I lock my car and walk to the front doors. Waving at Sam sitting at the front desk, I move to the elevator. My tension starts to ease as I step inside, and I lean against the wall. I live on thefifth floor, and to the right. I have to enter a code to unlock my front door, and another to set the alarm, and a pad that reads my fingerprints. Heath knew I needed to feel safe in my home, so he set me up with the most expensive system. As I come to my floor, it’s just a few steps to my sanctuary. Once I’m inside and the security is engaged, I relax. For a moment, I lean against the wall and enjoy the silence. I love being around the family, but I feel comfortable being alone. I revel in the noise of the crowd as I prepare to beat the shit out of my opponent. Going to the club with the family to celebrate is fun, and I can go late into the night. Yet, coming home, spending time in the open space, and reading a good book is my idea of the best time.
For years, I wished for a family and meaningful relationships. I found Bobbie, and my life changed in horrible ways. I’ve been assaulted, displayed, ridiculed, abused, and shot. I’ve hated myself and my body because I thought I must have done something to encourage them. Being a fox has meant little to me since being a shifter didn’t help me in the past. There have been days when the voice in my head has been worse than the ones in the world. I wasn’t very nice to myself. I allowed outside influences, the cruelty of a group of men, and the abandonment of my family to dictate how I felt about myself. Every day, I choose to change that mindset, and I’ve done a fantastic job of it. I still have rough days, and the memories remain vivid in my head, but I strive to be comfortable in my skin and grateful for the blessing I now have.
I stand straight and strip on the way to the bathroom. The bath will have to wait. Standing in the shower, I can wash away the memories of Bobbie down the drain. I start the water and set it to scalding, then move to the sink.
“I did it,” I whisper, staring at my reflection. “I faced the past, and I’m still here. I refused to allow him to control my life. I deserve some fucking happiness.”
I laugh. There is blood in my hair. Leaning forward for a closer look, I suck in a breath as the cold counter hits my skin and glare at the red splatters that blend in with my hairline. I wish I could kill him again. I love my hair. My laughter continues, and I’m not surprised by the tears rolling down my cheeks.
It’s over. Truly.
Finally.
I’ve been hiding all my emotions behind a smile. No more. This is me. A crying, laughing, bloody mess.
It’s time to embrace every side of myself that has made me who I am.
Fuck anyone who doesn’t like it.
Chapter Two
Ezra
Sitting on the old picnic table in a wooded area behind the closed bar, I take out my knife and begin peeling my apple. I hate the peel. I’ve been driving all day, and I’m hungry. I’m ready for the day to be over. The hotel room I booked looks promising, and I’m hoping the bed is as soft as advertised.
Owen should be arriving soon. Nasty man. All it took to get him to meet me was a series of sweet notes. Granted, he thinks I’m a teenage girl ready to live on the wild side. I’m excited tosee his expression when he realizes he’s not getting the fix for his evil habit. I’ve been following him for weeks, learning his routine, habits, and the best way to draw him out. He travels to different states, and I wasn’t expecting him to come here.
An influential, rich man contracted me to find Owen and kill him. Unfortunately, he assaulted the man’s daughter. The girl remembered his face and name, an image I’m sure is burned into her brain. I’m astonished by the balls it takes to torture a young girl and let her live. He’s conceited, and the worst kind of man. The human police aren’t working fast enough. The girl's dad wants revenge, but doesn’t want to bloody his hands to do it. I understand, yet if I had a daughter who went through what she did, I would burn the world down to find her abuser. Luckily, there are men like me who don’t mind a little violence and blood to make things right.
I’m an assassin.
I love my job. People pay me to kill men who abuse and torture. I get to see the world, make money, and rid the world of people who shouldn’t be allowed to live. The world is my home, and I have several houses. I don’t have to worry about paying the bills, and I sleep like a baby on comfortable beds because of the money it earns me. My skills make stalking and killing them easy. Sometimes, I prolong it just to make it more challenging.
I’m a fox shifter and have all kinds of fun capabilities. I have enhanced senses, an agile, strong body, but my favorite gift is the power to shapeshift. I could kill Owen in the middle of the street, and no one would be able to identify me. I distort my face so no camera or human can accurately describe me. My features shifting into a generic face, and they can become disoriented when they look at me. It’s a handy power.
Taking a bite of my treat, my earbud alerts me to a call, and I grin.
“Answer,” I say, and eat another piece.
“I saw you called. Are you in town?”
“Yeah. I’m busy now. Tomorrow I’ll be free.” Allie is an old friend. We met years ago and have remained close ever since. We don’t see each other often, but we talk regularly. Anytime we are in the same area, we grab some food. She is a vampire, and the only female friend I have. Her brothers are recently mated, and I promised I would reach out. I’ve heard good things about a rabbit shifter named Sally who keeps them on their toes.
“Is there a bad guy in town?” she asks.
“There are bad guys everywhere,” I hum, twirling my knife, watching the piece of apple on the end. “He won’t be anything soon.”
“Shit, Ezra,” she laughs. “Did I call in the middle of the killing?”
The best part about our friendship is that she doesn’t judge me. I like to think it’s my sparkling personality, but more likely, she's seen the horrors of the world. Plus, her brothers can be a bit ruthless.
“Not in the middle.” I grin as I see a man shuffling down the alley. “Soon.” He looks over his right shoulder and then his left.
“Only you,” she sighs. “Let’s set up a meal for tomorrow night. That should give you enough time to clean the blood off.”
“You know me better,” I say softly, too low for the human to hear. “I kill them clean.”
I have a special black tarp I use, and all I have to do is wait for him to step on it, kill him, and zip him up. I wait patiently as he moves closer. He won’t see my true face, but the form and face of a girl, Jasmine, with whom he’s been communicating. I can choose when to reveal myself. It's a shame because I rather like the way I look. My blond hair is just the right thickness, and I’ve had several women compliment my yellow-gold eyes.
