Page 77 of Filthy Savage

“You givemy men access to the security cams or I blow your brains out. You choose.”

I cock my nine into the back of the man’s head, his body shaking before a set of computers.

“I—I could lose my job. Please?—”

The barrel digs in deeper. “You will lose your life, so you decide. You’ve got five seconds. Because once I kill you, I’ll get the footage anyway. May as well save yourself.”

His hands quiver, his eyes staring at Pierce, one of my guys.

“Your time is up.”

“Okay! Here!”

He jumps off the seat and starts for the door, but before he can get far, Pierce grabs him from behind and puts one into his head, killing him almost instantly. He saw us. There was no other way this could go.

“Hurry up,” I tell Pierce. “We need her info ASAP. Then we stuff him into the luggage and get him out of here.”

“Yes, sir.”

While one of my men keeps eyes outside, Pierce starts clicking keys, eyes concentrating on the footage while I paceback and forth, hating that I have to kill a woman. But she’s a witness, and she has to go. I’ll make it painless.

“Okay. Got it. Amara Edwards.” He shoots off an address. “She lives alone. Young. Want to see her?”

“No.” The more I disconnect with this, the better.

“Want me to take care of it, boss?”

It’d be easier if he did.

“No. I’ve got it. You two take care of this before someone catches wind of what happened to him.”

“Don’t worry. We’ve got this.”

While they take care of the body and the cameras that could ID us, I head into my car, hating the job I’m about to do.

I arrive at a small one-story home, an older blue sedan in the driveway. The lights in the house are off as I sneak into the back, hoping she isn’t looking out the window.

Thought about hiding my face, but it doesn’t matter either way. She’s gonna be dead.

Removing a small screwdriver from my pocket, I slip it into the lock, thankful I keep this shit on my keychain.

After a few seconds, a click resonates, and when I twist the knob, I know it worked.

My eyes adjust to the surroundings: a small square kitchen, a narrow hallway running perpendicular. The wood floor creaks beneath my feet as I start in that direction, where all the rooms must be.

Fingers curl around the nine at my waist, a syringe in my pocket. I’ll drug her, then kill her. Better she doesn’t know what’s coming. Don’t want that. It’s not her fault she was there.

As soon as I step left, a woman’s roar causes me to jump back and something hard hits me on the arm. When I look down, I notice the plastic Tupperware bowl.

Was she aiming for my head? That’s cute.

I let out a laugh. She was waiting for me.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Ms. Edwards. We wouldn’t want you hurting yourself.”

She gasps with a low cry, but I won’t let that affect me.

“P-p-please, leave us alone.”

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