Pennies (Dollar #1)

by Pepper Winters

I climbed out.

  The front door was locked.

  I used my skills as a burglar to gain entry within seconds.

  The instant I entered, the alarm shredded my eardrums with a shrill alert.

  I ignored it, stalking forward through despicable corridors.

  The white house mocked me as I erupted from foyer to lounge.

  And then suddenly, I no longer saw white.

  But red.

  Lots and lots of red.

  I didn’t pause to think. I didn’t second-guess. I let the instincts I’d spent years trying to dull rage into being; muscle memory took over.

  Along with my sordid past, I’d done things that’d evolved me from thief to killer, from killer to assassin, from assassin to heartless stealer of souls. Fighting had always been more than just a hobby. It’d been in my past for generations. And because of my unique personality flaws, I’d become a master at it.

  My hand formed a blade, my fingers tight and long, locked together like a machete. I brought the weapon in a swinging arc right onto the juggler of the man sitting on top of Pimlico.

  He toppled sideways, unconscious from the single blow.

  Pimlico didn’t move as blood poured down her front, drenching her nakedness. A pair of large scissors fell from the unconscious man’s hand, clattering to the floor.

  “What the fuck!?” Alrik shot to his feet, leaving his girl to bleed all over the carpet. Moving away, he gave me the opportunity to get closer to her.

  The man who’d hacked down the bedroom door with a baseball bat lunged at me, swinging the same knife I’d taken from the garage. “You freak! You’re dead meat.”

  Normally, I would have fun with such an idiot. I would parry and feint, slowly wearing the assailant down until he begged for the fight to end.

  But Pim needed me.

  It took one tiny thought.

  One second, the man stabbed air, doing his best to gut me. The next, the knife was twisted from his hand into mine and the hilt buried in his stomach.

  He screamed as I slashed his insides before yanking out the knife and impaling it in his heart.

  His gaze lost focus the moment I tore through the muscle keeping him alive. However, it didn’t stop his body pumping blood and unspooling intestines as he collapsed onto the carpet.

  Pimlico scrambled back, her eyes as large as twin moons.

  The man was dead. He was no longer worth my time.

  Her gaze met mine, wild and agonised. Blood rivered from her mouth.

  What had they done to her? What fucking monster did such a thing?

  You’ve done worse.

  Yes, I had. I wouldn’t deny it.

  But never to a woman.

  Never to an innocent woman.

  Dropping to my haunches, I pulled her into a sitting position, cradling her against my chest.

  I didn’t care about the blood.

  All I cared about was making sure she’d survive longer than a few minutes so I could do what I should’ve done at the beginning when this asshole contacted me.

  Kill him.

  Screw the contract.

  Screw the fucking money.

  He’s dead.

  Alrik gaped like a koi carp at his dead friend with his guts coiled on the floor. His other friend remained unconscious beside him. “You bastard!” Shaking his head in denial, he back-stepped into the kitchen.

  I let him go.

  Most likely he had another gun stashed somewhere. He thought he had power over me with such a useless weapon.

  Idiotic asshole.

  Wielding a pistol wouldn’t save him from me. Bullets didn’t stand a chance with the methods of killing I'd been taught.

  Discounting him, I pried open Pimlico’s mouth.

  Blood made everything slippery and slick.

  She winced, tears mixing with her bloody mouth as I forced her to show me what they’d done.

  From previous experience, I knew what bled so copiously.

  The tongue.

  And because I wasn't stupid, I understood why they’d do such a thing. She refused to talk. I’d made suspicions bellow that she spoke to me instead of him.

  Why hadn’t she talked to me?

  Was this the reason? Because she knew I would leave and did her best to avoid the upcoming brutality?

  This was my fault.

  I’d done this.

  But at least, I’d come back to fucking fix it.

  Pimlico struggled in my arms as I traced the damage to her tongue. I expected to find a severed piece of meat, but I hadn’t been too late.

  A huge slice had cut her a third of the way through the muscle.

  It would hurt. It would continue bleeding. But she wouldn’t lose the power of speech. And she wouldn’t die…hopefully.

  “You’ll be okay.” Picking her up, I laid her on the white couch, taking supreme satisfaction as dark crimson rained over the pristine surfaces. “Stay there. I have to finish a few things.”

  Alrik had vanished, but banging came from the pantry as he grabbed whatever he could to make him safe.

  I let him. I didn’t chase him to start the war before he was armed.

  I wasn’t that type of person.

  He wanted a fight.

  I'd fight.

  However, the asshole who’d cut Pimlico’s tongue didn’t deserve such respect.

  Pim’s eyes locked onto mine as I strode toward the unconscious man and grabbed the scissors from beside him. My thumb smeared the still warm blood from the girl I couldn’t stop thinking about and fisted the bronze handles.

  Pim gasped, holding her mouth, doing her best to contain morbid ruby streams.

  I shook my head. “Don’t swallow. Just let it flow. I’ve got you. Just a few more minutes, then we’ll leave.”

  Leave to go where?

  My yacht?

  A hospital?

  I’d decide when it was time. For now, I had other things on my mind.

  She didn’t relax. How could she with such an injury? But her eyes dropped from mine to the shears in my fist.

  She didn’t speak, but I heard her question through the arch of her eyebrow and shimmering hate in her gaze.

  What are you going to do?

  I lowered my jaw, watching her beneath my brow. “I’m going to kill him.”

  That was the only warning I gave her. Dropping to my knee, I jammed the heavy blades through the throat of the man who’d hurt the woman I’d steal.

  The shears were sharp.

  His neck was supple.

  The two met and did what supple and sharp did.

  His throat sliced open, revealing the innards of gristle and esophagus before blood welled and joined the mess of Pimlico’s in an avalanche of red.

  A gunshot exploded above my head, whistling past and embedding in the large oval window behind me.

  The glass shattered, raining outward, letting sea breezes enter the otherwise calm space.

  “Get the fuck out of my house and I won’t kill you.” Alrik shuffled from the kitchen, both hands on his pistol, his fingers shaking on the trigger.

  He still thought I’d deliver what he’d paid for.

  Even after this.

  I laughed. “If you were half the man you think you are, you would’ve shot me.”

  He scowled. “I’m a better man because I didn’t.”

  “No, you’re just a greedy bastard who still thinks our deal will go through.”

  He blanched. “I paid. You agreed. Of course, it will go through. I need that fucking yacht!”

  “Need and deserve are two entirely different things.” Moving around the couch, I trailed my fingers briefly over Pimlico’s blood-soaked cheek. “Our deal was void the moment you mutilated a young girl.”

  “She’s mine to do with as—”

  “As you please.” Raising my hand, I painted her red, red life-force on my cheekbone, dousing myself in the pain of the person I was protecting—just like those of my lineage. We’d fought for empre
sses and queens. We’d given our lives in the service of others and avenged those who’d wronged us.

  This was no different.

  The many lessons I’d indulged in came back, flowing like magical memories through my veins. I missed my sword, but my hands would do in this case.

  “You went too far this time, Alrik.”

  “You have no authority to tell me what I can and cannot do.”

  “Yes.” I moved closer to him. “I do.”

  His arms trembled. “Think again.”

  The flinch of his muscles gave me all the warning I needed. He pulled the trigger and another bullet did its best to break the fabric of air and speed.

  I ducked effortlessly then charged forward, ploughing into him with my shoulder, crunching him against the kitchen bench.

  All the oxygen in his lungs exploded. The solid thud of his spine hitting marble had a good probability of leaving him disabled.

  He dropped to his knees, only to scramble breathlessly back to his feet.

  Didn’t disable him, after all.

  Oh well, no loss.

  My brain turned off as I reached forward and plucked the nuisance gun from his grip. I tossed it onto the couch beside Pimlico.

  Immediately, she crawled for it, holding her mouth with one hand and doing her best to support the heavy weight of the black pistol with the other.

  I wanted to tell her I’d protect her, help her, but my intentions weren’t that of a kind man. I’d come to steal not free.

  She didn’t need to know that. Not until I had her exactly where I wanted her. Not until she was healed.

  Alrik swung at my face now he’d been stripped of his weapon.

  His fist connected only because I let it.

  Pain was used as power in my training, giving animalistic instincts ammunition when bodily harm threatened.

  I could kill him fast or slow.

  If I had my way, it would be slow.

  But Pimlico wouldn’t last for the hours I’d like to torture. I didn’t have the time to starve him for years with mental and physical abuse. He was getting off fucking easy.

  For now, for her sake, it had to be quick.

  My hand soared forward; my fingers jammed into his larynx.

  He choked.

  While he buckled over, doing his best to suck in a breath, I grabbed his shoulders and crunched his face onto my knee.

  With killing hands, I seized his chin, ready to snap his spine.

  I was disappointed how fast three lives had been snuffed out. This cold dispatching did not satisfy me.

  But this wasn’t about me.

  It’s about her.

  A feral sound warbled behind me.

  I froze, looking over my shoulder.

  Pimlico draped over the back of the couch, blood everywhere, both hands holding the gun. She shook her head—the most response I’d ever earned—as her eyes dropped to Alrik scrambling in my hold.

  “You want to do it?”

  She nodded.

  Her shaking was too much. She wouldn’t be able to aim.

  But I wouldn’t deny the only thing she’d ever asked of me.

  “Fine.” Moving around Alrik’s body, I hoisted him up using his jaw and nape, threatening to break his neck. “Stand, you worthless sack of shit.”

  His feet slipped on the tiles, but he did his best to obey. “You don’t have to do this. You want more money? Have it all. You want her, take her. I don’t fucking care.”

  “It isn’t about that anymore.” I smiled. “It’s about karma and paying for what you’ve done. If it were up to me, you’d suffer for decades—just like you made Pim and countless other girls suffer. But we don’t have that luxury, so consider yourself fucking lucky.”

  Pimlico never took her eyes off him, her finger feathering the trigger. She gagged as more blood flowed, forcing her to vomit red over the back of the couch. Wiping tears away, the gun wobbled as she tensed to shoot.

  “Wait,” I ordered.

  Dragging Alrik toward her, I nodded as I kicked his leg to make him kneel and pressed his sweaty head against the muzzle of the gun. “Now, you can kill him.”

  She sucked in a gasp, scarlet rivulets staining her naked breasts. The look she gave me—so full of thanks and relief and vicious, vicious victory—clutched my gut. She was insidious in her hate; after two years of torture she’d won.

  My cock hardened, recognising the conqueror inside her. That was why I couldn’t forget her. Why I had to steal her.

  She was unique.

  My equal.

  Even though I’d never admit such things.

  “Do it, Pimlico. Slaughter him.” My voice ruffed with impatience and greed. “Finish it.”

  Alrik locked his hands in prayer. “Wait! Pim…sweet little Pim. Don’t do this. I love you!”

  She spat another wad of blood, splattering it all over his face. Her loathing told him exactly what she thought of his so-called love.

  Alrik squirmed, his temper once again getting him into trouble. “Why, you little bitch! I’ll whip you so fucking—”

  My fists clenched to punch the bastard. But hot rage settled over Pim, giving me a split-second warning to get out of the damn way.

  Dropping Alrik, I sidestepped to avoid an incorrect aim or ricochet. I jolted as the gun exploded.

  The scent of sulphur hit my nose as the boom of a bullet tore around the white lounge.

  For a second, Alrik stayed swaying where I’d placed him.

  Then, he fell.

  Dazed and confused, he stumbled as his hands came up to hold a newly formed hole in his belly.

  Pim stared. Shock merged with disbelief that she’d finally repaid him with pain.

  He screamed, “Fuck, you shot me! You sho—shot me.”

  She did but it’s not enough.

  It wasn’t a mortal wound.

  I had no intention of leaving here with any chance of him being found by paramedics.

  Taking a step forward, my fingers ached to finish it.

  But once again, Pim surprised me.

  She smiled with a gruesome red grin, pulling the trigger for a second time.

  Boom!

  The shot went into his cheekbone.

  Two holes but still alive.

  She’d missed his brain and heart.

  Alrik screamed harder, no longer stringing concise words together but howling for his life.

  Sobs wracked her body as adrenaline quickly switched to stupefaction.

  She’d pass out any second—I was shocked she hadn’t dropped already—but I didn’t want her to black out without seeing him dead.

  She needed to see that.

  I refused to let him haunt her.

  Moving around the couch, I kneeled beside her and took her trembling hands in mine.

  “Here, I’ll help you.”

  Alrik garbled, “No! Do—don’t!” Blood spewed from his cheek as he did his best to hold both wounds.

  His pleas didn’t register as I guided Pim’s rapidly failing strength and pointed the gun directly at his forehead. “Go ahead, silent mouse.”

  Her body jerked at my nickname for her, but her finger latched onto the trigger for a third time.

  Bang!

  Thrice was the charm.

  There were no screams, no begs—nothing but throbbing silence and the steady drip, drip, drip of her blood raining on the couch.

  Alrik turned from rapist to corpse, doing the world a favour by no longer breathing.

  She didn’t gloat over her kill.

  She didn’t cry or question.

  And I didn’t let her wallow in what she’d done.

  I had more important things to worry about—not about police or witnesses or other trivial things. No, much more important than that.

  The woman I’d come to claim was dying.

  I couldn’t permit that until I’d taken what I needed.

  Almost as if on cue, Pim dropped the gun by Alrik’s cadaver, toppling spent and fading ov
er the settee.

  “Shit.” I caught her, bundling her into my arms and climbing from the furniture.

  Her skin no longer held pigment, looking blue and bloodless as I strode from the room. I gave no heed to the three men turning the lounge into a lake of gore. I only focused on the tiny but formidable woman in my embrace.

  “Stay with me, Pim. I’ve got you.”

  She didn’t respond as I marched through her prison and carried her over the threshold, stealing her from the white mansion into freedom.

  IT HURT.

  So much.

  It was all I could think about. The only thing I could focus on.

  I washed in and out of blackness.

  My body wanted to sink and sink…to shut out the pain. But my willpower had waited too damn long for this.

  He’s dead.

  I killed him!

  I couldn’t sleep now.

  I’m free!

  But, oh my God, the agony.

  Mr. Prest’s arms around me couldn’t compete with the excruciating stinging of my tongue. Fresh air after two years of being locked away went unnoticed. The world and everyone in it were nothing as I lived in a torturous hell of warm oozing blood choking me and more pain than I thought possible.

  I couldn’t understand what was going on.

  I was outside!

  Away from the white mansion for the first time since Master A outbid my one million to buy myself.

  The crunch of pebbles beneath Mr. Prest’s shoes were muffled. The view of Master A’s house perched high on the cliff with ultimate sea views was hazy. I wanted to kiss the concrete of the driveway and dance in the soil where bright green bushes slept.

  The breeze. The salt. The screech of seabirds. So much chaos after so much silence.

  And I was too swaddled in agony to enjoy it.

  He’s dead.

  Darryl, too.

  Tony.

  All dead.

  Mr. Prest did what I’d dreamed of for years.

  Even that knowledge was muted and not quite real. I needed my tongue to stop drowning me in blood, so I could focus on this new reality.

  I just witnessed a murder. A gruesome, awful murder.

  I just committed murder. A cold-blooded revengeful kill.

  And I rejoiced!

  I didn’t suffer sadness for the deaths they endured. It was their karma. If anything, they didn’t endure enough. However, I couldn’t figure out what came next. Would Mr. Prest slay me, too? Why had he returned? What plans did he have for me to pay him back for his rescue?