3
GUNN
Scarlet’s green eyes lock onto mine as I squeeze her throat. She’s fought a good fight, harder than anyone I’ve ever taken out. Has forced me to push myself to the limits just to keep her from flipping the tables on me. If I gave her an inch, if I fucking took a millisecond to catch my breath, she would have done it. I have no doubt.
Truly, it could have been either one of us. Her speed and skills match my sheer brute strength perfectly. So, I knew it was imperative to get my hands on her and not let go.
I dig my thumbs into her windpipe as she does everything in her power to break free. But she’s growing weaker by the second, her attempts more ineffective with each try.
Even when her arms fall limply to the floor and her entire body becomes slack, her fingers twitch. A fighter till the end.
Beneath my thumbs her heartbeat slows. And just before her consciousness visibly fades, she winks.
I stare at her reddish purplish face, stunned. She fucking winked at me.
That’s when it hits me like a fucking hammer to the chest, and suddenly I can’t breathe either. I’ve just taken out my greatest adversary. The one I actually look forward to sparringwith. I’ll never again see that pretty mouth curve up so evilly that I can’t help but smile back. Or the glint in her green eyes when she tugs out those big knives she’s so fond of. Or the outfits that fit her like a glove and make me hard just thinking about it.
Or the fact that the last thing she did was wink.
What was that for anyway? Was she flirting? Was that some last way of saying she thinks I’m hot? Was it anI’ll see you in Hell? Most likely, it was afuck youandyou’ll be wondering about this for the rest of your life.
Her heart pulses once more beneath my hold, and I release her neck.
“Fuck.” For several moments, I remain there, staring intensely at her chest, waiting for it to rise and fall. I search for signs of life—a breath, a smile, another wink. Hope for one.
I watch so closely, I’m actually scaring the shit out of myself because I never let anyone come back from the brink. I’ve never been more desperate to know what someone’s last thoughts were.
I’ve never regretted killing someone.
Suddenly, Scarlet sucks in a breath and the red of her face begins to fade.
“Fuck,” I repeat when I scramble away from her, my stare still glued on her as she coughs and stirs.
My last view of her as I slip out the front door tells me she’ll be in pain, but fine.
As for me, however, I think I’m fucked.
I sit on the edge of the bed and stare at my hands, though what I’m actually seeing is Scarlet, my fingers around her ivory neck, squeezing.
Fuck me, she has soft skin. Softer than any assassin has a right to. Smelled good too.
Never in all my years of dispatching scum have I been so fucking turned on by one, but I couldn’t hide the raging hard-on that hellcat gave me when she wrapped her legs around my waist and started grinding herself on me. I was choking the life out of her and she was trying to get herself off!
Fuck. I should have listened to Carina when said it would be a bad idea for me to come down to New Orleans.
A few days ago, some members of the Sinacore Alliance met at Luca and Carina’s home in New York. Arran Maxton discovered Scarlet and his teenaged sister-in-law, Maisie, have been keeping in touch via text messages on burner phones. Messages that have given the alliance information on her whereabouts.
“If Gideon helped Gavin take back The Red, he did it without that cunt,” Carina said regarding Gavin Alexander, suspected traitor to the alliance.
“Where is she?” Luca asked.
Carina slid her fingertip over the messages as she read. “He sent her on a mission a week ago. She’s in New Orleans. Alone.”
We all looked at each other.
“What’s in N’alins?” I asked. “Or who, I guess?”
Luca frowned as he mulled it over. “Enzo Marcone controls that area.”