“I got a job for you, not too far from where you are right now,” he informs me. “Asshole dealing on Heaven’s turf.”
Fuck.
“Yeah, okay. Send me the deets and I’ll head out.” I hang up before he can ask anything more about the subject of my obsession. Turning, I head back to my bike and hop on, starting the engine and pulling out of the lot. I’ll be back tomorrow. She’ll be there once again, and I’ll be jerking my cock thinking about how tight her perfect cunt must be.
The information from Fletcher comes when I stop for gas about two miles down the road. I punch the address into my GPS, and I make my way toward the asshole who thinks he’s God. He isn’t. I know God, met the fucker when he hired me, and now I’m one of his best angels.
When I pull up to the house in question, I note one car in the drive and a guy sitting on the porch. Security? I think not. It doesn’t take me long to pull out my 9mm and stalk up to the little shit who may just piss himself when his gaze locks on mine.
“Who are you? Are you here to—”
I don’t wait. The bullet is between his eyes before he has time to utter another word. Stepping over his body, I lift a black boot and kick the door from its hinges. A squeal of surprise comes from inside, and I notice a pretty little blonde racing from the kitchen into the living room.
I turn to where she was headed and find the man I need. He’s high, fucked out of his skull. “Hey man,” he grins, holding up a joint, pulling in deep before exhaling a cloud of sickly smoke.
One thing I don’t do—drugs.
Give me a good Scotch or a beer any day, but this is the shit that puts you in the ground fast. I don’t respond. Instead, I lift the glass coffee table, turning it on its side, sending all his paraphernalia flying through the air.
“What the fuck, man?” he bites out, suddenly more awake than he had been. He’s on his feet, but I’m taller. I’m more fucking dangerous than some prick knocked off his head on weed.
With my cigarette perched between my lips, I smile, lift the gun, point it right at his crotch, and utter, “God sends his regards,” before I pull the trigger.
The asshole drops to his knees, his hands cupping what’s left of his crown jewels. The blonde pops up from behind the sofa with a screech that could wake the fuckin’ dead. I should leave her be, but she’s seen my face. I should’ve covered up. Fuck it. I point the barrel at her and pull the trigger. No use leaving witnesses. They only cause shit later on.
Another glance at my mark, and I take in the slump of his shoulders. Just to make sure I’ve done my job, I put another burning hot piece of metal in his head. His crumpled form is evidence enough.
Pulling my cell out, I tap the camera and hit the button. Once the photo is sent to Fletch, I head out of the house and down to my bike. I thought there’d be people in the street after hearing the gunshot, but I guess they’re all hiding indoors.
I would too.
The rumble of my engine is music to my ears, and I tug my face mask up to cover my mouth and nose before I pull onto the road and head down toward my cabin.
It’s time to get away for a couple of days. I’ve always liked being in the woods, where it’s quiet. Where my mind can focus on what it needs to recoup. With the work I do, I can’t afford to be distracted.
And that’s where my little problem comes in.
Maeve Bianchi.
A pretty Catholic nun who I should never have met. Two months ago, I walked into the convent and stole a crucifix for the boss, but before I could get away, Maeve walked smack bang into me.
I recall her pretty smile when she looked up at me. My dark eyes, black hair, and inked skin must’ve been a shock for her. A good one, apparently, because she offered me a cup of tea.
I don’t drink tea.
But I did take something else, I stole her lips and kissed her until she whimpered. Who knew a nun could kiss like a whore? I turned around and walked out without a glance over my shoulder.
Each time I follow my little nun, I think of that kiss. Perhaps one day I’ll get the boss man to hire her. With those sultry eyes and that pouty mouth, she’ll certainly be as deadly as I am.
I pass a sign on the side of the highway telling me I have another few hundred miles to go. I don’t care, the further out of town I can get, the better. Wind whips at my face, but I don’t slow down. If anything, I speed up.
Maeve
Hallowed be Thy Name
The sound of the front door rattles through me, and I wonder what’s going to happen tonight. In the dark, silence is more welcome than the sounds of my parents coming home.
A girly giggle filters through the house, and I shut my eyes so tight, focusing on the way the cotton sheets feel against my skin. I want to cry, but if Daddy or Mommy walk into my room, I know I’ll be in trouble. They don’t like when I’m awake late at night.
Another laugh comes from the living room, and then I hear glasses. Moments later, there’s the smell of smoke, and I inch out of bed. I’m at the door, peeping through the keyhole when I see the girl they’ve got here tonight. She’s sitting beside a man I don’t know.
They’re dressed in expensive clothes. Even though the view is blurry, I can tell. Mainly because Mommy and Daddy don’t wear anything that’s expensive.
They keep up the ruse of being God-fearing people by going to church, praying with the congregation and smiling at everyone as if innocence drenched them in its sickly-sweet fragrance.
“Prayer is important,” I hear Daddy telling them. Maybe they’re getting married, and he’s going to be the pastor. “In this house, we pray all the time. God is good, He brings us blessings when we least expect them.”
“I’m thankful to have found your parish. My daughter has been in so much trouble, so when we moved here, just this morning, the first thing I wanted to do was meet with you.” The stranger tells Daddy. That’s when I notice how young the girl beside him is.
I watch in awe as he nudges her and she rises. Wearing a long black dress, she smiles before she slips the material down. It falls to the ground, and she’s now standing in only a pair of panties.
“Yes, she’s perfect,” I hear Daddy tell the man. “What do you think, Patricia?” Daddy asks my mom.
“I think she’ll do nicely. Come here,” Mommy tells the girl, and then I lose sight of her. Mommy must be sitting closer to the living room window because it’s not in line with the hallway.
“I’m glad,” the man says before standing up and shrugging on a jacket. He lifts the glass to his lips and takes a gulp, emptying it of whatever was in there. Daddy takes him to the door, which I can see from where I am. Suddenly, Dad glances over his shoulder as if he can see me, causing me to stumble backward, falling onto my butt.
I scurry back to my bed, shoving myself under the covers and curling into a ball, praying to God that he doesn’t come to check on me. Does he know I saw them? I mumble my prayers, asking for them not to come to me. Not to make sure I’m sound asleep because I know I can’t pretend with my heart racketing in my chest, thudding in my ears.
For the first time in my life, I’m truly afraid they will kill me. When I first saw them hurt that girl, I realized something was truly wrong with my family. That was a week ago. Tonight, they have another girl here, one whose daddy left her in the care of my parents. A girl who I know will never see her daddy again.