Daddy's Adorable Assassin (Daddy's Little Deviants)

Just waiting for the right moment.

But I wasn’t just caught. This wasn’t a gig that had gone sour. What should have been a simple assignment had backfired because the man who’d raised me, who’d given me the instruments to wreak destruction over the years, had betrayed me. He’d sent me to a death sentence while stroking my hair and telling me he loved me.

Had there been signs I’d ignored?

His betrayal shouldn’t have hurt. In my profession, business partners and the people closest to me were the ones who hired me to kill. Still, it hurt, and breathing became difficult as I blinked back tears.

Why hadn’t he just killed me himself instead of trusting strangers to do it?Didn’t I deserve any mercy at all for becoming exactly what he’d trained me to be?

It was hard paying attention to the road when scene after scene of Daddy and me flicked through my mind. Daddy reading to me. Daddy teaching me how to hold my first gun. Daddy taking me hunting. Catching my first fish with Daddy.

Tears swam in my eyes by the time we came up to a building that looked like an abandoned factory. The car slowed down to a stop, and the guy in the back seat with me reached across me and opened the door.

“Get out. We’ll try not to make a mess of you, kid, but no promises. We’d like to have a little fun with you first. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a pretty thing like you.”

He nudged me in my back with the gun he’d taken from me, and I tumbled out into the night. If they got me into that building, I would have a hard time coming out alive. Even my little side realized now wasn’t the time to get cute.

I allowed the momentum of the shove in my back to send me flying to the ground, crying out as convincingly as I could. My hands scraped the ground, and my palms stung under the gravel.

“Fuck. Forgot how scrawny you are. It’s almost sinful to put a bullet through you, but a job’s a job.” The man chuckled as he grabbed me by the shoulder and yanked me to my feet. I stood with a hand full of gravel and dirt. It was all I had, but I couldn’t go down without fighting back.

The urge to confront Daddy and find out why he’d ratted me out was all the driving force I needed. Why now, after all these years? Why save my life, only to have someone else take it? He was too careful for this to have been a mistake.

I threw the gravel at the man’s face.

“What the fuck!”

He dropped the gun and slapped his hands to his eyes. It was even better than I’d expected, but I wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Instead of running off into the night and hoping not to get shot—like any normal human being would do—I dove for the gun.

“What the fuck’s going on?” Webb called from the car.

My heart pounded in my chest, but the adrenaline was just what I needed. I raised my arm and fired a single bullet straight through the head of Webb’s man. His body jerked, and he slumped back against the car, sliding down until he fell to the ground, his head hitting the concrete with a sickening thud. I’d never been more grateful than in that moment that Daddy always insisted on me making a clean headshot. A single bullet for every victim. If I didn’t, he would be disappointed and send me to the display box. With that incentive, my accuracy was damn near a hundred percent all the time.

“Jonesy, don’t tell me you shot the fucking boy, you impulsive motherfucker.” A car door slammed. “You idiot, how many times do I have to tell you fucking a corpse is less fun than when they’re alive?”

I followed the crunch of Webb’s feet. When he rounded the hood of the car, I fired the next shot. The bullet smashed into his mouth. The shock on his face was eviscerated by the next shot that pierced right between his eyes.

Fuck you, Webb. Lots of corpses in hell to fuck. I’ll see you there, you bastard, but not tonight.

A slow shake rattled my bones as everything sunk in. I was still alive. I leaned back against the car and squatted until my ass hit the ground. My ass, which still stung from being beaten by the man who’d then set me up.

For five years, I’d been killing, and I’d never come this close to being the one at the other end of a gun. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut. How could someone so close to me do this?

I’d underestimated him, thought I had him firmly in my grasp.

When had his affection turned to murderous intent? How long had he stroked me and whispered words of love to me while planning how he would end me?

I climbed to my feet, feeling more resolved and less shaky now that I was safe. What now? I’d depended on Daddy for everything. Where to go from here? The way might not have immediately been clear, but one thing was sure.

I had to kill the man who was the closest person to me in the world. After all, he’d first tried to kill me.