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Chapter
One
This shit is taking too long.
Carter tugged his skully down, rolled his shoulders back, then clutched his left hand over his right wrist. He held a FNX – 45 Tactical with a Gemtech silencer. The FNX just happened to be Carter’s go-to. The 45 was subsonic, a fat, slow round, which made it fairly quiet without a suppressor. The Tactical had an oversized trigger guard which made it a comfortable shoot for large, gloved hands like his.
His stance was dominant. Legs shoulder width apart, but his posture was relaxed. Carter was never tense when he was on a job. He thoroughly researched, played out all scenarios in his head, and had a plan for each possibility. Tonight, the job was easy. The fourth name on his kill list.
Once the job was complete, he was a step closer to returning to the person who consumed his thoughts and fucked with his ability to focus. She shouldn’t have mattered. Three days wasn’t shit compared to the lifetime of women he had experienced, but McKenna had somehow managed to do what others before her couldn’t.
She gave Carter Reed hope that he could be happy; that he deserved something good regardless of all the bad he’d done.
As soon as the door clicked, all thoughts of McKenna vanished and Carter’s focus was on the man who entered the suite. The guy’s head was bowed while he gave his attention to the device in his hand. Even as the target navigated through the living room, placing his briefcase on the sofa, shrugging out of his jacket, and yanking at the knot of his tie to loosen it from his neck, he was oblivious to Carter’s presence.
Dumb fuck.
“You should probably put the phone down because you only get one shot at convincing me of why I shouldn’t put a bullet in your head.”
Gerald Browning—forty-six, owner and CEO of Browning Investments—was the youngest person on the kill list. The other five names were in their late fifties, early sixties. All very wealthy men who owned prosperous businesses they used as fronts for their illegal activities. Gerald’s transgressions were mild in comparison to the other men who decided it was best to put a hit out on Carter instead of risking their ill deeds being publicized. But still, he’d agreed, so tonight he would die.
“Who are you?”
Carter smirked and lifted the gun. The red dot in his scope rested dead center on Gerald’s forehead. “If you move your fingers one millimeter, I’m going to drop your ass.” Being observant, Carter noticed Gerald’s grip tighten on the device but he hadn’t made a relevant move. He was considering his options.
Can I call for help?
Internally, Carter answered for him. No muthafucker, you can’t.
“What do you want?” The shaky, uneven tone brought a smile to Carter’s face. People like Gerald were always in dick swinging contests until shit got real, the false bravado created by their money—money they assumed protected them and elevated their status—failed.
“I want you to tell me why you deserve to live, and for the record, there’s no answer you can give that will stop me from pulling this trigger within the next…” Carter lifted his right hand and checked the time. He had six minutes to finish the job or risk being caught on camera. The hotel’s security cameras would only be on loop for another ten minutes. Carter was meticulous, so he was only allowing himself five minutes.
“I don’t know what you expect me to say, can you at least tell me who you are?”
“You don’t know?”
“If I did, I wouldn’t have fucking asked.”
Carter angled his head to the side. “Careful, Gerald. Your tone is very fucking disrespectful and considering I’m here to kill you, you might want to curb that shit.”
“Okay, fine, please, tell me who you are,” he stated calmly through a clenched jaw.
“Carter Reed and you have three minutes.”
Gerald’s eyes widened. He exhaled a slow breath with the realization that he was about to die.
“It wasn’t my idea. I had no intention of following through.”
“Doesn’t matter. You agreed. You led them to believe that you would do whatever necessary, which means there’s money in circulation with the intent of some lucky bastard being smart enough to end me. For the record, it will never fucking happen. I learned my lesson, one slip. It won't happen again.”
“I didn’t…”
“You did. One million dollars. That’s what you transferred to Jessup to pay for the hit on me. All because you were too much of a pussy to tell them no. Two minutes left, Gerald.”
His pulse became erratic. Carter could see the vein in his neck pulsing. “How much? Name your price and I’ll pay.”
“I don’t want your fucking money. I want your life, one minute. Beg, but you better do it fast.”
