Turning offInternet Friendsby Knife Party so I could use the text-to-speech function on my phone, I fired off a text to the man in question.
“Yoooooo! Voxybabyyyy, I’m shooting you an addy in a sec; you know what to do.”
Almost immediately, I received a thumbs-up emoji, and my grin widened beneath my bandana. This was not my first time chasing down some fuckhole for fun, and Vox was usually more than happy to help me out.
To my surprise and absolute delight, my mark turned into a rather large detached home. This was highly unusual. Despite the fact that I was thrilled I wasn’t going to have to fish hisaddress out of the system to cash in on a new trophy for my murder shelf, it did make me wary.
If he hadn’t gone to the police, it most likely meant he was dirty and wouldn’t want the cops involved. It also meant his house was likely armed to the tits with cameras, and he probably had a gun or a bodyguardwitha gun waiting on the other side of his front door. Or worse, a gun in his car.
The cameras wouldn’t be a problem. I dropped a pin to Vox. Once I was inside and had my mark detained, I would send him the make and model of Buddy’s modem. Home network devices usually come with default usernames and passwords, which most users don’t ever think to change. It would be more than enough to get Vox in to wipe whatever digital evidence of my presence might be caught by any surveillance this guy had installed.
The man in question ripped down his long, winding driveway to the massive house that was set nearly a quarter mile back from the street. His property was enormous and was lined with a barrier of twenty-foot Italian cypress trees, which was excellent.
No witnesses.
But if this guy had a gun and managed to fire a shot at me, there was a risk someone would call 911 if they heard it. I doubted this area of the burbs was accustomed to a casual gunfight on a peaceful Wednesday morning, so I would need to disable my prey as quickly as possible.
Without taking my eyes off the man’s tail lights, I reached into the back seat and pulled out my tranquilizer gun. I still had all my murder shit from when I thought I would be killing Ryan. My tranq gun was my favorite way to get my marks under control before the fun began.
It looked like a tiny rifle but was much more lightweight and packed enough punch to knock a hippo out if I needed it to.
Once we made it to the house, Buddy hit the brakes abruptly in front of me. Laughing, I pulled up my parking brake, forcing my Bentley to drift to the left as he dove out of the driver’s seat.
Yup, Janie’s got a gun. Fuck… now that’s gonna be stuck in my head all day. Actually… wouldn’t I be Janie in this situation? Nevermind. Maybe ‘I shot the sheriff’ would be a better reference? Ugh, this is deffo not the time! FOCUS CAL, JESUS!
Giving my head a shake to get back in the game, I caught the matte-black flash of what appeared to be a Beretta clutched in Buddy’s right hand as he stumbled out of his vehicle.
However, he had no time to aim. The back end of my car was completing its drift exactly where he had tried to take cover, forcing him to dive once more.
He somersaulted out of the way like some sort of less-cool version of a Cirque du Soleil performer, causing me to laugh again as my car came to a stop seconds before slamming into his.
I sighted backward out of the window with my tranquilizer gun and nailed him directly in the ass just as he was stumbling back to his feet.
“Gotchya!” I grinned as he let out a strangledargghhhhand swatted at his ass as he fell to his knees.
I turned off my car and slipped out. It was a little tight getting out because of how close I had come to hitting his Jaguar, but whatever.
Shimmying between our two cars, I strolled over to Mr.‘I’m So Big and Bad I Beat Up Little Boys’and swiped his gun out of his nearly limp fingers.
“Yerrrr… in soooo, much shit… dooo yewww knooo who yerrr fuckinnn with?”
I chuckled and slipped his gun into the waistband of my jeans—sorry, Damian—and crouched down to meet his gaze. His facewas smooshed into his fancy custom driveway, and I thought he looked a little bit like a blobfish.
“Is there anyone in the house I need to be worried about?” I asked.
He tried to spit on me, but it just kind of dribbled out of his mouth due to the fast-working effect of the tranquilizer.
“I’m going to take that as a‘fuck you.’”I grinned before standing up and approaching the house.
If there was someone inside, they had definitely heard my car squealing out here. If there was a guard detail, they would be out here already, or I would have been shot at.
If there were civilians, then they were probably calling the cops or hiding… or both.
The cops were annoying but normally not a massive problem. Cassandra was my defense attorney (obviously), and she was a fucking bulldog. In the few situations that she couldn’t extrapolate me, Damian would usually come to my rescue.Swoon.
Damian Ryker hadseriousconnections with the legal system, which was a big reason why he had been able to swipe me out of that precinct when I was a child.
Don’t get me wrong, I was under no illusions about what kind of a man Damian Ryker was. I knew I had been groomed to be a killer. It wasn’t a secret. It just didn’t really matter. If I could go back, I would have made the same choice, especially knowing what I know now.
