by Sam Crescent
“The place has never been cleaner.”
Disappointment assaulted her. She was just the damn maid, and she had to remember that. He was any woman’s wet dream. Alesha tucked her fantasies back into her imagination where they belonged.
Chapter Two
The last thing Xavier should be doing was showing his very sexy housekeeper how to hold a gun. That was a big mistake on his part. What he also didn’t like was the look of disappointment in her eyes when he said the house had never been cleaner. What did he miss?
How could a compliment make her react that way?
He was trying to be nice, not something he usually bothered with.
Until she came along, his home had been a shithole.
Honestly, he didn’t like picking up after himself, and because he had plenty of money, when he was done with clothes, he tossed them. There was no time in his life for dirty laundry, cleaning dishes, or worrying about hydro and electric bills.
That shit, as sexist as it would sound, was woman’s work.
He had more important things to do.
“Will you get back in your fucking head?” Viper said. “I want to make it home to my wife and kid. You’re making so much noise the birds are getting distracted.”
They were flat out on a roof. The building beneath them was abandoned but would give them a perfect vantage point.
Their target?
One of the heads of a ring specializing in trafficking women.
Boss had a real beef when it came to trafficked women and children, so when the price was right, he was more than happy to make the kill. There were a lot of things Xavier knew about Boss and respected him for. If only the bastard would hand over everything he knew about his sister.
What he didn’t get was Boss’s conflicting interests when it came to women. He had women who worked at Killer of Kings.
Xavier had seen them. Deadly little women who didn’t look like they could harm a fly and yet he’d seen how evil they could be. With Boss though, there were the women that he killed, women that he fucked, and then civilian women that he suggested needed to be protected.
“What’s Boss’s issue with this guy?” he asked.
“It’s not our place to question why we do certain things. We get the job done and move on,” said Viper.
“I know what getting the job done means, asshole. Don’t you ever get curious?”
“I do about a minute each night before I go to bed when I can think about all the shit Boss makes me do. After that, I wait for the next call, and hope my kids don’t ever find out what I do.”
“I don’t know how you can have kids.”
“Again, El Diablo, I don’t give a fuck what you think. We all make a life from it. Boss gives us the opportunity to do our best work.”
Xavier snorted. “We’re not fucking artists.”
“Nah, we’re worse. We paint the streets in blood and watch other people pick up the pieces. I have no illusion that the place I’ll end up in is hell. I’ve got too many kills to think otherwise.”
“You believe in that shit?”
“I believe that when we die, it’s not the end of us. That we move on to another place. My wife, she’s the good part of everything. The light to my darkness. She’ll be in heaven.”
“But you’ll be in hell?” Xavier asked.
“I’ll be where I need to be. I know what kind of man I am.” Viper glanced toward him. “What kind of man are you? Are you even trustworthy? I know Boss has given you his vote, but I know who you are. You’ve been loyal to nothing and no one your entire life. You’d probably turn on all of us for the right paycheck.”
Xavier stared at Viper.
When he was younger, Viper wouldn’t have been wrong.
Growing up with nothing, he had no problem stabbing friends in the back to get what he wanted. They were in a dog eat dog world, and there was nothing anyone could do to save you. His mother sold them like dogs. His sister was taken from him, and he hadn’t seen her since. He knew how cruel the world was. A part of him hoped she’d been killed. That someone had the mercy to put a bullet in her brain so she would never know true pain.
That was his biggest fear—that his sister had lived a life similar to his.
The only thing that drove him in this world was his thirst for vengeance. To find the men that took his sister. To make them all pay.
He’d been one of the best locators in the world. He could find anyone, but his sister evaded him at every turn. Even with the breadcrumbs Boss had given him, she was still an enigma.
There was almost nothing he knew.
No way of finding her.
Boss had managed to get hold of information such as her port of entry and her alias. That information was his reason for joining Killer of Kings. But he needed more. Even if she was dead, he wanted to know the truth.
He’d be able to pay his respects and move on.
“Why did you agree to this assignment?” Xavier asked, smirking.
He didn’t care that little Viper didn’t like him.
Being liked in this world never helped anyone.
Viper shook his head. “You’re a fucking idiot if you think any of us has a choice in this. Boss tells us what to do, and we do it. I could be at home right now. Setting up a nice barbeque. My wife marinating some steaks. Instead I’m baking my balls off, waiting for this piece of shit to show up so I can blow his brains out. I have no desire to be here, but this is the price I have to pay.”
Xavier shrugged, watching through his lens. The apartment they were staking was impressive, even for his standards. It was spacious, and he saw the kitchen from his position—all top of the range gadgets that screamed money.
This was what he didn’t get. Crime wasn’t supposed to pay, and yet he’d taken down more rich criminals than he liked to think about.
The real truth was that crime paid the bills.
You got a couple hundred grand waiting for a cop to turn a blind eye, they’d take it. Businessmen were the same.
It sickened Xavier, especially as he’d been one of them. The temptation of money when he’d been poor had been too strong to turn down. It meant power and security.
He was no better than those pieces of shit, which was why he never looked in the mirror anymore.
There was a time he’d look into his eyes and remember the horrors he’d experienced. That drove him to keep on going. To make sure he never suffered at another’s hands again.
Only, as time went on, he came to see that the more he looked in his eyes, the more he realized he hated himself. He fucking hated what he saw.
The real monster was staring right back at him.
“We’ve got movement.” Tilting his lens, he saw six men enter the apartment.
There was a woman. She wore nothing, and for some reason he wondered why no one had stopped them. Her hands were bound, tape covered her mouth, and her face was bruised.
Xavier focused the lens as they moved to the apartment. The man, their hit, threw her across the room. With her hands bound, she crashed onto the table.
The men burst out laughing. One man pulled out a gun and fired, the glass table shattering. The broken glass cut her body as she dropped down.
“Wait for it,” Viper said. “We need a clear shot so we can take them all out.”
He was happy to wait.
Fucking cowards, beating the shit out of a bound woman. It hit too close to home. He envisioned his sister being tossed around like garbage, no one to defend her. She’d be about that woman’s age now.
“I counted six,” Viper said.
They only had visual on four.
Xavier was starting to get a little fucking irritated.
One of the men lifted her head up, slapped her face and then used his booted foot to crush her into the glass. He could imagine her screams.
Another man kicked her.
He’d had enough.
“Where the fuck are you going?”
He crawle
d toward the door. Once he was clear, he got to his feet and charged down the stairs. He didn’t give a fuck that this wasn’t Boss’s order.
This was not how he did business. Rushing across the road, he entered the apartment block. On the stairs, he saw one guard who was playing with a ball. All it took was a blade to the neck to kill the fucker. Before he could make a noise with his fall, Xavier lowered him gently on the ground. Taking the steps two at a time, he heard Viper growling in his ear, but he ignored that.
With his knives in his hands, he saw another man just outside of the door to the apartment. The other one they couldn’t get a visual on.
He’d checked out the entire layout of the two places.
With the next guard also dead, he leaned the body back against the wall.
“When I say, start shooting,” Xavier said.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Trust me.” Taking a deep breath, he thought about his sister. “Shoot!”
He kicked the door in, taking them by surprise.
Bullets shattered the glass of the windows.
He rushed up to the first man and attacked him with his knives. Bullets rushed past him, and he used the big guy’s body as a shield, moving his way deeper into the apartment.
Withdrawing his knives, he cut the second man’s throat, and then the guy he’d seen abusing the woman from above, he cut the bastard’s balls off, then sliced the guy’s throat, blood spraying out onto Xavier’s shirt.
Turning around in the space, he saw glass everywhere, and all the men were down.
“Xavier, get out of there.”
“The girl?” He looked at the broken glass table.
“They slit her throat, Xavier.”
He saw the blood pooling beneath her.
He was too late.
Once again, he’d failed.
“You can answer to Boss.”
****
Alesha woke up with a start.
Blinking the sleep from her eyes, she frowned as she heard the noise again. Something was moving downstairs.
The sound of banging and glass breaking drew her out from the bed. Wearing a pair of pajamas, she was in no way suited to deal with a potential intruder. Xavier said she would be safe here. Grabbing the baseball bat that she took with her to every place she stayed, she opened her bedroom door.
This was the first time an intruder had invaded her home.
Xavier’s home.
Not her home.
She only worked here. Just a housekeeper. The woman he kept to keep his life in line and perfectly neat. She cooked, cleaned, and ran the errands he asked for.
She was nothing more than a woman that blended into his life like a piece of furniture. Alesha was a couch.
Pain slashed through her at the thought of how little she meant to him. Not that she was supposed to mean anything to him. He was her boss. Nothing more, nothing less.
Getting to the stairs, she winced as they creaked beneath her weight.
When no one jumped out of her and she figured she was safe, she took the steps slowly, bracing herself against what she might face.
What if it was like out of a horror movie and they were wearing a scary mask and wielding a knife that would slash her into a thousand pieces? Or this was only a dream and she was about to be torn to bits by a man with knives for fingers? Note to self, never ever watch old seventies and eighties horror films before bed. She hated scary movies so much, but once they were playing, she needed to know what happened next.
Get a grip.
Once she cleared the stairs, she squeezed the bat tighter.
She’d never been good at baseball.
Stepping down the hall, she walked into the dining room where she saw a large shadow. She screamed and swung the bat, hitting something. The intruder didn’t stop though. Lifting the bat, she drew it back about to hit him again when he caught the bat and pulled it from her grip.
Before she knew what was happening, the intruder tugged her into his arms, holding her still. She screamed and fought with all of her might, but whoever had her knew what they were doing.
She couldn’t go anywhere.
He was so strong.
She was going to die.
She didn’t want to die.
There was still so much for her to do. Become a mother, a wife, know what really good sex was like.
“Will you fucking stop wriggling, woman? You’re going to hurt yourself or me or both of us.”
She froze.
That was Xavier’s voice.
Her boss.
Oh shit.
“That’s right. You’re hitting your fucking boss and all I was doing was grabbing a drink. If I let you go, promise you won’t try any of your deadly moves?”
She nodded. No longer struggling. There was no way she could use words right now.
What if she’d killed her boss? What if he sued her?
He paid her a good wage but not enough to take him on in court. Would she need a good lawyer? It would be bad enough losing this job.
Xavier flicked on the light.
She blinked a few times to get accustomed to the sudden brightness. When she did, she froze into place.
Xavier wore a white shirt and a pair of black pants. His feet were bare.
He held a bottle of whiskey in one hand.
He’d only been holding her with one arm?
The bat she’d been using for her attack lay on the ground at his feet.
“Fuck, is that how you greet every man that enters this house?” he asked.
She glanced down at her body and quickly crossed her arms over her chest.
“Nice tits. You don’t need to hide them. It’s not like I haven’t seen it all before. Believe me, there’s not much in this world I haven’t seen.”
His talk about her breasts was not what had her frozen in place.
The blood on his shirt was the reason. That and the scars she’d caught a glimpse of.
His back was to her right now as he poured some ice into a glass then added the whiskey.
Still rooted in place, she watched as he lifted the glass to his lips. “Want one?”
She shook her head. Words failed her. What was she to say?
“I’ve had a really fucking shitty day, Ashley.”
She frowned. “Alesha.”
“What?”
“My name’s Alesha, not Ashley.”
He started laughing, and she wondered if she’d said the wrong thing. Should you correct a crazy person who was drinking? She remembered her days working in bars and needing to watch her words around drunks. They always made her nervous.
He finished off his drink and poured another one. “Need to numb the pain.”
“You’re hurt?”
“Nah, I’m not hurt. Just … pissed off. I fucking hate men.”
She frowned.
“They’re all a bunch of fucking pigs. They think they can take what they want. Hurt women. Pisses me off.” He finished the drink and then poured another. “You know, there was a time I didn’t care. Women were to be used. A nice pair of tits, a cute ass, three holes to use. That’s how easy it was. Didn’t want to hear them talk. Wanted to hear them scream and moan. Simple. Easy.”
She was somewhat aroused and offended. This wasn’t good.
“Then I had to go and remember her. My sister. To think about those monsters. Those fucking pigs that hurt women. That take. That rape. That hurt. I can’t do that, and I will do everything to help. I didn’t help today.”
“Did someone hurt you?”
“This blood ain’t mine. You don’t hit very hard for a girl.” He squinted at her and then laughed manically. He was totally wasted. “You know you work for a monster, right? A nasty piece of shit. I’ve killed so many people.”
She swallowed past the lump in her throat.
“Yep, that’s me. I’m a taker of lives. So easy to do.” He held his hand out and squeezed his fingers together. “Snuffing out
life is so easy. So easy.”
He kept repeating the word easy, and the way he looked, she didn’t think for a second it was easy for him.
“I kill, Ashley.”
She wasn’t going to correct him this time.
If he was thinking about killing, the last thing she wanted was for him to kill her.
She didn’t want to die.
He drank another glass of whiskey. How many was that now?
She didn’t take a step back.
He was a killer. He had blood on his clothes, and rather than run, she wanted to give him a hug. When morning came, if she was still alive, she was going to have her head examined.
Biting her lip, she watched him, realizing she wasn’t afraid. She should be.
“I mean, they were hurting her today and laughing. Who laughs when you crush a woman’s face into glass? It’s not good. It’s not clean. She was just a slip of a thing. Hadn’t been fed and they just killed her. Boss was so angry.” He pressed a finger to his lips. “Don’t tell anyone but I’m part of a secret group.” His lips pursed together. “Yep, top secret group of assassins. Boss is our boss.” He started to laugh. “Tells us who to kill and when. I’ve been a bad boy. I shouldn’t be drinking. I shouldn’t be telling you this.” He let out a burp. “I don’t feel so great.”
There at her feet, she watched as Xavier passed out on the floor, the glass rolling out of his hand. Ice soaked the floor.
What the hell had she just witnessed?
Running away and telling the cops seemed like the right thing to do. Going to her knees, she lifted up his head, and checked his pulse. She didn’t want the cops to come.
Whoever this man was, he didn’t need the cops; he needed some serious help.
Chapter Three
Everything was dark.
A man groaned.
It took him a while to realize the sounds were coming from him, and his eyes were closed. His defenses immediately kicked in, and he shot up in the bed.
His head ached, and the light hurt his eyes. Bits and pieces slowly came back. He’d gotten drunk. No, fucking wasted.
Back in Colombia, when he’d ruled some of the worst gangs, he attributed much of his success to the fact he never touched the shit he dealt. No drugs. No alcohol. It had been the downfall of so many others.