Page 1 of Lethal Vengeance
1
QUINN
The sparkling blue water of the lake laps gently onto the shore, lending a peaceful, rhythmic sound to the still air. Only to be shattered a second later by the infectious sound of children screaming and laughing on the swings behind me. I sigh and shift restlessly on the hard bench. It’s a beautiful place for two killers to meet.
Lifting my face toward the warm sun, my eyelids drift to half-mast while I covertly survey the people around me knowing he won’t be alone. Sifting through the potential options, I quickly dismiss most of them. Two men stand out. The nervous-looking one standing by the edge of the lake who glances in my direction every two minutes on the dot, and the jogger who’s been stretching his hamstring three benches down from mine for the last fifteen minutes. A prickling sensation on the back of my neck tells me there is a third behind me, but I don’t turn around.
Noon brings an influx of people desperate to take advantage of the cooler April temps. Workers from nearby office buildings plop down at picnic tables to eat their lunch. Their chatter and laughter automatically shift the atmosphere in the park from serene to lively.
Mimicking those around me, I pull a sandwich from the brown bag on my lap, unwrap it, and pretend to take a small bite. My mouth moves in a chewing motion while I discreetly pinch off a piece and drop it on the ground. A simple charade to blend in with the crowd.
I glance at my watch. Five minutes.
It’s our first in-person meeting. For the last year, job details have been delivered via a series of messages and men. Small at first, they progressively scaled in both difficulty and risk until I proved myself capable of handling anything and everything—all for a chance to get closer to him.
My body quivers, and a tiny jerk escapes. Coiled like a spring, my muscles tense in anticipation of being inches away from him. All the options for a quick strike and kill run through my mind like an action flick. My fingers flex. My breathing picks up. The sun gets hotter. My jaw locks rebelliously. Head and body war with each other for a few precious seconds while I try to shove the murderous need down into the deepest part of me.
A quick death isn’t the answer. Sophia is counting on you to give her peace, I remind myself.
A bead of sweat rolls down my face. But when I reach up to swipe it away, the past collides with the present.
I raise my hand to wipe the wetness from my cheek, but the Texas air is thick and dry, stealing the tears before they can fall very far. My black dress clings to the sweat on my body, but for me, the heat is a distant thing. Ice coats my insides until I’m almost numb.
The white casket in front of me, draped with a bounty of yellow roses, contains my beautiful mother. Sixteen, and both my parents are dead. I’m officially an orphan. I glance at my stepfather, Roberto, the man crying beside me, and wonder when God will decide to take him, too.
Tiny fingers grip mine, and I look down at my favorite person in the whole world… my sister, Sophia.
“Who’s going to take care of me, Quinn?” she asks, her bottom lip quivering.
“Me. And your dad,” I state firmly.
“Promise?” Her dark brown eyes search mine for reassurance.
“I’ll always take care of you. Promise,” I reply, holding my pinky out for her to hook with hers.
The memory fades to nothing, like a broken promise.
I breathe in for a few seconds, then slowly exhale to the same count. Inhale. Exhale. False moves will only scare my prey away. A mutilated body swims up from the depths of my memory, and I smile in satisfaction. That’s the fate my enemy deserves—the same brutal death I gave to his brother.
A glint catches my eye, and I swiftly turn my head to the right to search for the source, but I don’t see anything. Tensing, I scan the people on the path. Another quick flash, and I zero in on it… and breathe a huge sigh of relief. It’s not a gun or a knife aimed at me, but a watch glinting in the sun.
A man in a white suit is leisurely strolling down the park path, licking an ice cream cone. Every time he raises his arm to his mouth, the sun catches on the gold watch circling his wrist.
Tall, dark, and handsome. Wealthy too, judging by the custom-tailored cut of his spring suit. The epitome of casual elegance. He pauses to flash a brilliant smile at the beautiful woman walking past him. She slows in response. Admiration crinkles the corners of his eyes, but he doesn’t stop. His long legs continue to eat up the distance between us. A charade. One he’s perfected for years.
His tongue darts out and licks the ice cream cone in his hand, bringing my gaze to his handsome face. Close enough to see his eyes, I watch their dark depths flick toward me. He murmurs something to the man next to him, then moves to take the seat beside me.
Armando Morales waves a hand toward the water. “Such a beautiful spot, is it not?”
I lift my hand and take a bite of my neglected sandwich, which lost its flavor hours ago. “Beautiful.” The flat tone of my voice gives little away.
The slight stiffening of his body is the only indication of his irritation. “Quinn Jones. Or is it Quinn Smith this week? Who needs last names, right?” He chuckles. “I’d heard you were all business. While it’s a sentiment I echo most of the time, I implore you to think of how much more you can accomplish with some manners.” His voice is hard when he delivers his warning.
I say nothing. It’s all I can do to keep myself contained during this first meeting.
He gives a strained chuckle and studies me for a minute. “My men provided me with pictures and detailed reports on you. Beautiful, but cold. Hard. Business focused, with little personal life. Intelligent with an ability to think fast on your feet. I’m happy to see it’s all true.” He pauses. “What they failed to mention is the fire inside you. Even now, I feel the edge of its burn. Maybe they didn’t notice. Is it ambition? I hope so, but I guess time will tell.”
More perceptive than his brother.
