Hard to Get (Killer of Kings Book 4)

by Sam Crescent

  EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2017 Sam Crescent and Stacey Espino

  ISBN: 978-1-77339-445-9

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Karyn White

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  HARD TO GET

  Killer of Kings, 4

  Sam Crescent and Stacey Espino

  Copyright © 2017

  Chapter One

  Riley carried the small bag of garbage to the curb and tossed it in the metal can. Just like clockwork, her neighbor, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Mysterious, did the same. She waved to him, and, as usual, he ignored her and walked back along the path to his house.

  What an asshole, she thought. A fucking sexy asshole, but still.

  She’d bought the tiny bungalow almost a year and a half ago, thanks to a government subsidy program and a shitload of bank loans. Her other neighbors seemed friendly enough—it was the suburbs after all. It was just him. She knew absolutely nothing about her next-door neighbor, not even a name. None of her attempts at making contact had any success, but at least it wasn’t just her. The man was reclusive, choosing to keep to himself, avoiding just about everyone.

  Riley had conjured up all kinds of exciting scenarios in her head. A few months ago, she’d convinced herself he was running an illegal drug lab. She’d crept along the bushes after he left one day and peeked in a crack of the curtains through the front window. It was disappointing to find a very normal looking living room, one she’d expect to see on the cover of a boring home and garden magazine. So, she was back to square one, wondering who the mysterious man really was.

  She returned to the house to collect her purse and car keys, and then made the drive to work. It was only fifteen minutes away in a small outdoor plaza. Riley had put absolutely everything—blood, sweat, tears, and her last penny—into starting up her own bakery. It was a small half-unit, and she couldn’t afford any staff yet, but it was hers. She’d stop at nothing to make it a success.

  “Morning, Riley.”

  She waved to Janet, one of the insurance agents who worked a couple doors down. Riley knew most of the people in the plaza, from owners to staff, but she wouldn’t call any of them close friends. She preferred her privacy, and she’d been fiercely independent since she could remember. It was too much risk to invest in people who would inevitably let her down, not unlike her own mother and just about every guy she’d ever dated. Her best bet was to focus on herself, her bakery, and the fact she didn’t need another person to make her feel whole.

  After she unlocked the glass door and flipped the closed sign to open, she turned on the lights and made her way behind the counter. Today, she had a wedding cake to prepare, two birthday cakes, and she had to start her usual offerings of bread, buns, and cookies. She loved baking and creating something from simple ingredients. It was her personal escape, her therapy. If she was upset, she could lose herself in the process; if she was angry, she could beat the dough. Mostly, baking made her happy, giving her purpose in an otherwise fucked up life.

  “Hey,” said Janet, slipping in the front door.

  “What’s up?”

  “Did you hear they rented out the corner unit?”

  The largest unit in the plaza had been vacant for over six months. Since it was supposed to be the anchor store for their plaza, everyone was anxious for it to get a tenant. “Really? By who?”

  She rolled her eyes. “A bar. Can you believe it?”

  Riley shrugged. “A lot of plazas have bars.”

  “Yeah, but they’re busy after hours, when we’re both closed. I can’t see how it’ll be a benefit.”

  “Nothing we can do about it.” She washed her hands and then began reaching for her mixing bowls on the higher shelves. “I’m used to relying on myself, anyway.”

  She’d never gotten any breaks in her life, so she wasn’t going to count on any now. Yes, she prayed for business to pick up, but she wasn’t going to hold her breath.

  “I can see that. I can’t believe you run this place all by yourself.” Janet absently flipped through the cake book on the counter.

  “Well, I’m not exactly busy enough to hire help. Even if I was, I couldn’t afford it.”

  Janet looked at her watch. “I better go. I have a client coming in ten minutes.”

  Once Riley was alone, she lost herself in her work, the scent of flour and cinnamon calming her nerves. As much as she chose not to dwell on it, the bottom line was always in the back of her mind. If her store went out of business, she would lose everything, including her house. She’d be able to get another job, but that wouldn’t change the fact she owed the bank a small fortune.

  She was used to surviving, but it wasn’t easy with one fickle income. All her neighbors were married, many with children—except her next-door neighbor. She’d never seen a woman come or go, no visitors either. Now that her thoughts drifted to her mystery man, her anxiety eased and her body heated up. How could he have such an effect on her, especially when they hadn’t shared two words?

  Her childhood obsession with Nancy Drew books fueled her curiosity. He was a mystery she wanted to unravel. Was he an accountant? A secret agent? The guy was tall and always wore layers of black, even in the heat. Maybe a bodyguard?

  She chuckled to herself as she put the first dough ball into a greased pan. Reading made life tolerable and her fictional love life more exciting. If only the heroes in her romance novels were real. Even if they were, they always went for the picture-perfect damsels in distress, and Riley had never been a beauty pageant contender—and she didn’t need to be saved.

  The door bells chimed as two women came into her shop mid conversation. She recognized them from her neighborhood.

  “Oh, it’s you … sorry, I don’t remember your name,” said the blonde.

  “Riley.”

  “Right, you live near the end of the block. I didn’t know you worked here. I’m Amanda, and Karen lives across the road from me.”

  Riley smiled, brushing her hands over her apron to remove the excess flour. “It’s nice to meet you both. Can I help you with anything?”

  Amanda looked at her friend before facing Riley again. “I’m having a block party this weekend for my tenth anniversary. I need a large cake, a hundred rolls, and some fancy treats,” she said. “You did get an invitation, didn’t you?”

  She shook her head. It wasn’t a surprise. Riley didn’t exactly fit into the social circles of their urban-chic suburb. At twenty-eight she was younger than most in the neighborhood. Her naturally black hair had a few streaks of blue that always seemed to turn heads. She liked to be unique, embracing her creative side, and not caring what anyone else thought.

  “It must have gotten lost in the mail.” Amanda tittered. Did she realize how transparent she was? Riley had always been a good judge of character, and these women were too shallow for her liking. “Karen, do you have any more invitations?”

  Karen rooted around in her purse and then handed her a small white and gold envelope.

  “Thank you,” Riley said, pocketing the invitation. She pulled out her notepad. “Let me get your order down before I forget.”

  By the time she closed up f
or the evening, she was beat. Amanda expected a lot with only two days’ notice. Normally, Riley would refuse such a tight turnaround, but she wasn’t about to refuse a big order like that.

  She drove home, listening to her favorite radio station with the windows open. Riley loved the longer days of summer. As she turned onto her street, she noticed her neighbor pulling out of his driveway. The craziest thought popped in her head. She tried to push it away, convincing herself only crazy stalkers followed people. But this was her chance to feed her curiosity. She’d only follow for a little while, no harm done.

  Riley bit her lip as she passed her house, following a good distance behind her neighbor’s black SUV. When they got on the freeway, heading towards the city, she began to curse herself for being so stupid. Every time she decided to get off at the next exit, she argued with her conscience that she’d come this far and had to follow it through. The guy drove like a fucking maniac, weaving in and out of traffic, well above the posted speed limit. When he finally pulled off at an exit, she was relieved that they hadn’t traveled too far.

  She stayed a safe distance behind. If he noticed her following, she’d have to face him every day of her life. It would be a disaster. He stopped at some sort of sports complex or community center, parking around back. She did the same a few minutes later. It was a sketchy neighborhood, with graffiti on just about every wall or dumpster. Riley swallowed hard as she exited her car. She could smell weed coming from a group of men behind the building, so she scurried down the path to the front as fast as she could without attracting attention.

  Riley entered the large foyer of a bustling open gym, a boxing ring in the distance, and a lot of guys working out. The mix of pounding bass, metal clanging, and shouting left her in a daze as she tried to spot the mystery man through the glass wall.

  “Can I help you?”

  She turned around after hearing the deep voice, coming face to face with a severe scowl. The pissed-off man wore just shorts, boxing tape on his hands. Now that she took notice, there were nearly a dozen sketchy guys covered in ink loitering around the entrance. Riley was not prepared for this. A couple more men approached her, and she froze. She had no reason to be there, and suddenly wished she had just pulled into her driveway like she did every day after work.

  Damn you, Nancy Drew!

  “You don’t belong here,” said the man.

  “I was just looking for someone.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest as the other men surrounded her. “What’s his name?”

  She couldn’t answer. Not only did she not know her neighbor’s name, but she’d suddenly lost her ability to speak.

  “Maybe she came looking for a good time,” said another man from behind her.

  “I don’t mind some extra cushion for the pushin’.”

  Riley remembered the knife she always carried in her purse. She pulled back the zipper and began to casually root through all her junk. The asshole in front of her snatched her bag and tossed it to his friend.

  “Hey!” she shouted.

  She was too caged in to run or try to get her purse back. Her adrenaline spike made her dizzy. Why did her neighbor come here, to one of the worst areas of the city? It was riddled with gangs. There were stabbings and shootings reported every night on the evening news.

  All of a sudden, the whole group of men backed away from her as if she was on fire. Their looks of malice were replaced with submissiveness. It didn’t make sense.

  “Why are you following me?”

  Riley whirled around, nearly toppling over when she saw her next-door neighbor standing at the entrance. He was even taller up close, well over six feet, his shoulders massive. His dark eyes held no hint of emotion, just the same blank slate she’d seen time and time again.

  “I w-wasn’t,” she stuttered. Her fear morphed into a heady embarrassment. She looked like Ms. Desperado or maybe he thought she was a psychopath.

  He had a black gym bag slung over one shoulder. When he jutted his chin, the man who’d taken her bag rushed to hand it back to her. She held it against her chest like a life preserver.

  “This is a bad neighborhood,” he said. “Not a place for little girls.” He pointed a finger to the gym, and all the men who’d harassed her fought to get through the double glass doors, leaving them alone.

  Why did they listen to him? Why were they afraid?

  Up close, she guessed he was in his early forties, but fuck he looked good. The rush of adrenaline, plus being so close to the object of her obsession, made her pussy pulse with need.

  “I was just leaving,” she said.

  “Be smart. Keep to the suburbs.”

  She walked around him when he wouldn’t budge, heading to the main door. The moment her hand touched the handle, relief cascaded through her. She wanted to be anywhere else than here. Her worst-case scenario had come to fruition. She’d have to awkwardly face mystery man every day of her life.

  ****

  Shadow knew his neighbor had been tailing him from the second he left his house. In fact, he knew everything about the curvy little number. Killer of Kings didn’t hire fucking amateurs. He knew the asshole three blocks down smoked a cigarette on his front porch every night after sunset, the woman across the street was having an affair on her husband, and Riley Church had been on the streets since she was twelve years old.

  What he didn’t understand was why she wanted to follow him. He’d worked hard to create a veneer that masked his lifestyle, every detail to keep nosy neighbors at bay. No matter how hard he tried, it seemed a normal life wasn’t in the cards for him.

  When he’d made his appearance at the gym after watching from a distance, he didn’t like the fear he saw in Riley’s eyes. Shadow had wanted to teach her a lesson for her own damn good, choosing not to intervene right away. When he heard them taunting her, he wasn’t expecting the rush of possessiveness that heated his blood. It took all his resolve not to pull out his Glock and start taking out the pricks one by one. But they were just mixed up young men, and they respected Shadow. Or maybe it was just fear.

  He didn’t have time to babysit a girl determined to get herself killed. And he sure as hell didn’t need her digging around his private life. He’d lived in his house on the same street for almost ten years without issue. He refused to move. Boss had mentioned on numerous occasions that the best place for a hitman was a secure condo downtown or a stand-alone off the grid. Shadow knew he was playing house, trying to create the life he’d craved since childhood. It was all a fucking illusion, but it was a part of his humanity he refused to give up.

  So his brave little neighbor needed to learn her place. The rest of the neighborhood kept their distance, and she needed to do the same. He had her on security camera at least a dozen times trying to snoop in his windows or peek over the backyard fence. Shadow hadn’t thought much of her meddling until today. He hoped this scare had put some sense into her.

  After finishing up his usual Thursday session at the gym, he headed home. He’d pushed himself harder than ever, and he knew Riley was to blame. He couldn’t get her off his fucking mind. She only came up to his chest, and her curves were even thicker up close and personal. He ground his teeth together, trying not to think about digging his fingers into her rounded hips as he fucked her from behind. She was way too young for him, and he wasn’t in the market for a woman anyway. His solitary life suited him.

  It was nearly eleven, only the streetlights and faint glow of the moon illuminating his street. He pushed his entry fob and the garage door opened as he approached his house. His cellphone vibrated moments after entering the garage and cutting the engine.

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ve left you alone for a while, but I have a job for you,” said Boss.

  It had been well over a month since Shadow had heard from Killer of Kings. The clean-up after they took down part of the Dead Angels MC was a fucking headache. He’d appreciated the time off, but he was ready to get back to work. His trigger f
inger was itching, and he needed an outlet stronger than the gym for the darkness growing inside him.

  “You want to text me the details?”

  “This job will require a bit of recon. I want to be sure we’re getting the right man. He’s used body doubles in the past. Can you handle that?” asked Boss.

  In all the years Shadow had worked for Killer of Kings, he’d fucked up one time, giving Boss some bad intel. It wasn’t like him, and sure as hell wouldn’t let it happen again. Boss would probably hold that mistake over his head for years.

  “Yeah, I can handle that.”

  “Good. Then I’ll text you the details,” said Boss before hanging up.

  As much as he would love to direct his anger at Boss, he couldn’t. Shadow had been a foster care runaway since before he could remember. He’d been a skinny, broken teen living on the streets, fighting to survive, when his guardian angel found him at seventeen. The older man had taken him in, showed him the first kindness he’d ever known, and taught him how to fight. He owed Mr. Karpenko everything.

  After his tours of duty, his mentor had introduced him to Boss, and the world of Killer of Kings was opened up to him. Everyone working for Boss had to be fearless, ready to go to hell and back for a contract. Shadow wasn’t afraid to live and die by the sword. His fear of death ran deeper, starting with his earliest blurred memories of his mother dying slowly from lung cancer. Mr. Karpenko had been one of Boss’s many informants, and he respected the owner of Killer of Kings—that fact spoke volumes.

  Shadow pushed his thoughts away and got out of his car. Just before he hit the panel inside the garage to close the door, he saw a shadow watching him. He immediately reached behind him, getting a good grip on his gun, keeping his hand at the ready.

  “Who’s there?”

  “Sorry, it’s your neighbor. I wanted to apologize for earlier.”