Assassin's Baby (A Bad Boy Romance) Read Online Free PDF Page B

perhaps already had his phone in his pocket and was already speaking to the dispatcher at that very moment. Miles hurried as fast as he could, barreling through the Southern California desert brush which scratched his face and neck.
    He made it to the house after a quick cross country style sprint through the vegetation and unkempt landscape. His usual attire was soaked – trench coat and tank top beneath. His boots were covered in dirt, along with his blue jeans. He scurried up the back steps in a panic and kicked through the glass door, aiming his gun squarely before him.
    He scoped the house quickly and efficiently with his jawline clenched. He couldn’t find the man. He’d started in the kitchen and made his way quickly into all the downstairs rooms, and then hurried upstairs, still holding the rifle before him.
    “ Fuck…” He muttered, “Fuck’s sake …”
    As he neared the master bedroom which was located at the end of a narrow hallway, the door burst open and two shots rang out. The first of which came from the target himself – he’d fired at Miles with a pistol, and the bullet grazed his ribs - and the second of which belonged to Miles’ own rifle. It was a clean shot this time. Just the way Miles liked it, but a little too up close and personal. The man’s chest burst open in a grotesque splatter of blood and bone, and he flew backwards into the room.
    He lay dying on the carpet. His chest rose up slowly as he breathed heavy, choking breaths. Blood ran in spurts from his mouth. His eyes looked glazed over and like they were desperately fighting for life. His fingers twitched and his arms writhed on the ground. He clutched at the hole in his chest and began to moan a low pitched, gurgling moan. Then he went quiet.
    Miles took short quick strides into the bedroom and checked the man’s pulse with a gloved hand. He wasn’t dead, not yet. He would be, but Miles didn’t take chances, and he didn’t like being so up close and personal with one of his targets. Watching this man suffer was making him feel uncomfortable, and he suddenly got the urge to vomit. He aimed the rifle at the man’s head and pulled the trigger.
    Rushing out of the house, he scurried frantically back up the hill and towards the mountains where he’d parked his truck. He hopped in, started the engine and squealed off, leaving a trail of dust behind him.
    When he got home, Miles took off his trench coat, tank top, and jeans. He through all of his clothes in the washer and rushed to the shower where he let the steaming water wash over him… Cleansing himself of more than dirt and sweat – cleaning himself of his sins. His jawline clenched tightly and he cleared his mind. He didn’t know why this one had bothered him, other than the obvious. It was the first time he’d been up close and personal with a hit, and he didn’t like the way the man had been choking on his own blood.
    That said, he was a survivalist who believed in survival of the fittest. The man was going to kill him if he had the chance, and had tried to by shooting him. Which reminded him of his shoulder. There was a sharp pain twinging from it and Miles ran his fingers over the graze, soaping it up with an antibacterial lather. After the shower he slathered his shoulder in disinfecting ointment and stood naked on his balcony. He let the wind smack his face and muscular body as he cleared his head.
    This was a busy week. He still had another hit on the list and another three hundred thousand dollars being deposited into his account. The hit was to take place two days from now. If only he knew then what he’d find out shortly after…
    *

EIGHT
    He went over to Alexandra’s that night. Parallel parking his SUV on the narrow, steep Hollywood hills was a bitch. It was crammed, and he barely found a space which was two blocks from her home. He walked up the sloping hill and up the steps where he knocked on her door. She opened immediately, wearing nothing but a thong.