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He was a prime candidate to kill, but this wasn’t my territory. I’d had conversations with Grimm, the biker president who ran Smoky Vale, and rumors were flying of alliances being formed. Usual courtesy required that I alerted Grimm I was on his turf, but I didn’t plan to be here long enough to meet with him.

As I rounded the corner, Taggart pulled off to the shoulder of the road. I reached for the gun in the glove compartment and placed it in my lap. Taggart climbed out, walked around, and raised the hood, which made it impossible to get a good shot.

A light up ahead signaled another vehicle coming in the opposite direction. I slowed down enough to give the truck time to pass by before I made my move on Taggart.

Pop!Pop!Pop!

The rear windshield of my car shattered, shards flying across the back seat, and I ducked. Fuck. I’d been in this situation before and immediately figured it out for what it was. A trap.

They had set me up.

Liam had accepted a bad job, and now I had to get my ass out of there alive. And bring down at least one of these two fuckers shooting at me.

I pressed hard on the gas just as Taggart stepped from behind the raised hood, his gun aimed right at me.

Kit’s face flashed through my mind.

I white-knuckled the steering wheel and swerved the car in Taggart’s direction. I floored the gas pedal, and the car hurtled forward. Bracing myself for impact, I held my gun firmly in my hand as the car made contact. Hard. My whole body jarred, kept in place only by the seat belt. Then the airbag slammed into my chest.

I grunted, batting at the bag to get out from underneath it. All around me was stillness.

Gun in hand, I swung my car door open and dropped to the ground. I scanned the area, listening for footsteps, the rustling of leaves, anything to let me know where those assholes who had been shooting at me were.

Nothing.

I got into a crouching position and backed up to the tail of my car. The truck that had opened fire on me was gone. It was just my car and Taggart’s.

Where the fuck was he?

“Son of a bitch.” I edged back to where Taggart had been standing when he aimed his gun at me. There, a scuffling sound to my left. I moved quietly, gun cocked and ready.

Taggart was hauling himself over the ground on his elbows, his bloody leg as useless as a strand of overcooked spaghetti.

“Where do you think you’re going, you son of a bitch?”

He looked over his shoulder and tried to lift his gun, but I stomped down onto his hand.

“You fucker!” He spat out blood.

“I’m going to ask you this question only once.” I ground my foot into his hand, making a satisfying crack. “Who the fuck put you up to this?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand. Blood, dammit. Kit won’t be happy. “I’ll give you another chance. Who put you up to this?”

He had to have been sent by someone. I didn’t know him from Adam, and I never forgot a face.

“They won’t stop until they kill you.” He grinned at me from bloody gums. “This is just the begi—”

I pumped three bullets into his chest, then ran back to my car. I could figure out who was behind all this at another time. For now, I needed to get the hell away from there and have my car scrapped and shredded.

The bumper hung loose, and I kicked it all the way off my car and threw it in the back. Despite the crumpled hood, it ran perfectly fine. I sped away before another vehicle came on the scene or those assholes returned. Taggart hadn’t been working alone. Whoever had sent him to kill me must know about my reputation and that it would take more than one man to put me out of commission.

I rang Liam’s phone number.

“Is it done?” he asked.

“Yes, but more importantly, I need to know who paid for this hit.”


Tags: Gianni Holmes A Hitman's Bait Erotic