
Someone kicked in the door a moment later, two men rushing into the room with guns raised. The first man had grey hair and a pot belly. He smiled when he saw her standing there, like a deer in the headlights. She still couldn’t move.
“So good to see you, Pepper.” He had a raspy smoker’s voice. As he approached her, he tucked his gun away and began to slip on a pair of gloves. She watched as he wiggled each chubby finger in, one at a time.
The other guy was muscle-bound, his black suit too tight. He spilled the contents of a plastic bag on the table. There were syringes and baggies of white powder.
“Take off your sweater,” said the older man. “Let me see your arms.”
Her heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vise. She couldn’t even breathe. When she looked to Viper, still standing in the dark shadow behind the door, he put his finger to his lips again. She swallowed her paralyzing fear, unbuttoned her sweater, and slipped it off. Pepper always wore sweaters, even in the heat, because she didn’t want to showcase her extra weight and thick arms. Growing up, the women in their elite circle were picture-perfect and highly critical of anything less than perfection. She never felt like she belonged.
The man grabbed her wrist in a bruising grip, pulling her arm straight. “Shit, she’s not a user.”
The big guy came over, flicking a full syringe with a finger. “Too late to worry about that now. Besides, there’s always a first time for everyone—especially grieving daughters.”
Pepper began to hyper-ventilate, rearing back, trying to get her arm free.
“Don’t you know drugs are bad for your health?”
The older guy turned his head to the voice, and Viper delivered a short straight-punch to his face, followed by an elbow, and another punch. Each move was precise and effective, knocking the man to the ground. Viper’s hulking presence was all-business, his eyes black and flat.
When the big guy with the needle charged him, Pepper screamed, “Viper!”
But he didn’t need her help. He twisted the other man in a headlock so fast, it was almost inhuman. He hit him in such a brutal fashion, she had to look away. Blood sprayed the carpet, and a gross gurgling sound was followed by the heavy body falling to the ground.
The older man on the floor attempted to get back up. Pepper didn’t even think, kicking him sharply in the ribs. Unfortunately, she wasn’t as proficient as her hitman. He grabbed her leg, and she toppled down beside him. Pepper flailed her arms as he tried to strike her.
The sound of a gun cocking ended the struggle. Viper stood over the other man. He pressed the muzzle firm to his forehead. “Name. Now.”
“Giovanni Bianchi.”
“Who hired you?”
There was a pause. “He didn’t tell me his name.”
Viper pistol-whipped him, hard, then returned the gun to his head. “Last chance. Tell me something.”
The old man began sobbing. “It was su
pposed to look like an overdose. That’s all I know, I swear.”
Viper shifted his attention to her, not moving his position. “Turn your head.”
She did as he told her, and then the blast of a gunshot shocked her to the core. Pepper curled up in a ball and screamed.
Moments later, strong hands pried her fingers from face. “Open your eyes, Pepper.”
She peeked up to find Viper standing over her. He returned his gun to his holster, then reached down to hoist her effortlessly up to her feet. “Are they dead?” she asked.
He nodded, his hands still on her sides under her arms. They were so close. The room was quiet enough to hear the wall clock ticking, every second matching the rapid beat of her heart. “You tried to help me,” he said, barely above a whisper.
Pepper shrugged. “I didn’t want him to hurt you.”
No one had ever looked at her the way Viper did just now. He saw beyond the surface, maybe all the way to her soul, a look of disbelief making the corners of his eyes crinkle.
“You’re a complication,” he said, no hint of emotion. God, she hoped for more from him. She was a mess, a basket-case of emotional instability. Pepper needed to be reassured, comforted, anything. How could he be so numb? Was he a complete sociopath?
The brief moment of silence and what she optimistically perceived as intimacy was doused when Viper’s cellphone rang. He pulled away so abruptly she felt dizzy.
“About time,” he answered.
After listening for a minute, he froze, turning to look at her as he lowered the hand holding the cell. For the first time, she swore she saw a brief wave of emotion behind in his dark eyes. She knew what it was because it kept her sleepless most nights—regret.
Chapter Three
“Don’t you ever send me a fucking text again!” Viper made sure he got that out before he forgot. There were only a few words that he’d been able to make out, and that was because they were the only words he’d known: more, kill, money. Three words, and everything else had meant nothing to him.
