Page 29 of Run Little Killer
His eyes drift down, body rocking back in the slightest, the blade no longer flush against my skin as he moves a hand toward his pocket. Adrenaline courses through me, body buzzing and tingling like I just licked a livewire. I'm fucking worth it, dammit, if to no one else than at least to myself.
I dart a hand up to grab the knife, my fingers managing to wedge beneath his and grip the handle. On instinct he closes his fist, palm squeezing around the blade as I yank it backwards. A scream rips from his throat as bright crimson rivulets trail from the fresh gash.
"Fucking psycho ass bitch," he hisses, rearing back his arm. His bloodied palm cracks across my cheek with a squelching sound, whipping my head to the side, teeth rattling in my skull.
"I'm not fucking crazy!" I shout, voice breaking as hot tears prick at the backs of my eyes.
His skin splits, easily parting as I bury the blade into his stomach. He chokes on a breath, eyes wide as he staggers backward. My bottom lip trembles, tears starting to blur my vision as I let out a feral scream and drive the knife into his stomach again. Blood sloshes from each wound I create, his pale blue shirt unrecognizable as it stains red.
I let out a gasp and flinch as the door flies open, wood splintering as it crashes against the wall. In that moment of distraction, the bleeding prick lunges at me, bloody hands clamping onto my shoulders.
"Lennon!" Rhett shouts, a crazed look I've never seen before in his blue eyes as they lock onto mine.
Rhett's thick and corded forearms flex, inked fingers roughly grabbing the man’s face and twisting his head until the bones crack. His arms go limp in an instant, sliding off my shoulders and hanging limply between us. Rhett releases his hold, the body crumpling to the floor as his head folds unnaturally to the side.
Holy shit, Rhett just snapped his neck.
13
RHETT
Afaint blush creeps across Lennon's face as she turns and heads into the garage, seeking caffeine. I brazenly stare at the way her hips sway, spandex clad ass bouncing with each step. I’m not the only one watching– Nix slowly swipes a hand across his chin and I elbow him, the two of us shifting our attention back to Kurt.
"You been running for a while?" he asks, puffing out his chest in an attempt to stand taller.
"Long enough," I reply, squaring my shoulders. I'm six-five and his head's barely past my chest; no amount of posturing can make him look threatening against me.
The fact that Mav said this job was a favor to a friend, paired with Kurt’s attitude, tells me he got burned and that's why we're here. This profession isn't exactly filled with boy scouts and law abiding citizens. Some of us just don't shit where we eat by ripping off the loads we’re escorting.
"Guess we'll see," he murmurs, face stoic as his suspicious gaze slides from me to Nix and back again. "Can't be worse than the last crew."
I jerk a nod, already tired of this conversation. Kurt may have his reservations about us, but it’s not our job to hold his fucking hand and reassure him. We’re here to do a protection run, clean and simple.
"So, we've got the route,” I grumble. ”Any specifics we need to know about cargo?"
"No particulars," he says as he relaxes back, leaning a shoulder against the roll up garage door. "Half a dozen crates, all packed and stacked and ready to roll out."
"We'll ride suicide behind the truck," I say, lowering my shoulders.
"And we'll agree upon a distress signal for the driver," Nix adds.
"Speaking of the driver, he's great behind the wheel. Only stops if he has to, but…" Kurt pauses, scratching the back of his neck nervously.
"Spit it out," Nix snaps, a sharp edge to his voice.
"He's a little...unbalanced."
"What do you mean?" I question.
"He's impulsive, and once he latches onto an idea or a task, he's relentless until he gets it." Kurt lets out a nervous laugh. "That's why he's so good at driving… but if he gets distracted, sometimes it's a little hard to get him back on course."
"So, on top of watching the load, we have to babysit the fucker?" Nix scoffs, folding his arms across his chest.
I cut him a glare, the asshole just shrugging his shoulders.This is why I take the lead when it comes to business.
"It'll be fine," Kurt reassures. "He needs the cash, so that'll keep him focus–"
"Was that someone screaming?" Nix asks, interrupting Kurt and looking towards the garage.
