Viper: A Hitman Romance Read Online Free PDF

number that Drax called me from.  It's time to report in.
    Got her.  Instructions?
    Short, sweet, and to the point.
    The phone buzzes.  He writes back almost instantly.
    I know.  I saw.  Keep her cuffed and stay put for now.
    He saw?  What the hell does that mean?  I know I wasn't followed.
    And now I'm throwing open all cupboards in my kitchen.  I don't keep any food here in this safe house.  It'll just spoil for how often I'm actually in this place.  But I do keep a nice bottle of single malt in here somewhere.
    His text has me a bit out of my head right now and it takes me longer than I'd like to find the bottle.  I know no one followed me to that bar.  And no one followed me home.  Nobody follows me.  Nobody gets the drop on me.
    I step outside, gun in one hand, glass in the other. 
    The street's empty.  It's quiet.  And I know every one of my neighbors, what cars they drive, and everything is in exactly the right place.
    Is Drax just fucking with me now?  
    He seems like the type to do that.  I'll bet his sense of humor is just as sick as the rest of him.
    Back inside.  Another glass.  I check the rooms downstairs for bugs and cameras and turn up nothing.  Everything's clean and exactly how it should be.  How the fuck is he doing this?
    Shouting snaps me out of my thoughts and back to reality.  Jessica's making a fuss for something. 
    Not that I'm worried about the noise — my house is as soundproofed as a musician's studio.  She could scream bloody murder and the Riley family next door wouldn't even bat an eye.
    I go upstairs to check on her.
    She's got her legs crossed, red lips pursed, and a bit of sweat on her forehead.
    Jessica looks me square in the eyes. "I need to use the bathroom."
    Just great.
    Managing bodily functions is another one of those things I hate about kidnapping.  Most guys, they give their hostage a bucket and tell them to make do, but that gets messy.  And I like this safe house.  The wood floors are new, the bed is comfortable as all hell, and it's clean. 
    And you know what can ruin all that?  If you guessed 'shit and piss everywhere' you're right on the money.
    "Number one or number two?" I ask.
    I can't believe I'm saying this.
    She looks at me like I'm five years old.
    "Seriously, does it matter?  I need to use the bathroom.  It's urgent ."
    There's two bathrooms in this house.  One's downstairs, and it is not an option.  Ground floor means too many ways for things to go wrong.  And then there's the bathroom here, just off the master bedroom.
    I unhook her from the bed and then re-cuff her.  She heads into the bathroom and starts to close the door behind her.
    "Nuh-uh," I say, and she stops short.
    "Nuh-uh what?"  Her voice is all thorny indignation.
    "Keep the door open."
    "Why?" 
    She's challenging me.  They always do that.  Just like children, hostages always find a way t test boundaries.
    "Just do it."
    "No.  That's weird.  You're weird."
    I cock back the hammer on my gun. 
    "Do what I tell you."
    I'm not going to have her in a room all by herself where I can't see her.  Yes, it's weird to have the door open, and no, I don't like it, but I don't leave these things to chance.
    "No way.  I won't be a part of your weird fetish.  Besides, I bet you already have a camera in there, so you can just watch me that way.  It's bad enough I have to do this handcuffed."
    Her eyes flash at me one last time, then she slams the door and I hear the 'click' of the lock.
    Then there's a splash, some muffled cursing, and then the clank of the toilet seat slamming down. 
    Serves her right.
    I wait.
    A minute passes.  Then another.
    I'm actually glad she shut the door.
    Flush .  There's the sound of running water.  It goes on and on and on.
    Too long.
    I get up, crossing the room in two fucking steps because I'm practically leaping like a fucking Olympic long jumper.
    Either the plumbings busted or she's raising some sort of hell and, either way, I'm kicking