Page 8 of Unwritten Rules

I broke first and couldn’t tell if I was intrigued or terrified after a staring contest with him. Forcing myself to move quickly, I all but jumped into the house to slam the door.

Last one, I thought, peeking quickly before closing the door. He chucked his cigarette to the ground and pulled off his jacket, revealing a plethora of tattoos covering his entire upper body. He pulled that smirk back up and looked over to me, letting me know he was well aware of what I was doing.

“Want to start getting ready?” Kelly asked from deep in the house.

“Uh, yeah.”

?Chapter 3

Brent

“Put this on,” Reapermuttered, throwing a balaclava at me.

I grunted and slipped it over my head.His obsession with masks is ridiculous.

The Dictator–my grandfather–had me sequestered tocovertjobs recently. He hated the so-called “stunts” I pulled, which weren’t anything but basic fights–that were agreed to.

Maybe.

Okay,notmaybe.

Too many assault cases would do that to a guy.

“I hate wearing this shit. Plus, they know it’s me.” I picked up my bag, slinging it over my shoulder.

The toys would come out to play tonight for a man who betrayed the trust of the family business. I swore The Dictator ran the conglomerate like a mafia, but who was I to judge? I was just a bastard who liked violence to him, which left me shoved into a job that best suited my capabilities.

The job was simple.Elimination.

Reaper was the best man for the jobs that dealt with pulling information–and teeth. His love of violence was second to none.

“How long is the ride, boss?”

Holding out a duffel bag ofwork itemsto him, I shook my head. “Stop calling me boss. We’ve been over this; it’s weird. Just Brent. The ride shouldn’t be more than an hour. So, three hours max tonight, and I have a party to get to after this job. Let’s not dawdle, shall we?”

One would think that after a couple of years of working with someone we’d have the names down.

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