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“Well, when I type in Devyn Wilder, her name pops up, but then it goes to another screen.”
“And? What does that mean?” I can barely hide the excitement of possibly being able to find out her alias.
“Well, this usually happens when they’ve messed up with the admittance paperwork. It shows an address on this screen, but there’s no name listed. The account was paid in full, so there was never a bill sent. There’s no way I can be certain this is even the right address or information you’re looking for. But it’s all our system has though, I’m afraid.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’ll take whatever you have.”
Nodding, she hurriedly hands me a sticky-note with the information written on it.
“Here you go. I hope you find your sister.”
“Thank you, Beautiful.”
Taking the note, I wink and throw her one last panty-dropping smile before turning to leave. I’d just made it down the hall when I notice that she’d also written her name and phone number on the back. If I were into just sex, she’d be an easy, hot fuck, but I highly doubt that she can handle me, or my extreme sexual tastes. This girl seems a bit too timid for my liking. If she knew what I expected of a woman during sex, she’d run and hide.
After carefully entering the address into my GPS, I start the engine of my truck and begin following the instructions it reads out to me. According to the results on the screen, my destination isn’t too far of a drive. With each mile I gain, I feel the adrenaline pulsating through my veins.
Can it really be this easy?
My excitement soon fades as the congested traffic comes to a complete standstill. Interstate construction has shut down all but one lane of traffic. Judging by the flashing signs on the side of the road, drivers can expect long delays in their travel. Great. That’s just what everyone wants to hear when they have somewhere important they need to be.
By late afternoon, I’m finally turning onto her street. As I circle the neighborhood, I study every last feature of the area, making mental notes in my head of the things that stick out at me. You’d be surprised at how the tiniest of details can prove quite useful in situations like this.
When I reach the address, I find a small red brick house with a silver jeep sitting in the driveway. Careful to not arouse any suspicion, I slow down and park across the street, just down from the house. This street doesn’t seem to get much traffic, so I know I can’t park here for long without my vehicle taking notice. I don’t want to begin looking suspicious to the neighbors.
Minutes later, a short, brunette comes outside and walks to the vehicle. Grabbing the remainder of the bags in her hands, she bumps her hip against the back door to urge it shut. She doesn’t look anything like Devyn, but then again, people can change a lot in four years. Curious as to whether this is her or not, I reach for the folder on the seat beside me, double-checking the picture attached to it.
No, this definitely isn’t Devyn.
Even though it’s not her, that doesn't mean she doesn't live here. This address is the newest lead I have, so I have to be sure to thoroughly check it out before moving on. One thing is for sure. Devyn Wilder came to Savannah, Georgia, and I’m damned certain she’s still here.
For the next hour, I keep a watchful eye on the comings and goings of people on the street. I could make this easier by going from door to door, but when you are looking for someone that doesn’t want to be found, you have to be cautious about asking too many questions. If the slightest suspicion is raised, they’ll flee. With the contract money being this good, I simply can’t risk her doing that. If she runs, finding her again will be damn near impossible.
The older house I’m parked in front of catches my attention. The tall grass and neglectful care would indicate that no one has occupied the residence in quite some time. Studying the upstairs window, I calculate the angles in my head. This place could provide me the perfect way, to covertly watch the comings and goings of the house that I suspect Devyn lives in.
To maintain cover, I move my truck a few streets over and walk through a small thicket of woods, heading towards the back yard of the abandoned house. Once I’m there, I peer inside a few of the windows and find my instincts to be correct. Other than a few pieces of furniture covered up with sheets, the place is empty.
After carefully jiggling the back door with a small utility knife, I manage to pry it open with ease. A strong musky smell hits me the moment I open the door, instantly choking me on the spot. The patches of mold on the bottom sheet-rock of the living room wall reveal that the house hadn’t had any fresh air in quite some time. It certainly isn’t healthy to be in here, but it’s a chance I’ll have to take. I’ve been in much worse conditions than this before.
To not raise attention, I keep the front blinds downstairs closed, only opening the back windows to allow some air to circulate throughout the house. Once I’m done, I cautiously make my way upstairs to continue scoping the place out.
The creaking of the old wooden floor seems to grow louder with each step I take towards the center bedroom upstairs. Opening the door, I approach the large top window and smile. My calculations had been correct. This place will give me the perfect view of the house across the street.
With a loud thud, I drop my bags and quickly begin setting up my equipment. Since this stakeout may take a while, I decide to use my high power, standing scope to focus on the living room area in the front of the house. I take my time, patiently unpacking and assembling the rifle and stand. Once everything is secured and set up, I do what I do best...
I wait.
Chapter Seven
CHAPTER SEVEN
HONEY
While Kason busily chases after sand crabs, I stare out at the crashing waves and savor the tranquility surrounding me. Between the warm fresh sea air blowing against my face and the sounds of my son’s sweet laughter filling my ears, I can easily pretend my life is perfect.
Scooting back in the warm, white sand, I turn my attention to the old abandoned beach house behind me. For the past three years, I’ve fantasized about how it would feel to live there, to watch the sun, rise and fall every day, from its front porch. The faded, fallen blue shutters, and loose white porch posts only make me wish I could call the realtor company up right now and buy it on the spot. I always wondered why someone couldn’t see the beauty in the potential it had. I’d already meticulously planned every detail of its renovation in my head; right down to the kind of flowers I’d put in the hanging baskets on the front porch. Maybe it is a stupid dream, but sometimes dreams are all we have to live for.
Out here, I feel safe. Without care or worry, I can forget everything. It’s like the rest of the world can’t touch me. For a brief time, I’m happy, free. This is the life I so desperately want, but it’s the life I can never have. Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and let the calming sounds of the waves crash over me, desperate to keep this feeling for as long as possible.
Kason and I take our normal walk down the beach to inspect for new things that have washed ashore. By the end of the day, his little bucket is overflowing with seashells and various discoveries. He’s easily entertained, for hours, searching for his treasures. This area has become our special place to come, a safe-haven of sorts, I always find myself uneasy about leaving it.
The dread of the day ending hits me hard as we sit and watch the evening sun kiss the sea. Nothing is more breathtaking to witness than the unique, vibrant colors weaved in the evening sky. As much as I love seeing it, a part of me hates it. The last thing I want is a reminder of having to return to the real world.
“Can’t we stay a little longer? Please?” he begs. I can’t help but smile. I feel exactly the same way, inside.
“No, baby boy, it’s time to go.”
“Aw!”
His little voice is full of so much disappointment that it pulls at my heart.
“Tell you what. How about we swing by that pizza place you like, for dinner?”
; “Yes!”
Just watching his little victory dance is enough to make anyone laugh.
Standing up, I brush the sand off my body and sling the heavy beach bag over my shoulder. Kason skips happily beside me on our short walk back to the wooden pier. Sadly, with each step toward the car, I feel the heavy weight of my troubles starting to return. Once I buckle him in his booster seat, I turn to glance over the pier at the ocean and let out a long sigh.
Maybe one day leaving won’t hurt so much.
We’ve barely left the pizza place, when I notice that Kason’s become very quiet and still in the backseat. Glancing in the rearview mirror, I find him fast asleep. After the busy day he’s had, I knew he’d never make it home without passing out first. In a way, I‘m relieved to have the silent drive home. It gives me time to compose my thoughts for the busy week that lies ahead.
As I pull into our driveway, my headlights illuminate the front of our small, red house, spotlighting all the things that desperately need to be repaired. Even though it isn’t much to look at, it’s still a place my son can call home. I hope there will come a day that I can finally feel at home here, too
I pull on the inside handle, but like always, my driver’s side door picks the perfect time to get stuck. It takes a couple of hard blows with my elbow, but it finally opens with a loud creak. Luckily, the noise and commotion doesn’t wake up Kason. I swear the child could sleep through a bomb exploding. I’d give anything if I could sleep even half that soundly.
The instant I step out of the car, I’m once again struck by a sick, heavy feeling of uneasiness, the same as the other night at the club. With trembling hands, I grab hold of Kason’s door handle and close my eyes, hoping to calm myself.
It’s just your imagination. Breathe. You’re okay. Stop being paranoid.
PAYNE
The night air is heavy and miserable, making the wretched stench in this old house even harder to stomach. I’ve been here four hours, and other than the girl studying in the living room, there hasn’t been any new activity across the street. Large beads of sweat trickle down from my head and onto my neck. A drop runs off my temple and falls into the eyepiece of the scope, instantly blurring my vision. Stepping back, I lift the sweat soaked t-shirt from my body and wipe my face with my forearm. Like an answered prayer, a slight breeze blows through the window, hitting my damp skin and instantly cooling my body down. Nights in the South are always hot and humid this time of year. It definitely makes sleeping near impossible.
Suddenly, bright lights of an approaching vehicle illuminate the room, catching my immediate attention. Peering out the window, I watch as the car pulls into the driveway of the house across from me. I quickly grab my Canon camera off my bag and zoom in on the license plate to take a few quick pictures. I’ll run the tags tomorrow and find out who they’re registered to. If this stakeout turns out to be a complete bust, then it may be another lead to follow up. In this business, I’ve learned you don’t let any possible clues slip through your fingers. You always have to think and act quickly on a moment’s notice.
When I catch a glimpse of the woman in the car, I realize that this could be my chance. I hurriedly move to take my stance. Looking through the scope of my M107 Barrett rifle, I closely follow the figure as she opens the door of her vehicle. My once calm and steady heart rate picks up dramatically. I grin, welcoming the feel of my pulse pounding in my neck.
God, how I love the adrenaline rush this gives me. The anticipation is almost as good as the kill.
Tantalizingly long tan legs, one by one, step out of the car, immediately hypnotizing me on the spot. The light cast from the security light above the garage delicately illuminates her goddess figure. I take my time and drink in every detail of her body with my eyes.
Goddamn, those tight cut-off jean shorts hug her ass perfectly.
Unable to stop myself, I drop my eyes, trailing my hungry gaze once again down those long gorgeous legs. The way the brown leather straps of her shoes wrap around her ankles makes my cock twitch. When she turns to the side, I notice her jeweled navel ring peeking from below her tight midriff top.
Sweet Jesus! This girl is fucking hot!
As she struggles to open the back door of the car, her long, light brown hair falls around her face, preventing me from confirming her identity. I shift my weight and drag the scope around to carefully follow her every move. From what I can tell, it certainly looks like it’s Devyn, but I still can’t be for certain until I can clearly see her face. Until I positively identify a target, I never just assume and take the shot. There’s zero room for error in this kind of business. One mistake will cost you everything. Everything is a high price to pay when you have nothing to give.
As if on cue, she flips her long hair back away from her face. It’s then I’m finally able to lay eyes on her. My chest clenches the moment the truth is affirmed.
There’s no doubt about it. It’s definitely Devyn.
My God, she’s so fucking beautiful.
In that moment, I can’t explain my body’s dramatic reaction to her. It’s as if she’s silently beckoning me from across the street. I simply couldn’t take my eyes off her. God, the things I want to do to her. I want to see those long legs tied up and spread wide. I want to taste every part of her, slowly appreciating every delicate fold of her opening. I want her to beg me unlike anyone has ever begged me; to make me do things I’ve never done with anyone. I want to own her, possess her.
Suddenly, a cold, nervous sweat abruptly breaks across my forehead, temporarily bringing me back to my senses.
Wait. What the fuck is wrong with me?
Adjusting my throbbing cock in my jeans, I force myself to put my focus back on the task at hand. This is what I do. This is who I am. Whether I like it or not, I must comply with the rules I’ve designed. Even though I’m mentally challenging them at the moment, they’ve become my covenant over the years, keeping my head clear and trained like the uncaring soldier I’d become.
No matter how starved my dick is for a good fuck, I can’t allow it to think for me. Getting involved with any contracted job is as good as signing your own death warrant. When this job is through, I’ll find an underground sex club and relinquish all my built up sexual frustration out on a willing submissive. I won’t stop fucking until all the need and cravings swirling through my body are satisfied, completely and thoroughly.
Once I’m refocused, I settle back into my stance, peering through the scope of my rifle as I intricately scan the surrounding neighborhood to ensure that no one is in direct sight. Luckily, the houses in this neighborhood are far enough apart that no one will ever see a thing. On the off chance that there is anyone outside, the silencer, attached to the end of the barrel, will suppress any noise from my rifle.
Carefully placing her back in the crosshairs of my scope, I turn the dial and make a quick adjustment for windage, keeping her perfectly aligned in the frame. I fixate on the lines of the crosshairs placed on her beautiful head. Another rush of adrenaline surges through my veins. The intensity of the high is overwhelming, better than any drug I could snort or shoot into my bloodstream.
I fight to calm myself enough to do this. Gradually, I blow out the long breath I’d been holding to prepare myself.
Steady.
Easy.
Don’t rush it.
And there it is, the perfect shot. My heart pounds in my chest as the exhilaration courses through me. Easing my finger against the trigger, I know this is the moment. Without warning, she leans into the backseat to retrieve something, delaying her inevitable fate.
Even though it’s wrong, I can’t help but admire her tight, hot ass pushing up into the air as I wait for her to come back into view.
Fuck! My balls are aching at the sight of her.
As she raises back up, I feel my heart pounding and the blood rushing into my ears. This is it. And then, out of nowhere, a tiny little hand slides around the nape of her neck. Petrified, I observe her as she gent
ly shuffles the sleeping child in her arms, lightly brushing his hair away from his face and kissing him on the cheek.
A kid? Masterson had said nothing about a kid being in the picture.
I instantly drop my aim and step away from the window, trying like hell to calm my racing heart. Disappointment? Relief? At this moment, I honestly don’t know which to feel.
I glance back through the standing scope and watch as they disappear into the back of the house. Gruffly rubbing my forehead, I try to rationalize everything in my head. Maybe the kid belongs to the other woman I saw earlier. Regardless, I’m not going to be able to do the hit here anymore. I won’t risk the kid getting hurt or witnessing anything. I’ll just have to watch her for a bit and figure out another plan. Delaying the hit will give me an opportunity to find out more about this situation.
