AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I was in the SEALs, a team man for life, I thought, until I got a bullet in the shoulder, which needed a lengthy rehab. So then I joined a private security firm that didn’t care much about my arm. During that time, I realized there was a market for taking out evil men and bad people.
That’s my justification. That’s what I tell myself. It’s not because I’ve always had this darkness in me, this hunger, this need for control. With enough bullets fired, I can stop the thudding and the ugly noises.
I sit on the couch. Do you know where her debtors live or hang out?
This could be a police officer, of course. An undercover agent keen to bust a killer in the shadows. I have contingencies for if the police move in on me, assets in locations around the country, and alternate identities.
I’ll ask my mom. Can you wait a few minutes?
Sure, I reply, again feeling that odd tugging in my chest.
It’s the same feeling I used to get when I thought about having a family, but that was before I tried dating and realized I just didn’t care. I never cared, not about one woman I dated. Maybe I reserve all my love for my dogs.
She says she doesn’t know, the person replies. But they’re going to come by the apartment tomorrow at ten p.m.
What was her plan before you reached out to me? To let it happen?
Yeah. She was going to leave with them and write me a note.
I nod. At least this person’s mother was going to protect them from the Bratva.
I’ll need a photo of you and your mother holding your IDs. I’ll also need every single piece of information your mother has. The physical descriptions of her debtors, including any tattoos or distinguishing features. When, where, and for how long has she known them?
Why do you need our photos? the person replies.
I’ll need to verify your claims. I need to know who you are in case this is a trick.
What happens then?
You don’t want to know.
In truth, this part of the process has always been enough to keep people sensible. I don’t relish the thought of hurting somebody who doesn’t deserve it, but when they do… A voice drifts to me across time, just one of many. “Do you enjoy it? Is that why you do this?”
A few minutes later, two photos come through. The first woman is in a state, presumably the mother. Angela Jones’ collarbones show through her thin shirt. She has straw-like hair and glassy eyes. She’s gleaming with sweat. Even if the photo is a still, I know she’s shaking. She’s coming down big time.
I swipe to the second photo. In his cage, Jackal sits up, suddenly on alert, always sensing my mood so closely. That usually means he’s relaxed at home since I am, but not now, not with my heart pounding through my chest and my head swimming.
Zooming into her ID, I see her name is Katy Jones. She’s nineteen. She has shoulder-length, flowing, dark brown hair, almost black in places, far more radiant than her mother’s. Her eyes are hard, but there’s heat in them, a sparkle that hints at the excitement she could let herself feel if the world were made differently.
She’s wearing jeans and a plain black tee. Other men might not find this outfit sexy, but it sends heat surging through me. It outlines her curves, her large breasts, her thick, wide hips, her strong legs, just her.
She’s less than half my age, but I don’t care. She wants to hire me to kill somebody for her, but I don’t care. I know she’s going to be mine. I know she’s going to…
Suddenly, Jackal yaps. He’s sitting at my feet. I didn’t lock the cage. He yaps again, his back legs shaking.
“It’s okay, boy,” I whisper, stroking him under the chin, but I’m not sure it is. I’ll never be okay again. Not until I make her mine.
My thoughts rush ahead to the future when I hold Katy in my arms. In my mind, I’m already whispering insane things in her ear. “You belong to me forever. You’re mine. I love you.”
I stand, causing Jackal’s head to snap after me when I begin pacing the room. This feeling is bad. Hell, feeling anything is bad for a man like me. I’m supposed to keep everything locked away. It’s easier like that. Close myself down. Make myself—and keep myself—cold so I don’t have to think about…
Gritting my teeth, I grab the cell phone and walk quickly through my apartment. Jackal is following close to me, looking up in concern, his tail stiff like he’s ready to dart toward an attacker. I take the phone into my office, into the custom-made crushing device in the corner. After a couple of rounds through this thing, nothing survives. It’s helped me eliminate evidence more times than I can count.
