Page 5 of Rivals & Revenge

She waved off the young man who offered her his arm and slowly hobbled towards the waiting car, the dark blue SUV shaking as she plopped into the back seat.

The familiar black Hummer pulled up, taking position in front of the door.

“Showtime.” I whispered, a slow smile spreading across my face.

The breeze was gentle enough that I didn’t feel it move against my cheek. Even so, I checked the scrap of fabric I tied atop a flowering bush near the hotel entrance and found it nearly stationary, perfect.

My target stepped into view, the morning sun glinting off his balding head.

I took a deep breath, allowing my entire being to relax into that familiar rhythm; breathe, relax, aim, stop, squeeze.

Another breath, my body going slack on instinct. I adjusted my aim the slightest bit to the right. In... Out... In… out...; the target rising and falling in my sight.

As he stepped onto the mark, I held my breath, my target falling into perfect alignment as I eased the trigger back.

I rolled, pushing myself into a standing position quickly, taking my weapon with me. Three snaps and my plucky little Scout was fastened securely beneath my coat. God, I loved my tiny little death machine.

“One shot, one kill. No luck, all skill.” I hummed the familiar refrain to myself as I quickly descended the tight spiral staircase that emptied into the foyer below, my feet tapping out the same staccato rhythm my heart pounded.

Once I reached the bottom of the stairs, I took a moment to slow my breathing and steady my heart.

The soft pop of my buttons coming undone was the only sound in the silent stairway. I slid my strappy sandals into place, smoothed my champagne-colored tea-length bodycon dress and draped my now folded coat over my forearm, stepping into the foyer just as the bells atop the church began chiming their Sunday morning song.

The doors to the sanctuary opened, and parishioners flooded the room as they hurried for the doors.

I slipped in beside a young woman about my age, mimicking her movements and expressions as she stepped outside onto the pale limestone steps that led to the street below.

To my left, the street was in chaos; people screaming and two distinct male voices, both barking orders.

I walked the two and a half blocks in the opposite direction at a brisk pace; hurried, but not running. My throat clenched, capturing my breath as four police cruisers screamed by, lights and sirens blaring.

The chirp of my car unlocking sounded like freedom, as did the purr of the engine as I pressed the start button.

I eased into traffic, disappearing into the crush of cars leaving the surrounding churches, hotels and movie theaters. Just another faceless, nondescript person with no ties to the pande-lerium downtown.

My phone chirped from the seat beside me, followed closely by another. The acknowledgement of the kill and the payment being wired to my bank.

I pulled in a deep breath, the phantom scent of roses already filling my nostrils. A perfect rose. I would give him a perfect rose this time.

Another chirp had me reaching for my phone. There were never more than two.

“1”

I clicked the “1” on my screen. One eye on the phone, one trained on the road ahead.Don’t tell me that fucker survived. I’ll go straight back over there and shoot him again. Fucker.

I let go of a heavy breath as the details came on screen. “PITA,” I grumbled under my breath. I hated these types of clients. The ones who insisted on controlling every facet of the job and micromanaging me. I’d not so affectionately dubbed those assholes “PITA” or “pains in the ass”.

“Tonight. Nine-thirty. Balder’s Grove. Blades only.” I read off the list of requirements.

My heart rate quickened at the thought of dropping two roses on Rossdale’s doorstep in the morning. The opportunity was too beautiful to pass up.

So yeah, I would deal with the PITA and savor every delicious moment of it.

Chapter 4

TIERNEY

I reached Balder’s Grove, just shy of two hours early in hopes of finding a good hide.

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