Page 24 of Kill Song

Page List


Font:  

Dear god, yes.Take me with you.

“We need to disable his security cameras,” I said, glancing up at the spy cams most people would never have spotted. She grabbed his servers, but sometimes security systems could hold a certain amount of footage on the camera. At least my DNA should be contained to this spot, which was covered in plastic. “Maybe burn the house down,” I suggested as I took in every inch of the protected room. If we tried to take the plastic, we could accidentally leave behind trace DNA and that would defeat the purpose.

“I already did that,” she assured me. And if my cock wasn’t already half hard, it was like a rock now. I loved when a woman knew her way around the tech. “No burning the house. We want there to be as much time as possible before someone finds the body. Burning the house down would start an immediate investigation. We’re out of time anyway.”

With a folder under her arm, and the slim black servers clutched to her chest, she put her sunglasses back on her face and strode to the door.

Not one to argue with someone who clearly knew what they were doing, I grabbed the cuffs from the floor, stuffing them in my back pocket, and followed her out. Not much I could do about the splintered chair, though. I kept my head ducked as we walked to a car parked in front of another house. Dressed in dark jeans and T-shirt, the blood shouldn’t have been very noticeable, but from the heated swelling of my face, I probably looked like an angry pin-cushion.

Here’s to hoping no one happened to glance outside.

Drew unlocked the doors, and slid in the driver’s seat. My ass had just touched the fabric when she handed the servers over to me, and slid the folder under her seat. It was the fastest exit I’d ever made and within seconds we were off and driving away from the neighborhood.

She was damn good.

The entire time, she moved quickly, but seemed relaxed and casual. Anyone who noticed her wouldn’t have thought anything of her being on the street. She blended. Too well.

And that’s when it hit me. I was obviously beaten. Underdressed for the affluent area. And we were in broad daylight. If anything, I was a liability.

Yet, Drew had decided to take me with her anyway.

"Put your seatbelt on," she said without a glance in my direction. Fuck, I set the servers between my feet on the floor and dragged the seatbelt over and clicked it into place. Okay, Fletch, I told myself. Get your shit together. The beautiful lady shouldn't have to tell you basic fucking survival steps.

She reached an arm behind the seat and there was a faint sound of Velcro pulling and I half-twisted, my ribs protested the movement immediately. I didn't quite bite off the groan before it escaped.

Real manly there, Fletch. Way. To. Go.

She handed me a First Aid kit. "Alcohol wipes, clean up your face and pop one of the cold packs and put it on the swelling. Then give me an address and a reason to drop you off there, Mr. Fletcher Reed."

I paused for a beat before opening the kit. The alcohol wipes stung like a mother fucker, but they did the trick. Cleaned up the bloodied mess, and based on a quick look in the visor mirror, it wasn't as bad as I'd first thought. I might not even need stitches.

Taking my time, I cleaned my hands fastidiously, as well as my neck. There were a pair of taser burns there. Fuckers. I'd like to get my hands on them. Still—without the burns—I wouldn't have gotten to see the Goddess of Death here make that action movie entrance.

I could have lived without the gun. Despite the image that ripped through me at the thought of the weapon, I managed to suppress the shudder. I was getting better at it. Mostly if I had time to prepare. Course, I might not have lived without her gun, because Dion was definitely going to kill me.

That was reason number one. "I'll give you my address after I've convinced you to drop me off," I offered before cracking one of the antibiotic ointments and dabbing it against the worst of the cuts. The one upside to the lazy fuck was that while he'd had brass knuckles, he'd lacked the actual skill in using them effectively.

My cousin could have broken my cheekbone without the knuckles. Course, he also enjoyed a raw fight. I was more a lover than a fighter and I planned to keep it that way.

A gunshot echoed in my head. It started out as a distant pop that grew louder, and louder with each subsequent firing.

The crack of one of the ice packs being activated yanked me back to the present. Sweat soaked through my shirt and I took the offered pack gratefully and pressed it to my throbbing cheek.

"Dion offered a singular service. He was good with documents and digital identities." That was why she'd been there, right? Right, no questions, Fletch. Just the elevator pitch. "I'm better." No lie. No embellishment. "I also don't betray confidences. A client deserves absolute privacy without fear of blackmail, or that I'll reveal confidential information because I get offered a better price."

"You sound very sure of yourself." No judgment seemed housed in those words. I'd take it as a compliment.

"I am, because I'm worth every penny." I shifted the ice pack a little as a part of my face began to numb. Oh, that felt much better. "Working on the presumption that you were the appointment Dion was waiting on, and that you needed documents done, digital or otherwise, I can take care of that for you. As a first time client, I'll give you a discount. Say—fifteen percent off my normal fee."

"How do I know you're this good?"

"If I'm not, you'll probably come back and kill me." That was if you don't kill me right after I finished. Right, stay positive, Fletch. "The simple fact is, you need a service and I provide a service. Your former service provider is no longer an option."

She chuckled. Actually chuckled, at the last sentence and I stole a look at her profile. The grin was genuine and warm. She even shook her head as if amused by herself. I grinned at her, then stopped. Immediately. Fuck, that hurt.

"You're not going to ask me what I need before making such assurances?"

"Nope. I won't lie to you though. If something is impossible, it's impossible. If something is gonna take a shit ton of work to make possible, then I'll tell you that, too. However, if I have to invent something new, that will be factored into the cost and I'll get your approval before I do it, unless I have carte blanche."


Tags: Heather Long Erotic