Chapter Twenty Seven
“Comeon,youson of a bitch, just leave already. The waitress is not interested in your skanky drunk ass, and I am getting bored,” I murmured into my drink after glaring at the man sitting in a large wingback chair, snifter glass in hand.
Watching Philip Walker dressed in an offensively expensive tailor-made suit sip on his scotch and paw at unsuspecting servers was not how I expected my night to go.
I really didn’t need this shit right now. Why I thought this would be a good distraction, I had no idea. I wasn’t distracted. I was fucking bored, and restlessness had settled in my stomach, telling me I should have been at home helping Alex figure out what my old bastard of a father was up to and how to stop him.
Instead, it was three-thirty in the fucking morning, and it didn’t look like Mr. Three-drinks-and-I’m-shit-faced was leaving.
My phone pinged, and I snatched it off the mahogany bar, flicking the switch to silence it. Glancing at the home screen, Alex’s name appeared.
Alex: Are you okay?
Stevie: Stop asking. I’ve already told you. Go to bed.
My finger hovered over another notification in my messages that I couldn’t bring myself to read beyond the preview.
Jake: I can’t stop thinking about you...
My stomach plummeted with guilt and shame, knowing he was somehow connected to my father. I sighed, wishing I could order a shot of something strong to numb the crap-show of feelings swirling in my stomach. I had carried enough guilt to last a lifetime and I couldn’t cope with more piling on top, all because of DNA.
My leg bounced unconsciously as I took another mouthful of my virgin mojito. The mint and lime fusion tickled my taste buds as I played with a cube of ice with my tongue, trying to focus my mind back on the task of getting the club to kick the drunk guy out.
Thankfully, I didn’t need to think too hard, as a burly bouncer swaggered over to the table and pointed toward the exit.
Right, Stevie, game face baby.
I slid my phone into my back pocket, pushing Jake to the back of my mind, and glided off the barstool. I left twenty dollars for my tab and a generous tip, even though the mojito wasn’t that good.
Maybe I should confront my father and ask him what he’s doing, maybe I could beg him to leave Jake’s company alone. I could buy him off; he liked to spend most of the cash my mom paid him on booze or women, rather than the actual use of child support that it was meant to be for. So he must have a price. Everyone has a price.
Focus, Stevie. Now is not the time.
The sun had started to rise as I walked along the sidewalk behind drunky, keeping my distance. His phone rang, and it took him several attempts to answer. When he did, he yelled, “Wazzup” from the Budweiser commercial that hadn’t been on air since 1999 - or was it 2002? – down the speaker.
This was going to be too easy.
I increased my pace, shifting to a light jog, silently eating up the distance and loving how deathly quiet my navy pumps were as I got closer and closer…
“What the fuck?” Philip cried as he whipped around in time to catch my forearm with his jaw. Shit, he must have seen me in the reflection of a store window.
Sloppy mistake number one, Stevie.
I managed to regain my footing and connected my fist to his cheekbone, just below his eye. He bellowed a shout in agony, snapping his head back with a snarl on his face.
“Oh, you’ll regret that, you little bitch,” he sneered, lunging toward me. His foot hooked behind my ankle and his hands pushed my shoulders backwards, causing me to land with a heavy thud on the concrete. Urgh, he fights like a little boy pushing his playschool crush in the playground.
Sloppy mistake number two.
The air in my lungs was forced out in its entirety and a shot of pain burst down my back from landing on my tailbone. Philip came to my side, drawing one foot back and connecting it so hard against my ribs that I felt a crack. I let out a scream, barely managing to recover when his weight was on top of me, straddling my waist.
Okay, this wasn’t how schoolboys fought.
“Please, don’t —” I tried to say as the image of my dad stood in place of Philip. His evil blue eyes, the same shade as mine, glistened back at me as he wrapped his fingers around my neck.
“That’s right, beg me to stop, whore.” Dad’s grip tightened, stopping any air from getting into my lungs as black spots appeared in the periphery of my vision. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, and I could feel my fingers start to tingle.
The outline of my dad’s body pressing down on me flickered and Phillip reappeared, his hazel eyes blown, and his lips curled back to show his clenched off-white teeth. He was breathing hard and started to grind his pelvis down on mine, getting off on my pain and fear.
Come on, Stevie girl, move your ass. This is not how it ends.
Rage filled my veins as I remembered why I was here and who the bastard above me was.
Frantically, I scrambled my hands along my sides, searching for my gun, which was tucked away beneath my shirt. Darkness was closing in little by little with every squeeze of the asshole’s hands at the same time that my father’s hateful laughter started once again to fill my ears.
I tried to shake my head, willing any and all thoughts of the man away, telling myself over and over that the person with his dirty hands around my throat was not my dad and that I needed to hurry the fuck up and get my gun out of its holster.
My fingers fumbled with the butt of the gun several times before I got a hold, pulled it out and switched off the safety. Thank God I knew this gun like the back of my hand and could strip it and put it back together blindfolded. I made a mental note to thank Alex for that the next time he made me do that drill.
The shot went off, cutting straight through the side of Philip’s neck. His hands loosened from around my throat, and I panted desperately, sucking in as much air as my lungs could take as my vision started to clear.
Philip fell to the side in a heap, blood pooling from the wound. I lay beside him on the cold hard ground for several minutes, my hand on my heart, breathing heavily while the adrenaline pumped frantically through my body and caused my hands to shake.
Holy shit, that was close.
I pushed at Philip’s legs with the last of my strength, freeing myself from his weight. I looked down and found my white shirt spattered crimson with his blood and sneered at the sight. Alex would need to burn my clothes when I got home. Fan-fucking-tastic.
Reaching down, I tore the top of Philip’s shirt open, causing buttons to fly across the sidewalk. Then, I wiped the back of my arm across my forehead, smearing the mixture of sweat and blood along my face before rummaging through his pockets to remove his phone, wallet, and keys.
I needed to find the shell of the bullet before sprinting off into the darkness, away from the scene of the crime. The little sucker hadn’t gone far with the glint of silver shining against a store wall after rolling away. I plucked the casing by the edges from the ground between my thumb and forefinger, the small piece of metal still hot from my shot but cool enough that I could put it in my pocket.
I ran for miles, pushing my muscles until they ached. How could I have been so stupid as to let my subconscious fuck with me so badly? I could have died because I wasn’t focused. Philip could have strangled me, and I’d have gone thinking it was my father who had his large hands around my neck.
That wasn’t his MO; he never tried to suffocate me. He needed his little pet alive so he could continue to inflict pain. He’d never intentionally kill me, and I was a fucking idiot for letting my brain trick me into thinking it was him.
I wheezed and began to slow down as I reached Carlin Valley’s city limits, the streetlights becoming less frequent and leaving me in darkness. I walked along the dirt track at the side of the road and screamed into the morning sky just as the rain started to pour.
Never get emotionally attached to a target.It was basic assassin 101. And I never had any problem sticking to that rule.
But I was slowly and unequivocally getting attached to Jacob Weston. From the first time he kissed me, I was a goner, and no matter how hard I tried, his pull kept drawing me in.
And now, to find out my fucking father was behind this assignment, I had never been clearer in my objective.
He had just become my new target.
He had awoken the beast, and he was going to pay.
I just hoped when this was over, Jake would forgive me.