Hit: A Thriller (The Codename: Chandler) Read Online Free PDF

showered me.
    I glanced up, recognized Football Face who’d dined with Bratton, focused on the 9mm in his hand. Apparently they hadn’t made a deal at the restaurant, and had chosen Option B. I tensed my muscles to throw myself back out of the way. Then Heath was hurtling over me, knocking the pistol back, stabbing for the guy’s eyes, falling on top of me.
    “Drive, drive, drive!” Heath yelled.
    “What?” Bratton sputtered, finally releasing my hair.
    Tires squealed, and we lurched forward. Horns sounded from all angles. A sharp pop sounded from outside.
    I had to act. I had no gun, but that had never stopped me before. Pushing myself up, I felt Heath behind me.
    “I suggest you go back to what you were doing, bonita . At least then you’ll be keeping your head down.”
    Right.
    I was Simone the prostitute, not Chandler. I couldn’t respond to this the way Chandler would. I had to remember that.
    I looked at him, not bothering to hide my natural fear. “What are we going to do?”
    Another pop, this time it sounded as if a round had hit the rear fender.
    “Take the next right,” Heath said to the driver.
    The car veered, but even with my head down, I could tell the man’s cautious driving wasn’t going to get us anywhere. Unless I wanted to resort to my first plan of hoping everyone died in the resulting car crash except me, I’d have to jump behind the wheel and blow my cover.
    Heath beat me to it.
    As he crawled through the privacy divider and into the front seat, the driver’s side window exploded, and the car veered sharply to the right. Bratton and I slammed hard against the door in a half-naked tangle of thrashing limbs.
    Shit. The driver must have been hit.
    Or maybe Heath.
    A crunch of metal shuddered the air and ripped along the length of the vehicle, but before I had time to speculate about what we might have sideswiped, the vehicle righted itself and accelerated.
    I pushed myself away from Bratton. Glancing into the front, I spotted Heath’s head above the headrest. The driver slumped against the passenger door, clearly injured, maybe dead.
    A groan came from the back.
    Bratton.
    With the waist of his pants binding his thighs and his complexion the color of dried concrete, he’d looked better. “Are you okay?”
    Another groan.
    I slid onto the backward facing seat Heath had vacated. Keeping my head low, I reached out a hand for Bratton. “Come on.”
    He clutched the edge of the seat, not moving.
    I glanced out the rear window. From here I could see the car behind us. Football Face was driving, his boss extending a muscled arm out the passenger window, a pistol in his fist.
    I looked back down at Bratton— more specifically at his ring, bright gold against pudgy knuckles white from clutching the arm rest.
    “Climb up on the seat and put on your seat belt.”
    Heath took another turn, the CEO tumbling to the right this time.
    Great.
    “Belt yourself in before you get killed,” I yelled. It would save me time and effort, since I was planning to kill him later anyway, but my concern wasn’t for him. Riding in the back with him rolling around was like being inside a pinball machine trying to dodge one hell of a heavy ball.
    He reached for my outstretched hand just as Heath took another sharp corner. Bratton toppled to the other side, hitting my legs so hard that for a moment, I feared he’d broken my ankle.
    Shadow enveloped the car, and I realized we were under the tracks of Chicago’s elevated train.
    I unhooked my belt and reached for Bratton. “Let me help.”
    He offered a beefy mitt. I grabbed it with both hands and yanked him up onto his seat. Lunging for the shoulder belt, I pulled it across him and latched it into place.
    Heath hit the gas, the car surging forward, its motion pushing me on top of Bratton, my chest landing on his face.
    “Oh God, I feel sick,” he said, his words muffled by my naked breasts.
    Shit. The ipecac.
    Sometimes my timing really sucked.
    I rolled off