Charming Asshole (Killer of Kings 3)

“And how the fuck would you know that?” asked Killian.

“Someone had to look out for her all these long, lonely years.”

This wise-ass needed the shit beat out of him. “Well, I’m back, and I’m not going anywhere.” He raised his hand in the air to get the waitress’s attention. Another minute with this asshole and he?

??d put a bullet between his eyes. “We’re about to order, so if you don’t mind…”

The officer stood up, adjusted his hat and palmed his service revolver as some kind of pitiful threat. Killian had a .357 Magnum in the back of his pants and an arsenal in his trunk. Shadow was always well strapped, and Killian knew that bastard would have his back.

“Good to meet you. I’ll be seeing you around.” The cop sauntered out of the diner, looking back a few times as he disappeared up the street.

“Are you insane?” asked Shadow. “We’re supposed to be on the down low. When shit starts going down again, that cop will have you in mind for the charges.”

Killian scoffed. “I’m untraceable, same as you. Besides, I don’t get caught, and I sure as hell ain’t worried about that hick cop.” Every hitman to sign up with Killer of Kings was wiped clean and had their fingerprints removed. Killian wasn’t worried about being called out for a crime. He was busy planning how he’d fuck him up for playing games with his woman. He needed to show him, police officer or not, that she was his property and Killian didn’t share.

They finished up their breakfast in silence. Killian’s head was elsewhere. The fact the person who’d put out the hit was still out there didn’t sit well with him. He needed to talk with Manic and find out if he’d had any luck rooting out the problem. They drove out to the mansion on the outskirts of town, walking up to the front door this time. Before they even pushed the damn doorbell, they were flanked by four of Manic’s men.

“Why the fuck are you ready for trouble this early in the morning?” asked Killian.

“You showed up, didn’t you?” asked the one with the short beard and facial tattoo.

Killian put his palm over his heart. “Do I look like fucking trouble? I’m just here to see a friend.”

The front door opened, and Manic stood in the entryway wearing just a pair of grey joggers. “It’s okay, Rebel. I was expecting them.”

The men gave them the once over and then left them alone with their prez. He invited them inside, and Killian reluctantly entered. This wasn’t a social call, as he just wanted information.

“I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting you to show up here,” said Manic. He walked over to a black leather bar with granite top and poured himself a hit of hard liquor, knocking it back.

“It’s not even noon,” said Killian.

“Considering I haven’t been to bed yet, this is the only thing keeping my head on straight,” he said. “You get the job done?”

“Look, asshole, you’re not my boss, and I’m not being paid to work for you. These hits are coming from the goodness of my heart.”

“Relax, big boy,” said Manic, running a hand through his hair. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a week.

Killian walked around the room while Shadow stayed rooted in place by the door, a hand inside his jacket at the ready. “Did you have any luck finding out which member of your club called for the hit?”

“Right to business, eh?” Manic sat on one of the stools. “The call came from here. From inside my house. Your Boss traced the number and reamed me out a few hours ago. He knows more than me.”

“We’ll have to go through all your members. We have ways of getting men to talk,” said Killian. “Those old bastards are probably still sleeping off their hangovers, so it’s a good time to make it happen.”

“There’s more,” said Manic. “A few more teens were taken yesterday. Their parents reported them missing. Young blonde girls, same description as the last two that were kidnapped.”

“You think it’s the same members of your club?”

Manic poured another glass. “Just do what you’re good at and end those assholes. All of them. Find the girls and you’ll probably find your man.”

Shadow opened the front door, so Killian didn’t stay and argue. They drove out to one of the bigger compounds owned by the club and cut the engine.

“This’ll be fun,” said Shadow.

“Two of us against an army isn’t my kind of fun. Not anymore anyway. I need to come out of this shit alive.”

“That’s always the idea.” Shadow double checked all his clips and then got out of the car. The air was already warming up, the sound of birds creating a deceptively tranquil setting. Things were about to get ugly.

As they approached the one-story structure, a gunshot rang off inside, then another, forcing both of them to draw their weapons. They passed the rows of Harleys lined up and kept their backs to the side wall of the brick building.