Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72543 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72543 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
He’ll be there. I would be.
Or whatever the fuck he said.
It’s a secluded spot that might as well be a dark alley.
Never in my decades of knowing Caleb have I considered him my future hitman, but I do now. I bring the room into full view with only one person present. Caleb sits at a long wooden table, a bottle of whiskey and two glasses in front of him, as if he plans to give me a reason to drink.
Two long tables stand between us and him. I walk around them and join Caleb. He stands and faces me, ignoring Savage. “Who the fuck is he?”
“I be Savage,” Savage says. “I kill people.” He laughs. “Sounds like fun, right?”
Caleb’s gaze shifts to Savage and the two men stare each other down for so fucking long, I sit down and fill my glass. When the pair of them decide to join me, Savage downs the contents of Caleb’s glass and says, “Nice of you to provide treats.” He refills the glass. “Just so you know, if you kill Damion or Alana, I’m your Huckleberry. Should you do so, Damion offered to pay me a shit ton of money to kill you, but I declined. I love killing one of you. I’ll do it for free.”
I almost laugh at Savage, for no good reason. This isn’t funny. It’s not even close to funny but it’s just stupid ridiculous. Even by my standards, having grown up with my mother, It’s like something out of a movie not real life. Caleb’s gaze is steel locked on Savage’s face before it shifts sharply to me. “What is this?”
“We both know your ultimate loyalty lies with my father.”
He doesn’t so much as blink. “I’d tell you to give me a reason to be loyal to you, but you can’t win this, Damion. Therefore, I can’t win with you.” He taps the glass. “Drink it. You’re about to need it.”
“Say what you have to say,” I snap.
“All right. Let’s get right to it, no lube or booze. He’s got a bloody good plan. He’s fucking Alana’s mother for a reason. You can let your mind go wild and imagine where I’m going with this. I won’t fill in the blanks, but if anything he plans goes wrong I’m responsible. There’s a price on my head. It’s all paid for. It’s all done. There’s only one way to stop it.”
I bark out laughter. “Let me guess. Sell my stock to him.”
“Exactly,” he says, and he grabs the glass Savage has just filled and downs it. “Exactly.” His eyes meet Savages. “Unless Savage here wants to help me kill off all the contract killers in the world, of which there are more than you might think, I find myself in a quandary.” He sets the glass down and looks at me. “I either finish the job he’s put before me, or I could be the next one to die.”
“Kill or be killed,” Savage replies dryly. “I don’t believe for a minute you’re operating on fear or threats. Anyone of our caliber welcomes another one of us to come at them. I damn sure do. Why do you think I’m here right now?” My cellphone buzzes with a text and Savage says, “You’ll want to read that message, Damion” to me, obviously wearing an earbud or mic, and already in the know.
Curiosity that matches mine sparks in Caleb’s eyes and I remove my phone from my pocket and read the message from Blake: Caleb has a daughter. She’s two. He met her mother, Sara, while she worked for your father, and he shipped her off to an island in Hawaii where she changed her name. They don’t speak. Word is that she found out what he does for a living, really does, and wanted nothing to do with him. I’d say he’s too cold to care, but he keeps tabs on them. He paid to move her and change her name. Those actions say you will know what he wants no one to know. Show him this photo. It was taken today.
A photo of a pretty little brunette girl and a mother fill my screen.
Of course, there’s a moral question to what I’ve been offered for personal use, but I won’t kill his daughter and neither will Walker Security. He’ll know this. Just as I know he will kill Alana. I use the gift I’ve been given in the only way it works in this situation and set the phone in front of Caleb. “Does my father know about them?”
Caleb eyes the phone, heavy seconds ticking by, his expression unreadable but there is a pulse to his energy, a darkening of his mood. When his eyes meet mine, he says, “This changes nothing. He’s already set actions in motion.”
“There’s a way to stop this,” I say, and tap the photo, reminding him what’s at stake. “If you think I won’t tell him, you’re wrong. Alana is a game changer for me. Telling him pits you against him and links your survival, your daughter’s survival, and Alana’s survival together.”