I'll Do Anything (The Challenge Night Series Book 1)

by K. L Mann

  I’ll Do Anything

  By: K.L Mann

  Copyright ©

  All Rights Reserved

  Intellectual Property of K.L Mann

  Editor: C.J Mann & K.L Man

  Author’s Official Social Media

  Tiktok– @Kassandramann

  Instagram– @Kindakassiee

  Wattpad– @Kassandramannauthor

  For My Love,

  for fighting for us, always & forever.

  Author’s Note

  Thank you for picking up I’ll Do Anything, my first romance novel. When I decided I was going to write Katherine’s story, it was originally a dream. Her life is full of things that would be too much for any normal person to handle, but she has a special way of suppressing her past. Meeting Lorenzo hurts and helps her in ways she didn’t know she needed. This story is a dark romance with many different themes, secretive characters, and truths to uncover as you read along.

  Triggers Include:

  Alcohol Abuse

  Violence Including Murder

  Depression & Emotional Breakdown

  Discussion of Sex Trafficking & Loss of a Child

  Warnings:

  Testing the limits with fear based or non–traditional rough sex can be exhilarating. However, both partners need to be educated and confident with their safety in doing so. Safe words, or safe ‘hits’ can be used to end rough play; please use them to keep yourself from sustaining any injuries.

  Breathe play, or choking has a wrong and a right way of being executed. Please, make sure your partner knows how to choke you correctly.

  The only safe way for gun play to be done is to remove your weapons firing pin, or use a prop or practice gun. Without this, there is no guarantee of preventing an accident.

  Knife play should only be done with experienced or educated partners and the knife should never be pointed at major arteries

  Katherine’s Playlist

  Prisoner– Aaron Levy, Daniel Ryan Murphy, and Raphael Lake

  Sucker For Pain– Logic, Ty Dolla Sign & X Ambassadors

  Panic Room– Au/Ra

  Unforgettable– French Montana

  I Think I’m Okay– Machine Gun Kelly, Yungblud & Travis Barker

  Hurts So Good– Astrid S.

  Rx– Theory Of A Deadman

  Love The Way You Lie– Eminem Ft. Rhianna

  Stay High– Tove Lo

  You Don’t Own Me– SAYGRACE ft. G-Eazy

  Why Are You Here– Machine Gun Kelly

  Killing Strangers– Marilyn Manson

  La Canción– Bad Bunny x J. Balvin

  Bad Things– Machine Gun Kelly

  Control– Halsey

  Burn It To The Ground– Nickelback

  Him & I– G–Eazy

  The Harold Song– Ke$ha

  Give Me Love– Ed Sheeran

  Never Let Me Go– Florence and The Machine

  Preface

  My life has never been simple, or peaceful. Chaos and death have always found their way back to me, no matter how far I run. Eventually, I stopped trying to fight. I learned to accept the way fate attacks me. I accepted being taken, I accepted being removed from everything and everyone I know. I could have fought back; I could have shot first, but I didn’t. I put my life on the line for my husband and all of my old wounds were reopened. I’m living the life my father sought to forbid me from. I’ll never be the same as I once was, for better or for worse.

  Chapter 1: Kill Me

  The doctors have finally left the room. My ears were ringing the entire time they explained my husband’s condition to me anyways. I only caught the gist, four gunshot wounds, and a brain bleed. He’s stable, he’s unconscious but he’s stable.

  I had become accustomed to small injuries over the years. Cuts, bruises and concussions; but I wasn’t ready for this. I should have gotten pulled over on my way here. I drove recklessly and I swear I almost passed out twice.

  “Wrong place, wrong time.” Price, my husband's best friend says. He’s in the hospital bed next to James’. My back is to him as I’m sitting next to James.

  Price is conscious and yet I can’t look at him. I can’t believe he let this happen.

  “You’re always in the wrong place.” I grit through my teeth. Where Price goes, James follows trying to keep him out of trouble. “You aren’t even on a mission, you’re both home, and now James won’t wake up!” Tears pool in my eyes but I don’t let them fall.

  Price only took one gunshot; his head is fine and he has no spouse. No one who cares enough to visit him. It should have been him.

  “I’m sorry, Kate. I really am.” Price seems sincere and I hate it.

  I need him to shut up.

  “Go to sleep, Myers. Your morphine is going to knock you out in a minute anyways.”

  Minutes later I hear his faint snores. Peace.

  Machine beeps, clocks ticking, and breathing fill the room. The hospital is quiet and it is making my stomach hurt. All I can think about is whether or not he’d wake up.

  He has to wake up, he’s all I have left.

  I was in a meeting when I got the call. I’m still uncomfortably in a black pencil skirt that has a slit running up the back, and a silk white blouse that I’ve untucked. I kicked off my black stilettos an hour ago. My hair is in a disheveled high ponytail and curls are falling in my eyes.

  I’m resting my head on his bedside. The blankets are cold and smell sterile. I haven’t cried yet; I won’t let myself. Tears burn my face and it hurts. I hate the look of tears in my eyes, but I hate them on my face even more.

  The door clicks.

  “Any updates–” I begin to ask.

  As I lift my head, expecting a nurse, my heart stops. A tall man in all black stands just inside of the door. He looks more like a shadow than a man, the dim lights are hiding his face from me.

  He’s silent.

  Instinctually, I’m reaching inside of my purse, searching for safety. My hands are hidden behind the hospital bed and my heart is beating out of my chest.

  “Can I help you?” I manage to whisper.

  My hand can’t move fast enough, quiet enough.

  The man walks further into the room. I can see him clearly now. His black hair is slicked back but messy and his neck and hands are covered in black and white tattoos. The man moves his hand to the side of his hip and silver catches my eye.

  We draw our guns at the same time.

  His gun pointed at James, and mine pointed at him. He somehow raises an eyebrow at me, while not taking his focus from James. I should have drawn faster, now I can’t focus. I can’t think of James being shot in front of me. Worry flushes over me.

  I can see his finger start to shift.

  “Wait! Don’t!” I’m whispering with force; he can hear me.

  I know yelling won’t save James. Men like this man don’t enter a hospital to assassinate someone without assurances. His finger stills, but his weapon remains targeted on my husband.

  “Please– please don’t.” I’m struggling to breathe.

  I can’t think fast enough.

  I could kill him, I could shoot him, but I know he can pull his trigger just as fast. My hands are shaking.

  “What did he do?” A tear falls down my cheek. Fuck. “Please wait.” I take a chance, a stupid dumb bitch chance.

  I slowly shift my aim from him and put the gun down on the hospital bed, closer to him than me. I move my hands up, showing him they’re empty.

  “I– I don’t know who you are, but please don’t do this.” Another tear falls and I’m shaking. “Kill me instead.” I don’t know why I said it, but I did. “
Or take me, I’ll do anything you want.”

  I hear his breathing get heavier. His gun is still pointed directly at James, but now he’s looking at me. He’s looking at me the way a lion looks at its prey. My whole body feels numb yet somehow in pain.

  I’m scanning him for details, like I’ve been trained to do. He’s tan and I think his eyes are brown. I’m stammering, my mind is screaming at me to speak.

  “Anything.” I repeat myself. I don’t know what I’m doing. “I can work for you or something and– and I’m a good shot.” I look down at my .45, I shouldn’t have put it down. “I can do whatever you want. I don’t know what he did to make... whoever you are mad. But killing him would be too easy, wouldn’t it be more tortuous to take his wife?”

  I’m grasping at straws here.

  “Anything?” He finally speaks.

  His voice is deep and the darkness that surrounds him feels endless. It rattles me when I realize I have a chance.

  “Yes, yes, anything.” I promise.

  “The one in that bed.” He points to Price, completely dead asleep. “That’s Myers Price?” He asks like he already knows. He wants me to say it.

  “Yes.” I swallow.

  There is a pause of dead air, my skin chills.

  “Kill him.”

  My mouth goes dry. A smirk appears on his face.

  His teeth are too white. Did he just say kill him?

  “K–kill him?” I stutter again. I sound ridiculous.

  “Yes. If you kill him, James Manner here gets to live, and you get to come with me.” He says that like I’ve won the lottery.

  “I don’t know if–”

  “You don’t have time to decide.” The man moves closer to James and I jump.

  “Okay!” I speak too loudly. Price doesn’t move, he still snores. Shit shit shit. Think! My brain is yelling at me and I’m dizzy. “I need your help.” I whisper.

  “You can’t kill a man on your own?” He scoffs.

  I turn to stand next to Price.

  “Just… trust me? Hold the gun at me while you stand here.” I point at my side. “I won’t try anything.”

  Am I really doing this? I can’t try anything; I know nothing about my opponent. That’d be so stupid. I’m not stupid, breathe.

  My palms are sweating, I rub them off on my skirt. The man does as I ask. He stands at my side with the barrel on my ribs. His breath heats the back of my neck and I feel like I’m frozen.

  “I need your finger.” I’m holding back my tears but a few stupid ones fall. He holds it out, it’s tattooed as well but I can’t tell what it’s supposed to be. “I’m going to put this on you, and you're going to put it on James.” I point to the pulse oximeter. “I can’t put it on my own finger because I’m pretty sure I’m having a heart attack right now. I can’t take it off for long enough to only bring it to James, the monitors will go off and the nurses will come in. Once it’s on James, I’ll kill him. Okay?”

  He stares down at me and he nods. He smells like fire and vanilla and it’s overwhelming me. The heat of his body is radiating on to mine.

  Swiftly, I move the technology on to the man, and the man moves it on to James while keeping his aim at my back.

  My plan works. James has two pulse oximeters and Price has none. I didn’t want to think this far, and now I have to kill him. My husband’s best friend, a man he’s fought with. A man he’d probably die for, and I’m going to be his undoing.

  I hate myself.

  “How are you going to end him?” The man asks in my ear.

  Chills run down my spine and the hair on the back of my neck stands. He’s enjoying this. His gun is back to being pressed against my ribcage.

  “Uhm. I’m going to use this…” I pick up a white pillow at the end of Price's bed. He didn’t want to sleep with it earlier, and now it was going to kill him. “I need to uhm, get on top of him.” I rasp.

  The gun isn’t on my ribs any more, it’s pointed at my head. I have no idea if he will kill me when I finish, or if he will make good on his word.

  I make myself execute my plan either way.

  I pull myself up and straddle Price as quietly as humanly possible. I don’t hesitate for fear that he’ll wake up. I press the pillow as hard and as fast as I can against his face. I feel his body jerk as I do.

  Price is awake now and he’s fighting. I lift one of my knees up and pin down one of his arms with it. I’m pushing harder and harder against his face. I can feel his mouth gasping for air underneath my hands. I’m focused on his breathing, terrified he might overpower me. His wound is debilitating him, he can’t fight hard enough. His attempts to pull me off of him become weak.

  He stops flailing.

  He’s limp.

  I’m frozen on top of him.

  I’m gasping for air as the man lowers his gun. I take my hands off of the pillow and run them through my hair. I can’t stop panting; no air is satisfying the emptiness I feel in my lungs.

  “Time to go.” I hear his dark voice.

  I'm still alive, he hasn’t killed James or I.

  I want to feel relief but it won’t come.

  The man is picking up my shoes, my purse and my gun. He puts my gun in the back of his pants. The man stares at me and mumbles something I can’t hear. He looks mad that I haven’t moved.

  I need to move.

  I climb off of Price’s corpse, place the pillow behind his head and straighten his blanket from my indents.

  “I need to put his pulse oximeter back on him right before we leave. How are we leaving?” I asked with the little breath I can suck in.

  My adrenaline is skyrocketing. I killed my husband's best friend. I’m being kidnapped, I might be killed. James might not even wake up.

  “Angel, you could have shot him in the face and we would have been able to walk out of here with his brains dripping off of the wall behind him. The cameras are down and the staff will ignore us. Time to go.”

  He grabs the pulse oximeter and places it back on Price’s body. The machine flat lines and he grabs my arm to pull me with him.

  I’m barefoot, my shoes are in my purse, he’s carrying my purse and my gun is in the back of his pants.

  I killed Price.

  We’re outside of the hospital before I can even register that we left the room. He walks fast and with purpose and he holds my arm tight enough to bruise.

  “Get in.” He demands as he nudges me to a blacked-out Cadillac Escalade.

  I do as I’m told. I feel like I’m on autopilot.

  I can’t wake myself up. I pull myself into the passenger seat and buckle up. I’m pushing air out of my mouth, forming a rhythm to soothe my panic. The man tosses my purse into the back seat and buckles his own seatbelt.

  “I’m Kate.” I don’t know why I tell him my name; the words just came out. I couldn’t handle the silence.

  “I know.” He starts the car and we’re moving throughout the city I’ve always hated living in.

  New York is great to visit, but living here has always made me feel uncomfortable. James hates it even more than I do. We only stay here for my work, I convert bestselling novels into tv scripts, and I am very good at it. James escapes whenever he can on deployments. They aren’t deployments anymore, he retired from the military three years ago. Price and James were in Black Ops together until they decided they wanted out. They are mercenaries now.

  Well, Price isn't, not anymore.

  My eyes are full of tears that I’m forcing to stay there. I don’t want this man to see me cry. I don’t know who he is, but he is terrifying.

  Twenty minutes go by and we’re at an airfield. There’s a private plane surrounded by a few cones and some men in black suits.

  “We’re leaving New York?” I whisper, not intending for the man to answer.

  “You think I live in this dump?” He scoffs, getting out of the car and grabbing my purse. He didn’t tell me to get out, but he didn’t tell me to stay either. I open my door slowly befor
e he opens it all the way. “Get on the plane, Kate.”

  I want to say no. I want to resend my offer of anything, but I want James to live. I killed Price and I won’t let it be for nothing. I nod and do as I’m told. I’m still not wearing shoes, but the pavement is smooth enough that I don’t mind. If anything, it cools down the fever I feel brewing.

  The plane is cold when I step on it and my blouse is nearly sheer. I shiver once but don’t complain. He points me to a cream-colored leather seat, implying it’s mine. I sit in it slowly, watching him carefully.

  I pull down my hair from its tie and rub my fingers against my scalp to soothe it. Everything hurts, my body feels like I have just run a marathon.

  Price was strong and if he hadn’t been injured, he would have overpowered me. I’m not super small. I’m 5’7 and decently muscular, I can hold my own in a fight. But my body is not an assassin’s body, my curves have always been stubborn. I have a sort of thinner stomach but my hips and shoulders have always been wider than I cared for.

  If I didn’t work out daily to alleviate stress, I wouldn’t have the upper body strength to kill Price. I haven’t been in the mindset to take a man down in far too many years. I shouldn’t have been as nervous as I was that I might fail. I used to have more confidence. I could have picked another method, but I needed to think fast on my feet. I had no time.

  My mind is racing and cloudy all at once. I need the man to talk to me. I need something to take my mind off of everything that just happened. Even the plane engine was quieter than I thought it would be.

  The interior of the plane is so different than he is. Everything is white or cream colored and plain, no pattern or designs of any kind. Yet he is dressed in black tapered slacks, a black button down, black Italian shoes and a black metal watch. His eyebrows and hair are as dark as night and his eyes only have tiny flakes of green to break up the darkest shade of brown I have ever seen. His hands, neck, and arms have black tattoos all over them.

  Who is this man? He looks like a movie.

  There are two other men in the back of the plane typing on identical phones, black Blackberry’s. They don’t speak to me when I look at them. One is blonde, pale, and shorter but his arms are basically bursting his shirt's seams. The other is dark haired and olive toned but he’s more cut than built, older too.