Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
Why am I like this? Sure, I was raised on the streets and surrounded by crime. But I could have taken another path for my life, yet I chose to join the mob. I chose to become a hitman. And as a result, I may have destroyed any chance for a life filled with love.
When I leave work, I head straight for my car and speed back to my apartment. I have to lock myself in and find a way to distract myself so I don’t rush over to Ali’s. But once I step inside, all I see is the wall where I held Ali and pressed my knife to her throat. The couch where I pinned her down and fucked her. Even holding my door open makes me cringe as I think back to the moment she walked out, stunned and trembling from my cruelty.
“What have I done?” I mutter.
I stand there like a statue, unmoving for hours. I don’t know what else to do. Making myself a meal or watching TV feels wrong. I don’t deserve to enjoy life without her. If she’s suffering, so must I. I know that if I move a muscle, I’ll end up going straight over to her apartment to stalk her like the maniac I am.
So I stand there, eyes closed, focusing on my breathing.
And then the wind stirs outside.
A breeze blows through the window and lifts her scent from the couch, funneling it into my nostrils.
Almond cherry…
That’s all it takes. It’s like a bolt of electricity that snaps my eyes wide open. I grab my car keys from the counter and rush back out the door, heart pounding like a madman. I break every speed limit and run every red light on my way to her place.
I’m not going to break in tonight. That would be wrong.
But just a little glimpse from across the street? I can handle that. Right?
I feel like an addict justifying having a single drink after a length of sobriety. Deep down, I know there are more ways this can go wrong than it can go right, but I just can’t stop myself. I’m in a nearly hypnotic state as I cross the road and enter the vacant house, my mind already swimming with visions of what I might see tonight.
Then, just as I’m closing the door behind me, I catch a tiny red flash out of the corner of my eye. Adrenaline dumps into my veins as I whirl in its direction. It’s gone. I open the door again and close it, and the light re-appears–a single blink from beneath an old stack of rotten plywood.
I hurl the boards aside and reach into the mess and pull out a Wi-Fi motion sensor. Sweat breaks out all over my body, and I instantly place a hand on my gun. Someone planted this here. Someone who specifically knows I come here to watch Ali. So either that someone is a person from my past life who has tracked me down and is monitoring my movements…
…or that person is Ali, and my worst fears have been realized. My heart sinks.
I knew it. Ali is a Fed.
I also know what has to happen next.
I have to kill Ali.
An avalanche of emotions rock me to my core, and I sink to my knees. It’s as if I’m carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders, and it’s doing its best to press me down into the earth so deep that I’ll never see another human again. And I would deserve that. There is no punishment great enough to make up for the terrible things I’ve done–for what I’m about to do.
I’ve never been a big religion guy. I guess that goes without saying. But maybe this is God’s cruel way of getting back at me for the cruel and terrible life I’ve led. I tried to put my sins behind me and move on, but maybe this is his way of telling me that no matter what I do, I’ll always be the same twisted, dangerous killer that I’ve always been.
I look up and see Ali’s silhouette through her bedroom window. Automatically, as I’ve done so many times before, I lift my binoculars to my eyes and peer through the slats in her blinds. She’s wearing a big, baggy T-shirt again. Only this time, it comes down past her ass like a short dress. I can’t even tell if she’s wearing panties, but I assume that she’s not.
I’m instantly hard. My mouth waters as I picture her sweet little pussy hiding between her legs. I’m practically drooling like a dog begging for its bone. Ali’s up there, half-naked, prancing around because she knows I’m watching. Because she wants to tease me with the beauty that I pushed away. It’s all part of a bigger scheme to try and get me to take her back into my life. That way she can gather information on me. Try and get me to talk about my past so they can send me to prison.