Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
“Why don’t you want me to kill anyone?” she asked.
He finished locking up his equipment and turned toward her. Her hands were by her sides, open. He always noticed a person’s stance. It had kept him alive this long. Knowing if you were going to be attacked at any moment was important. At least to him it was.
Reading people came with the territory of being a killer.
“It changes who you are, taking a life. You’ve got to be prepared to live with the guilt.”
“You do?”
“Yeah, you do.”
“Do you feel guilt?” she asked.
He thought about it and nodded. “Yeah, I get guilt. The first man I killed was a rapist.” He deserved to die, but still Dwayne felt the change inside him.
“He was a monster.”
“Yeah. I saw him in the act. To be honest, I can’t even remember if he was my first kill or not. They all kind of mingle together right now. I don’t know who was first.” He shrugged. “I certainly should tell little girls about this.”
“I don’t feel like a little girl.”
She looked away.
“What is it?” he asked.
“It’s nothing.”
“I don’t bullshit you, Charity. Don’t start with me.”
“Fine. Everyone wants me to forget. They want me to move on and be my happy self.”
“You can’t.”
“Could you?”
“I had a lifetime of pain and suffering even before I took my first life, Charity. You’re not like me. You’re a woman, and you’re not a killer.”
“But I think about it.”
“You think about killing?”
“Yes. Those men. They took something from me, and now, all I can think about is hurting them.”
“They’re dead.”
“But men like them are still out there. Murderers, rapists, child abusers, people who don’t deserve to live.”
“I don’t play God in my line of work. I do a job. They were hurting you, and it was my job to kill them.”
“How many people have you killed in total?” she asked.
“I don’t keep count.”
He’d stopped counting years ago. When he was at the height of his training with Caleb, he’d gone out hunting for men who he could work and train on. Being a Carson, he had to know when to sniff out the weak, the evil, and the vulnerable. He’d never hurt a man, woman, or child that hadn’t deserved it. He’d killed a few women that were evil to the core, protected children, and driven his blade through men’s hearts time and time again.
What he didn’t realize when he was younger was how valuable the Carson name was. They commanded respect through sheer force and will. No one took a shit without them knowing about it.
Rats, snitches, betrayers, enemies, they were all part of the people he’d taken out. No one was safe as far as he was concerned.
“I think it’s time I went home,” she said.
He nodded and moved toward the passenger door. Climbing behind the wheel, he started his car and drove them back to his warehouse. Today he’d made her come with him to begin this training.
“Taking a life, it’s not easy?”
“No.”
“You live with it though.”
“It’s my job to live with it.”
“Thank you for today,” she said.
He watched as she left his car and made her way to her own. When she pulled out of his parking lot, he followed her, not wanting to risk her being alone or someone waiting.
She didn’t veer off the path, and the moment she was in her home, he drove off, heading to a bar near the center of the city where he could forget all his troubles.
The bar was a strip club. The music was always soft, and normally he liked to look at the women prancing around naked or dancing until they were.
Today he wasn’t interested in the women, just the music and the hard liquor that was poured for him. He knew there was a time Beast and Caleb used to come here. Long before they had women and families. Now when they came here it was to deal with the books in the back. No woman was allowed near them.
“Has it been a long day?” Caleb asked, coming to the counter.
“Fuck me, man. Just thinking about you brings you into existence.”
“You’re the nightmare, not me.”
“What are you doing here?” Dwayne asked.
“Got word that you were here and decided to come and see what’s wrong with my good nephew.”
“Like you give a shit.”
“I do give a shit. Don’t mistake my lack of caring for not giving a shit.”
Dwayne snorted. Of his two uncles, Caleb had been the one who’d come closer to shooting him a lot more often than Beast.
“Well, we’ve had that pleasant chat.”
“Beast wants a word,” Caleb said.
“Of course he does. Don’t you get tired of being his messenger?” he asked.
Caleb laughed. “We’re both his messengers. When you go on one of your killing sprees, it’s not you they fear. It’s Beast’s tool. Remember that.”
He didn’t mind.