I deserved it.
The phone rang again, but this time Spanky grabbed it and handed it to me. I tapped the button to turn on speaker phone and issued a weak greeting.
"Charley," a sinister voice sounded through the speakers, a voice I'd hoped never to hear again.
A snarl curved my lips at that deep tone and the malice that weighed on every syllable of my name. Spanky curled himself up on my chest, crinkling the fabric of my shirt in his hand to let me know he was there for me. And I thanked the heavens he was. That voice alone was enough to have anger and trepidation flowing through me like hot lava trying desperately to get out. As it was, I was still in the process of absorbing the dark magic I'd pulled from my victims, and with it, the pain they'd endured the past couple days. It was nearly enough to make me scream out but it was nothing I hadn't dealt with before.
Slade, on the other hand, was a pain I never wanted to revisit and a pain I wouldn't wish on my worst enemies.
"Charley," he sang, stretching out each syllable. "I can hear you breathing. You may as well answer, unless you'd like me to deliver my message personally."
That was the last thing I wanted. If just hearing his voice had this effect on me, I couldn't imagine how I'd react with him standing before me. As it was, I was fighting the urge to ask him to let me go to him, to throw myself at his feet and beg his forgiveness, while at the same time I wanted to kill him. I wanted to wrap my fingers around his neck and rip his head from his shoulders while laughing in his face. The fact the man still had that effect on me had me completely unnerved.
"You have three seconds, Charley. I guarantee you'll want to hear what I have to say."
"Unless you're calling to give me a name, I don't want to hear it," I sneered, holding back a cry of pain as I absorbed the last of the magic.
Pain lanced through me as the magic seemed to slice me up internally, lashing out at having been called back.
"I have more than a name. I have an address, too. But, first, I need something in return."
Surprise, surprise.
Slade never gave anything freely and I couldn't say I'd expected any different no matter what we'd meant to each other.
I listened to his price as if there was no way I'd take the deal, even knowing I would give him anything he asked for the information I needed. Once the deal was made, Slade gave me the information I needed before disconnecting the call. I wondered briefly if I'd paid too heavy a price, but that didn't matter. What mattered now was that I had a name and address, and I had shit to do.
***
Manuel Taylor. The name was far too proper to fit the thug who'd participated in the brutal murder of my mother years before, but it was the only name I had. I'd looked him up and had to admit, his resume was quite impressive. Somehow he'd managed to get a degree in accounting before getting a job at one of the top accounting firms in Hell's Point. He'd married a nurse named Cynthia Rowlings five years ago and they shared a beautiful little girl named Maige.
If his criminal life had any effect on his new life, I couldn't tell. The man was clean. He boasted no criminal record, perhaps due to him never being caught for the crimes he did commit. Either that, or he'd built an alias to hide from his past.
At first, I'd thought Slade had given me the wrong information on purpose but once I was able to get a picture of the man, I knew it was him. I could tell by the strong set of his jaw, the dark eyes with a halo of blue around the pupils, a remarkable trait I'd never seen on anyone else. He was dressed in an expensive dark suit, his arm draped possessively over a short, slender woman with hazel eyes, curly, dark hair, caramel skin, and a megawatt smile as she faced the camera. In her arms was an infant that was the perfect blend of the two, an innocent little girl who reached up a tiny hand toward her mother as the picture was taken.
I grimaced as I thought of him living the perfect life after everything he'd taken from me. He didn't deserve any of it. He didn't deserve the two story - five bedroom home nestled in a cul-de-sac in a gated community. He didn't deserve the all-american family, the Benz, or his name plastered across every newspaper in the city as they cataloged the life of a prominent member of Hell's Point. The fucker was going places, making a bid for Mayor as if he could do something to clean this city of crime. He couldn't. No matter how much he wanted to hide, I knew the truth. He was just as much of a criminal as those he wanted to drive out of the city and I couldn't wait to get my hands on him.
I watched as he walked through the double glass doors of a twelve story office building that housed some of the most lucrative businesses in the city. He was dressed to impress in a gray suit that hugged him in just the right places. It burned me up even more. He didn't deserve to be so handsome. He didn't deserve his face gracing the cover of magazines. Not after what he'd taken from me. But all of that would change. I knew that the moment he folded himself in the driver's seat of sleek black Mercedes. I was going to take it all down, watch his entire world crumble at his feet until he begged me to stop. Only then would he have my permission to die and I would grant him a cold painful death.
I shrouded myself in shadow and followed him to his home, watching as he reached into his back seat and plucked out a bouquet. It was cute the way he let out a nervous huff, his eyes flitting to the front door of a massive house as if he were nervous. I wondered why he'd be nervous. The man had the perfect life and I couldn't see any reason he'd feel anything more than happiness. That thought clawed at me as he exited the car and took the stone pathway past perfectly green grass to his front door. He rang the doorbell, something that felt off to me, and waited. I could see the nervousness tensing his muscles as he shifted his weight between his feet.
The door opened and I was met with the sight of the most beautiful little girl I've ever seen. Her chestnut curls were swept into a ponytail that cascaded down her small shoulders. She was dressed in a gown that fit her small frame perfectly, a lilac gown with a bodice that wrapped around her torso, giving way to a skirt that fanned around her. Matching bows held her hair in place.
She smiled up at her father as he took a knee before her, offering her the bouquet with a nervous grin.
"Maige, I'd like to take you on a date," he said, lowering his eyes as if he didn't deserve to look upon something so beautiful. He didn't. But that didn't stop him from casting his eyes upward when she took the bouquet from him. "I was thinking I'd take you out to dinner, then a movie."
I watched as her eyes lit up. She reached out her arms, tossing them around her father's neck as she fell into his arms. He held her close while Cynthia watched on, her lips turned up at the corners. The smile was....odd. I could tell she was happy with the attention her daughter was getting but there was something behind that smile that almost made it look fake, manufactured.
He looked up at her and I could tell by his expression he felt the same way. He issued her a gentle smile before standing to his feet, pulling his daughter into his arms. "I'll have her back by seven. Is that okay with you, Mrs. Taylor?"
"That'll be fine, but no funny business. My husband has guns and has no problem using them." The joke felt forced, but she let out a good-natured laugh before stepping toward them and planting kisses on both their cheeks.
I followed the duo for the rest of the night, watching as he took his daughter on his version of a date. The three-year-old never stopped smiling up at her father, happy to get as much attention from him as she could and he seemed more than happy to give it. He'd explained several times he wanted to show her how she deserved to be treated and I couldn't help but be impressed. He was a good father, normalizing healthy relationships before she was even old enough to understand.
It tugged at my heart in a way I hadn't expected.
I didn't want to feel anything about the man and that would have been easier if he didn't have a family. If he didn't have a connection to people who would be hurt by his loss. Hell, I knew the emptiness of never having met my father. I knew wha
t that had done to me, but with this little girl, it would be different. She got to know and love the man before her, meaning his loss would affect her in ways even I couldn't understand.
I had a lot of thinking to do.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN: UNKNOWN
"You coming or going, ma'am?" The man at the reception desk of the motel looked at me, raising a brow.
"Coming," I told him sharply, my eyes glancing around to our surroundings. I didn't like being out in the open for too long, especially not when I was in the middle of one of the most important jobs of my life. But due to unfortunate circumstances, I had no other choice.
The man gave a nod, removing his feet from the desk in front of him to slide his chair up to the computer. A pink fluorescent light shined down on him from the vacancy sign just behind his head. The light was unforgiving, exposing the weathered skin of the man and the deep bags beneath his eyes. One sniff of the air exposed that he'd probably smoked about ten packs of cigarettes that day alone.
He slammed his hand down on the computer, letting out a swear under his breath about shitty technology. My nose crinkled and a part of me wanted to just turn around and walk the Fuck out of the dump, but I had nowhere else to go and it was no one's fault by my own.
I'll be happy when this shit job is over and I can return to the comfort of my own bed.
"Alright, what are we looking at, twin, Queen, or king bed?" He asked, lifting his eyes from the computer screen.
"Whatever's cheapest," I told him. It wasn't an actual thing of money though, but the fact I knew it didn't matter what kind of bed I had because I wouldn't be sleeping in it often.
"Alright," he pecked at the keyboard some more. "How long you staying?"
"Don't know yet." I retrieved one of the many credit cards with someone else's name on it I owned. "Just keep the card on file. I'll let you know when I'm going."
He gave a nod, entering in my card information before holding out a key with a bright pink tag on the end of it.
I frowned at it for a moment before taking it and my card from his hand.
"206, just down the hall to the right, a little past the ice maker."
"Thanks." I turned on my heels, heading in the direction he instructed. I tossed my bag over my shoulder, letting the weight of my supplies bare down on my shoulder.
When I got to the room, I quickly unlocked the door and headed in. The room smelt like pine and mildew. I glanced at the ugly brown carpet, knowing it probably hadn't been clean in years. The bed sitting in the middle of the room was probably just as dirty, but having no other options, I tossed my bag onto the bed, watching as the mattress dipped beneath the weight.
I blew out a deep breath a moment before my phone beeped with a text message. I opened the screen, rolling my eyes when I saw the name on the screen.
Torrence: Are you still in town?
I didn't bother with a reply, stuffing my phone back in my pocket even as it vibrated with another text. I moved over to my bag, cursing as I thought about the unnecessary move that was a consequence of my own making.
I'd been watching her again, sitting in the line of trees that peered right into her room where she'd brought the vampire back home and finally fucked him. I'd observed, detaching myself from the actual actions going on in the house. I'd decided I'd allow myself to feel the heat I'd ignored later, after she was no longer a problem. But allowing it to happen in the moment would only be a mistake, one I was too smart and too well-trained to make.
Just like the mistake with the vampire. It shouldn't have been made.
But I'd been tracking his movements as he walked through the house since the girl was still sleep in her bed. I'd changed positions in the treeline, making sure I could see him no matter where he went, but I'd neglected to think about the fact I was leaving the spot in which the spell that kept me undetected was. I'd forgotten the shield keeping sounds and smells from leaking out only reached so far.
And that was when the vampire heard me.
I knew it the moment he paused and when he started walking in the direction of where I was, I knew exactly what was going to happen. He'd find me.
And I'd have to kill him.
Which wouldn't have been a problem, but it wasn't a part of my job. I had one true target and for the time being she was supposed to remain alive. If I killed the vampire right on her doorstep, it'd cascade into a chain reaction in which more problems would arise for me.
So I'd kept my steps light as I made my way back over to my original position behind the shield. I'd grabbed my rifle and lain on the ground, covered by the thick and tall grass. I was prepared to shoot the vampire if he came any further, one in the head and one in the chest with silver bullets.
He wouldn't survive.
However, he'd turned around and that was best for him. But I'd been rattled by the situation and it'd called for a change.
I couldn't risk being compromised in any way when I was on the most important job of my life. So I'd grabbed my bag from the old hotel I'd been staying in across town which was a thousand times nicer than the new one. I'd made the drive here, berating myself the entire time, especially since the move costed me time I could be using to watch her. Some would think of it as overkill, I called it leaving no stone unturned.
My phone began to buzz again in my pocket, but this time it was due to a call. I let out a deep sigh before pulling it from my pocket even though I already knew who it was.
I quickly silenced the phone before making my way over to my bag and grabbing a change of clothes from beneath the mirage of weapons. I shoved the bag under my bed and moved to the shower, quickly getting changed.
Once out, I grabbed my handgun from my bag, glanced at the screen of my phone and looked at the amount of missed calls I had. I unsilenced it, turning it back to vibrate, but I blocked the caller, something I should have done the moment I got into town.
Pulling my hair back into a curly ponytail, I pulled the hood up on my jacket and made my way out onto the streets of Hell's Points. I knew exactly where I would find the girl. She'd become predictable in the time that I watched her. And after looking at the computer records, I knew she'd be pursuing the banker.
Her phone call with Slade confirmed it.
Even though the shifter and vampire told her not to, she was going to go off on her own after the baker. She'd already done it once, following the man around town as he went on a date with his daughter. But there was no doubt she would return. And I was going to watch her the entire time, waiting to see what she would do.
I knew exactly how it was going to go, but I wanted to confirm for myself.
I made my way to the address of the banker and sure enough, standing a couple houses down was the girl. She wasn't subtle in the least, her rainbow hair sticking out, bright and impossible to miss. Her shoulders were set into a deep drag and I could see the frown on her face from where I stood.
She moved closer to the house, peering into one of the open windows at a distance in which she still remained safe from being seen.
A woman I recognized as his wife, appeared in the window.
Unlike the girl, I'd done my research already and I knew the people living inside the house as if they were my own family.
And I'd already dug into them enough to find out more than a few interesting things. Starting with the fact the wife was a stay at home mom and her life was an absolute shit show, hidden by fake smiles, long sleeves, and a cluster of makeup. Her husband came home and beat her ass on the regular. Scratching, cutting, hitting, he did it all to her. And she covered every scar up, being the perfect docile wife.
Being weak.
The husband moved into the room, sitting down at the table across from the kid who had her head in her hand. The wife smiled as she moved to the table, placing a large rotisserie chicken down, the steam still drifting off of the chicken. The apron around her waist looked like something out of a cosmo magazine from the 30s telling
a woman how to keep her man satisfied. It disgusted me.
The girl continued to watch them, her shoulders deflated. After a moment, she took a step back, still watching. Finally, she turned on her heel, moving away from the open window.
Oh how I wished she proved me wrong, proved she wasn't weak.
When you're on a mission you can't let little things such as a family stop you. But I knew that was going to be the case with the girl as soon as I found the background on the man. While she was a wildcat, reckless and untamed, she wasn't a real hit woman.
I was a hit woman.
She was a little girl trying to wear shoes far too big for her and two steps in she was already tripping.
She hit the sidewalk, her head down as she made her trek away from the house, in the direction of her home.
As I walked behind her, I hoped, prayed, she would snap. That she'd have one of the many split-second personality changes I'd witnessed and let her monster out. I'd seen it when she killed Gerald a few weeks ago. I'd watched in fascination as she ripped the skin from his bones, as she stared at him with a wicked grin on her face as he screamed.
When she'd killed the circus man, I'd been impressed considering I'd started to believe she wasn't as soft as I believed. And she'd even managed to talk the shifter into being the one to pull the metaphorical trigger.
And then she'd used her dark magic on those people in the club without even a little hesitation. They'd die a slow, miserable death, but only after they mentally spiraled out of control. It'd be beautiful.
But now her true colors were showing and they showed the rainbow haired girl didn't have a soul dark enough to do what it takes.
My disappointment only increased as she got further and further away from the house, showing no signs of turning around and changing her mind.
Sad.
I knew it was for the best. I'd already found the girl physically attractive, her slim waist and round ass right up my alley. But my Achilles heel had always been the dark souls, the ones who would bathe in the blood of our victims with me. The ones cut from the same cloth as me.
Nowhere to Run: A Dark Paranormal Villain Romance (Midnight Renegades Book 1) Page 10