CHAPTER FOUR
“You want me to fly to Florida and kill a woman?” Gen asked.
“Yes, but not just any woman.” Lorenzo Lagari replied.
“Well fuck, I hope not. I mean I don’t take out women.”
“No, just grab her and bring her to me, Genaro. Then we’ll see.”
Gen didn’t like this. He wanted to refuse. However, this was Lagari’s cousin and the one who got him out of being taken down for murder a year ago. He owed the man and he knew this was payback. But a chick? Fuck, he didn’t like it. “So, I am supposed to grab her, subdue her, then somehow bring her here? You got a private plane? “
“I can arrange it. But if you used one of your best assets, it won’t be as hard as you’re making it out to be.”
Gen cocked his head at him. “Look, my gun is my best asset. And I’m not sure—”
The man started to laugh. “Yeah I’m talking about another gun. I know how you are with women. Hell, we all know. So, just use your charm and those looks of yours.”
Gen glared at him. “I’m not a fucking gigolo or a man whore.”
The men in the room all laughed.
Keep your cool, Gen. “Look, Lorenzo. This isn’t my gig. I do hits, not bit work, or kidnapping.”
The laughter in the room faded away.
Good. Motherfuckers thinking I’m gonna fuck my way through a job.
Lorenzo’s smile slipped from his lips. “Look, Genaro, you owe me. And this is the price.”
Fuck! Gen seethed inside but he kept his expression entirely blank.
“Then it won’t be a flight to Florida. It’s by train, we just found out.”
“So, you’re saying I gotta ride a damn train? Why?”
He shrugged. “We know she’s gonna get on this train, just not where she will get on.”
“So, I have to ride a fucking train across rural America?” This couldn’t get worse. Could it?
“Yep, ‘fraid so” Lorenzo stood up. “Here’s what she looks like.” He handed him a photo.
Gen stood very still as he gazed at the woman in the photo. Holy fuck.
“Genaro?”
It just got worse. This might just be the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen. Thick dark red tresses, not just average hair, but what was really tresses. Gleaming with highlights. Voluptuous curves. Huge green eyes, flawless skin. Shit! And he was supposed to seduce her then haul her back here to be taken out? This would be tantamount to the worst sin he’d ever committed, taking a beauty like this from the world.
“GENARO!”
His slowly raised his gaze to Lorenzo.
“You leave tomorrow. You get on at Long Beach.”
“Then I just stay on until she gets on?”
He nodded. “We got your ticket and the cash you’ll need.” He handed him an envelope.” Identity and all of it, so no worries.”
“Yeah, no worries. Right.” He nodded to Lorenzo goons that were always with him as was the way you did things here. You acknowledge the guards and they let you leave. The bastards had the fucking nerve to grin at him as he strode out the door.
Leaving the estate, he was simmering with rage .No worries. Fucker with his smirk and his goons and their fucking smug smiles. He wished he had the license to kill all of them. He needed to calm down. He hated being out of his element. That was it. Why couldn’t it be just a regular hit? Or to someone who’d earned it, like that wig collector freak? But nooo. It had to be… He gazed down at the photo again. It had to be this female…He let out a sigh. Man, he’d had plenty of women. In his world, they nearly threw themselves at him. But he never remembered that any of them ever took his breath and thoughts away like just the image of this one did.
Yeah, right. No worries.
He got into his Mustang and sped away, gravel flying in his wake. Usually, when he got into this car, all of it fell away. Like some guys felt that way about a bike or a truck. Hell, even a horse. He rolled his eyes. But he loved this fucking car. I just knew I wanted it when I saw it and I didn’t even hesitate. He’d laid out the cash and signed for it then drove it away in the same hour he’s seen it. Yeah, some in this business would be driving a Mercedes, Lexus or even one of those flashy Italian jobs. Not him. He liked the vintage cars and not just to look at while keeping it in his fucking garage.
Sleek, yet powerful. Simply a muscled machine, while delivering an unbeliVible kick of adrenaline whenever you outdistanced every car on the road.
The outer shell of the car was seductive, yet commanding, while glaring at you with a mean, unrelenting challenge as it provoked the wild part of you. It would tempt you to hop in, seducing you to flow with the changing of gears, while beguiling you with a belief you could catch anything that moved.
While on the inside, it beckoned with its plush comfortable interior, welcoming you and molding itself around your personality, while it made you feel safe. More than just a car, it existed as an entire experience, sucking you into some impetuous, long, hard ride, as if you were chasing something elusive and alluring, your blood surging through your veins.
As you lowered your foot on the accelerator, a tempestuous triumph buried itself with a sensual shove deep inside as you gripped the wheel, while the meaningless world flew by in a blur. You literally breathed in the pure horsepower, imbibing and reveling in its forbidden gratification of blinding, perpetual speed.
Then, at an instinctively defined moment, you slammed down on the hefty brake pedal while coming to a rushing halt. Reeling with euphoria, you would step out, releasing an exhilarating breath, feeling superbly satisfied and magnificently complete.
And you’d fight the enticing urge to get in and live it all over again.
But today, driving back to his place to pack for this fucking silly ass trip, it failed to make him feel better. Nor did it soothe his beast like it usually did. Gen suddenly realized was tired of all this. He’d been saving for the day when he could walk away.
The thrill of the kill just didn’t thrill him anymore.
You’re a monster too. Killing people for money.
He shook away the voice. Like that fiend had any fucking room to talk. But was it true? He was a monster. He’d felt colder every day. Like his soul was empty. He had a lot to account for. But dammit! He hit the steering wheel as he drove. He did NOT kill females, nor kids. If he crossed that line, he would be no better than that deranged, pathetic serial killer he just put down several days back.
He knew this was it. His fund was big enough. After he did this job, he was out. He hated his life lately. He used to feel fine with what he did. He didn’t even know when all that changed. Maybe it changed just twenty minutes ago while staring at such a beautiful woman and hearing he had to grab her and possibly take her out.
Maybe this was the last straw as they say.
The problem was. In his business, you weren’t allowed to get out. Not on your own. He knew too damn much.
He made it home and went in to pack. He only had a few hours until he had to take a train of all things. Berating himself he tried to think of it as a working vacation, but that wouldn’t fly. He’d rather be on a beach somewhere. He envisioned having her on the beach with him.
He opened his front door with a sigh. Yeah, right.
He went and took a hot shower. Not that it helped as he thought of his mark again. He flinched…His mark. Dammit, he wasn’t going to be the one to kill her. No fucking way.
He dressed casual for the trip and packed up. He would have to leave his car in the security parking area at the terminal. Fuck, he sure as hell didn’t want to do that. He hated taxis and well, hitmen didn’t call a fucking Uber. He chuckled at this thought.
Gen arrived an hour later and got a ticket for his car. Looking around, he sure as hell, hoped their security was better than their clerk’s service as he’d waited a half hour for the dammed ticket.
Man, if anyone touched his damn car, he would kill. Again, he chuckled at his own joke. Yeah, it was bad humor, but fuck, he needed to loosen up before he met this girl. He paused at the train ramp realizing he’d missed something very important. Girl? Nope, she wasn’t a girl, she was a woman if that photo told him anything.
The missing piece was twofold. First of all. What the fuck was her name? They never told him and he’d been so struck by her looks and stunned about the job itself, he forgot to ask.
He got on the train and shrugged the worry away. It didn’t matter, maybe it was even better as he wouldn’t have to lie to her by already knowing her name. He stashed his bag and sat down. This was gonna be a dammed nightmare riding this for how long? Days? He let out a frustrated sigh as he pushed his fingers through his dark hair.
Gen winced. He was a killer, not a fucking con man. Dammit, he hated this whole idea.