“Fuck …” he groans.
“I told you not to fucking make a fuss,” I growl, as I lift his ankles and drag him toward The Shack.
His nails dig into the ground, carving up the soil as I haul him with me. “No!”
“Yes.”
“I don’t deserve to die over some drugs!”
“Then you shouldn’t have angered Sunny,” I reply, pulling him into the house.
The hallway is stained with blood from a previous encounter between Silas and Levi, but I still drag him into the main living room area, or what it’s supposed to be, because all that’s left is a grimy couch and one flimsy, wooden chair.
“But I don’t even know what I did!”
“Sit,” I bark, shoving him into the chair.
He groans in pain as I pin him down and open my bag of supplies to take out the rope I bought at the hardware store. I wrap the rope I brought with me around his chest.
“Whatever it was, it can’t be this bad,” he says.
“If Sunny has you on her list, it’s bad enough,” I tell him, as I secure the rope tightly.
“What list?” he asks.
I circle him. “You’ll answer to her now.”
I walk into the hallway and pull out my phone, texting her secret second phone the location details anonymously, along with the prize.
Sunny
I’m halfwaydown the mountain when one of my phones buzzes. I park my motorcycle along the road and pull out my phone tocheck, but there aren’t any messages even though I’m a 100 percent sure I felt it.
What the …
I pull my bag off my shoulders and fish out my other phone, the one number I never hand out to anyone except the people I trust.
And the message there makes all the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
Unknown: I have your next target at The Shack. Come and get your kill.
Fun?
Who sent this, and how does this fucker know who I’m hunting?
Fury courses through my veins, and I shove my phone back into my bag violently, throwing it over my shoulders, before I hop back on my motorcycle and immediately make a U-turn.
Goddamn the son of a bitch who thinks he can meddle in my affairs.
I don’t need to text them back. That text wasn’t a question, but an invitation, and I’ll find out who’s behind this within a single fucking minute.
I race back up the mountain toward The Shack, parking right next to the car that’s there and blocking the driver’s door so they can’t escape if they tried. I jump off and check the license plate. Frowning, I pull out my phone and hold up my list until I find it.
This car belongs to my next target.
He drove here in the victim’s car?
I pull off my helmet and replace it with a mask to make sure no one recognizes me, then stalk into the house. I pull out my knives, aiming before I even enter the living room.
