***Crane***

 

I hear the voice of a woman. I’m guessing it’s the one I was paid to deal with. It’s coming from the alley on the left of me. “Move away from me or I’ll…”

“Or what, bitch?” A man’s voice sneers. “Or you’ll make me grab your hair and fuck that mouth? Because other than a hot, warm hole, it doesn’t hold any importance to me.”

I round the corner and take in the scene in front of me, along with the idiot that just threatened her. Seems like trouble follows that lush ass of hers.

“You mind stepping away from the woman?” I tell the guy. “Because that mouth is of importance to me.”

Mainly because she needs to keep it shut, by all means necessary, but that’s not the point right now. This fucker interfering with my assignment is.

The fucker wraps his fingers around her throat and takes one step toward me, keeping her pinned to the wall. “Mind your own business.” His other hand reaches for his leg and when he lifts it back up, twirling his wrist, I see he’s got a fucking butterfly knife pointing right at me.

My eyes fall shut and I give a quick shake with my head. For fuck’s sake. I didn’t sign up for this shit. The chick is a material witness who needs to disappear. As in drop off the face of the earth by stop breathing or get lost in the woods somewhere to live a long happy life without ever showing her pretty face ever again.

And for the record, she does have a pretty face, that’s for sure. But one way or the other, I’m the judge, jury, and executioner. Not the fucker who’s got her by the neck and waving a damn butterfly knife. Pansy ass.

“Hang on there, buddy.” My middle finger strokes my beard while I move closer. Yeah, I’m flipping him off before I kill him. It’s a mental thing for me, okay?

I trace my bottom lip with my tongue, eying him carefully, like I’m thinking things through. Or the fucker might think I’m praising the idiot who’s still wielding the butterfly knife. My gaze connects with the woman’s gray orbs that strangely enough don’t carry a hint of fear.

It’s after midnight, dark as hell, but the alley is letting in the moonlight that shows me her freckled covered face perfectly. Yeah, this is the one I was looking for. I tracked her inside a bar but she slipped out the back before I could get to her.

“Wanna pump her cunt while I fuck her mouth?” The idiot traces the tip of his knife along his own jaw. “She’s got two sides, I’m not that greedy. We could share.”

Okay, I’ve heard enough of this moron. In one smooth move I’ve caught the guy’s wrist and push up, impaling his head on his own butterfly knife. Damn, talk about making it easy for me. How stupid can a person be? 

I don’t have to answer my own damn question when I lock eyes with the woman who’s staring at me with wide eyes. Shit. Front row seat for capital murder. A-fucking-gain. But this time it’s me she’s witnessed kill a guy.

“Being a material witness seems to be your specialty, huh? What are you, a magnet for trouble?” I mutter while my fingers wrap around her throat.

“Must be,” she croaks. “Seems I’ve traded one dickface’s fingers around my throat for another’s.”

I can’t help the chuckle that slips past my lips. Damn, she’s cute. My fingers tighten, making her gasp in return.

“Careful there, Pickles. I’m nothing like anyone you’ve ever met. Not even Tico Borgio. Best remember that, Faya Kinley.” She gasps again when she hears her name. Or maybe it’s the name of the mob boss she witnessed kill a woman.

Leaning close, I make sure I tighten my grip just a little more, making it harder for her to breathe. “That’s right, I’m not just someone passing through…I came for you, Pickles.”

I don’t know if my grip was too damn tight, or it’s the realization that she was found, or what went on before I grabbed her, hell…might be all of the above. But she slumps in my grip and I just barely catch her. Well, that makes things rather easy.

I throw her over my shoulder and head for my bike. It takes a few ropes and a few minutes, but then I’m on the road with the woman strapped to my back and her legs wrapped around me. Yeah, you can ask how the hell does he do that? But it’s not my first rodeo. See? Nice choice of words, huh? Let’s just say I’m good with a rope, among other things.

I pick up speed and guide my bike toward the exit, it’s about fifteen minutes to my cabin. I built it myself about four years ago and it’s conveniently located in the middle of nowhere. Exactly for moments like this. For when I need a place to lay low for a while. I haven’t made up my mind yet about the woman. The job was to prevent her from testifying. I’ve already been paid because my ass isn’t moving before the cash is in place.

That’s right, I have a spotless reputation. A hitman who gets the job done. Any job, any time. Once I’ve given my word, and the cash is exchanged, it’s a done deal. No matter the consequences or obstacles, I will get it done. Something that the woman strapped to my back will find out firsthand.