Knocked Up by the Killer - Page 9

“I don’t want to be anywhere near that asshole,” I said.

“Then I don’t know what to tell you.” He leaned back and released my wrists. He slowly got to his feet and let out a sigh. I stayed on the floor, staring up at him, my body pulsing slowly.

“Where are you going?” I asked as he walked past me.

I got up to my knees and steadied myself on the wall. He walked into the bathroom, crouched down in front of the sink cabinet, and reached in toward the back. He pulled out a gun with a long round barrel at the end of it.

I stumbled back and fall onto my ass.

He smiled at me, unscrewed the barrel, dropped it into his right front pants pocket. He tucked the gun into his waistband.

“Someone else like me is going to come here,” he said. “Someone with fewer scruples and a lot less to lose.”

“What am I going to do?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I’d go to your father if I were you, but you seem pretty set against it.” He walked past me and into the kitchen.

I sat in the hallway trying to gather myself. I heard him rummaging around, and when he returned, he had his shirt and jacket on. He looked gorgeous and put together, and he smiled at me as he adjusted his cuffs.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“Home,” he said.

“What about me?”

“What about you?” He tilted his head.

“If you’re not going to kill me, what the hell am I going to do?” I felt myself panicking and knew I wasn’t being rational. I wanted him to stay and help me, but I knew that was just about the most insane response to all this as possible.

He was a hitman. He was a killer sent to murder me by a crime syndicate.

The man had no heart.

Only inky black tattoos on his gorgeous body.

Artifice instead of real flesh.

“You’ll figure it out,” he said and walked to my door.

“Wait.” I felt pathetic, I felt dizzy. “Please.”

“Good luck,” he said, opened the door, and closed it behind him.

I sat in the hallway and leaned my head against the wall behind me. I felt a sob escape my lips. I don’t know how long I stayed there, but I cried until I had nothing else left in me.

Then I dragged my ass into the bathroom and took a long, hot shower, and tried to figure out how I was going to keep myself alive.3TannerWell, that didn’t go great.

Wasn’t terrible. Could’ve been worse.

But it wasn’t great. I mean, I didn’t want to have to throw the girl around. I probably left bruises on her wrists and might’ve given her a minor concussion.

Couldn’t just let her call the cops or some shit, though.

At least I got breakfast out of it.

I drove the Lexus slow through early morning Philly traffic. It was a nice day, not too humid, sun peeking out from behind big fluffy white clouds. I had a big smile on my face and felt pretty damn good.

I got a nice breakfast, had some fantastic sex, and might’ve saved a pretty girl’s life today.

All in all, not bad for a merciless bastard such as myself.

I still wasn’t sure why I spared her. The money was pretty decent, twice my going rate since it was a last-minute request. It would be enough to coast on for at least a few month. I could find a few new girls, fuck their brains out, spoil them rotten, then go take another job and kill a few more stupid shits before starting the whole cycle over again.

Killing, fucking. I was a force of nature.

But I kept thinking about Elise as I parked my car out in front of my building and went inside. The doorman tipped his cap and I smiled back.

“Morning, Herb,” I said.

“Morning,” he said. “You see the Phillies last night?”

“Missed it. Had a date.”

“Oh, shit,” Herb said. He was an older black guy in his fifties, balding, graying, a little heavy. His maroon doorman’s suit didn’t quite fit like it used to. “Can’t say I’m surprised though.”

“You don’t have to suck up, Herb. You’ll get your bonus.”

He laughed and sat back down behind his desk as I hit the call button for the elevator.

“You keep parading those pretty girls through here and I won’t need a bonus.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” I grinned at him as the elevator arrived and he laughed again.

I stepped on, rode it up. I had a condo on the tenth floor overlooking South Philly. I unlocked my front door, threw my keys in a bowl, put my gun down on a side table, and walked into the living room. Sunlight spilled through the huge windows.

Hardwood floor, white walls, black and white photography. Modern and sleek furniture. A small balcony overlooked the city outside.

Tags: B.B. Hamel Erotic
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