Part 1 (2/2)

I leaned forward, my a.s.s already growing numb from sitting on the cold stoop. ”h.e.l.lo?”

I didn't get any response-I wasn't really expecting one-but I couldn't s.h.i.+ft the certainty that someone was out there, watching me.

Narrowing my eyes, I began to rise from my position on the step ...

Sudden movement came from behind me, from the rear exit of the bar, making me jump. I twisted slightly to see who it was. I figured it was most likely Johnny coming to call me in early from my break. Perhaps the bar had suddenly filled up, but instead, the redneck I'd shouted at came stumbling through.

”If you're looking for the bathrooms,” I told him, ”they're back there.”

He gave me a grin, exposing bad teeth. He was probably twice my age, in his forties, at least. ”Nah, sweetheart. I came looking for you. Figured you could use some company.”

I rolled my eyes. ”f.u.c.k off, dude. I'm seriously not interested.”

His already lined forehead wrinkled in disbelief. ”Huh?”

”You heard me. Go back to the bar. You're interrupting my break.”

He scowled. ”Did anyone ever tell you that you ain't got no manners?”

Slowly, I got to my feet. ”I'm sorry, you must be confusing me with someone who gives a s.h.i.+t.”

He took another step toward me. ”I should teach you some good behavior, little lady. I think you need to be taken in hand.”

His threat simmered in the air between us, and I stared at him, every muscle in my body poised to react.

He took another step.

I moved quickly, reaching down the front of my scoop neck t-s.h.i.+rt and plucking the knife from the sheath which had been pressed against my solar plexus, the belt clip attached to the center portion of my bra. I brandished the wickedly sharp five-inch blade between us, my shoulders squared. I would have liked to have carried larger, but that was impossible without it being noticeable-I knew, because I'd already tried. A gun would have been even better, but I certainly wasn't going to get a license to carry, and the cops were on my back too much to allow me to purchase a weapon illegally. Besides, I had no contacts here-something that was done deliberately-so I had to make do.

His eyes flicked down to the knife. ”What the f.u.c.k, you crazy b.i.t.c.h!”

I leveled my cool gaze to his. ”Come another step closer and I'll stick this in your fat stomach and gut you like the pig you are.”

His face turned puce, his eyes bulging in outrage. ”I'm going to tell Johnny his new barmaid just threatened to stab me. I've been coming to this bar since before you could walk.”

”Perhaps that's a good reason not to hit on a woman who is young enough to be your kid. Now turn around and go back into that bar, and keep your f.u.c.king mouth shut. If you tell Johnny, there'll be no reason for me not to wait on some dark corner for you to come stumbling out of the bar, drunk and unable to defend yourself.”

He stared at me again, perhaps wondering if I was serious. Then he shook his head and turned around to head back into the bar, muttering 'crazy b.i.t.c.h' as he went.

I exhaled a sigh through my nose.

I didn't think he was going to tell my boss about what I'd done, or threatened to do. It wasn't as though I had any love for my job, but I needed things to stay as normal as possible-at least from the outside. I didn't need the money, as such. The housing was paid for, and I was paid a 'salary' for being here, and would be for the next few months, but I couldn't just sit around the house all day. I'd literally either drive myself crazy or I'd drink myself into an early grave. Plus, there was someone I was trying to avoid back at the new house we had to call home, and I didn't think she particularly wanted to see me either. Not that I blamed her.

Picking up my empty gla.s.s, I headed back inside to finish up the final hour of my s.h.i.+ft. From the way Johnny didn't fire me the moment he saw me, and how the guy who'd come after me sat sullenly at the end of the bar, avoiding eye contact with me, I hazarded a guess that he'd not spilled the beans about the knife which was now firmly repositioned in the sheath between my bra and my t.i.ts.

Looked like I'd get to finish my s.h.i.+ft after all.

Chapter Two.

X.

That overweight jerk in the leather cut just saved her life.

I wondered if she had any idea she should have been thanking him instead of threatening to stab him in the gut.

My muscles had seized from sitting in the same place for too long while I'd waited for her to appear, and as I'd risen from my crouch beside the industrial trashcans, my legs hadn't worked as quickly as they should and my foot had scuffed the ground. I'd silently cursed myself, and seconds later she'd called out, 'h.e.l.lo.' I'd lifted the muzzle of my silenced weapon, about to put a bullet in her pretty little head, when the man walked out. I'd been told to keep this clean-absolutely no witnesses and no trail of dead bodies. I'd needed to make it look as though she'd just vanished while on her break. I had ways of making sure a body never showed up again.

I'd been about to take the shot, but then he'd exited the bar behind her, and so I'd lowered my weapon. Time, for the moment, was on my side, and I wasn't going to make a stupid mistake just because I'd felt rushed.

It was only the appearance of the guy that had stopped me-at least, that was what I kept telling myself. I'd been about to fire the shot, but I had to admit the long, silky black hair she had pulled up into a ponytail, combined with the sleeve tattoo she had running down one slender arm, and the almond shaped dark eyes, may have caused me to pause. I'd seen photographs allowing me to identify her, but none of the photos had done justice to the woman I'd been watching sitting on the steps while she knocked back some kind of hard liquor. Then the guy had arrived, and I'd almost been happy about the interruption. I hadn't left, though. I'd remained, watching her.

When she'd pulled the knife and told him she'd gut him like a pig, I'd smiled, actually smiled ...

Well, my version of a smile. I wasn't a smiley type of guy.

”Uh-uh, X,” I told myself. ”Watch yourself, buddy.”

Something about this woman fascinated me.

It was a shame I'd have to put a bullet in her head.

When I was happy she'd gone back into the bar and wouldn't be coming out any time soon, I left the alleyway to go to my car. I'd parked the vehicle several blocks away, as was my habit, so it wouldn't be recognized and linked with anyone's disappearance or death.

Dressed all in black, I moved quickly and almost silently through the streets of the small town. This wasn't in my original plan, but I believed in being flexible. It was part of what made me good at my job, the ability to bend with whatever conditions landed unexpectedly in my path.

It was always disappointing when things didn't go quite to plan, but in this case it didn't matter that I hadn't been able to complete my job at the bar.

I knew where she lived.

Chapter Three.

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