Page 113 of Damaged Gods


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“Can I Candice?”

I stare hard into her eyes and growl, “You offered up your knowledge easily this time. I wonder what would happen if someone put a gun to your head, or worse.”

She begins to shake and I snarl, “Just pretend we fucked and nothing else and you’ll be fine. If I hear your name, or word of our conversation, I will find you and I will kill you and that’s a promise.”

The sweat beads on her forehead and she gasps, “You have my word.”

“Good girl.”

I stand and glare down at her shivering body and snap, “Now fucking strip and wait for the next man. Our time is up.”

As I leave, the terror in her eyes tells me she won’t say a fucking word because my reputation is a dark one that works better than any gun to the head. My methods are unconventional and I always get my man and I won’t think twice about killing this woman if one breath of our conversation gets out.

We are the only two people in the world who know what was spoken of here today and as I pocket the photograph, I think about my next target.

Carter Lamont is an overweight, old school, Texas oil man and I’m curious why he knew my father at all, let alone the woman with him.

One thing’s for sure though, by the end of tomorrow I will know everything about the man, including his fucking grades at kindergarten, and the name of the woman in the photograph will be mine.

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