In Penelope’s line of work, it’s all business. Nothing like a little of the past to get inthe way.
Pen mashed the pedal to the floorboards and leaned forward as if to help thewaffling engine kick into gear.
“Come on. Come oooooon!”
The piece of shit Duster gathered itself up and shot into the night. Sucking hercigarette down to the filter, Pen scanned the darkened expanse of Southwestern desert.
She flipped the butt out the window and watched the sparks bounce and fly in herrearview mirror. No flashing lights back there, but it could be just a matter of time.
“Shit-shit-shit-shit-shit-shit, shit! ”Her fingers alternated between drumming the steering wheel and raking throughher hair. She flicked her gaze to the mirror again, and she found comfort in theglowing yellow lines that disappeared into the darkness.
She groped around on the dash for a hair tie, and propped her knee against thewheel while she used both hands to peel her curls from her face. After, she settled backinto the seat, hooked her wrist over the top of the steering wheel, and eased intoautopilot.
Another day in paradise.
***
A lumbering, clanging garbage truck woke Pen early. She stretched languidly and dove back under the covers. Her hands traveled up the muscular legs next to her, until they reached the prize. Pen grabbed hold of Brian’s testicles and pumped her fingers, squeezing and releasing as she slurped the end of his shaft into her mouth. He smelled of sex and sleepy sweat, and tasted salty sweet. A sharp intake of breath sounded from somewhere above the blankets, followed by soft grunts and a yawn. Just as she was hitting a good rhythm, the phone rang.
Pen groaned, flipped back the covers and grabbed the handset. She pressed the buttons two and three at a time until it stopped trilling, and fumbled it to the side of her head.
There was no, “Hello, how are you?” Just, “Got a job for ya, Peanut,” followed by instructions. She scrubbed her face with the back of her hand and scrambled for a pencil and scrap of paper.
Thirty minutes later, freshly showered and coffee in hand, Pen sat on her kitchen counter and deciphered her notes. She blew the steam off the top of her cup to clear the view. She couldn’t decide how she felt. The mark was worth enough, and she’d definitely earn her money-and it wasn’t like she had a choice or anything. At least she wouldn’t have to waste time learning his moves. The only trouble was, he was just as familiar with hers.
“Shit.” She crumpled the scrap of paper and tossed it into the garbage disposal.
An hour later, she chucked her bag of tools into the trunk of her car, which left her forty-five minutes to get across town and check in before heading out. She flipped open her phone and thumbed her brother’s number on the speed dial. “Hey, Matty. Can I use your garage? Cool. You got a car for me? Thanks. I just gotta make a stop. Then I’ll swing by. Be there in about an hour.”
She dropped the phone on the seat and swung onto the freeway. Thirty minutes later, she pulled up in front of a squat cement building in the center of a block of warehouses.
Pausing for a deep breath, Pen thought about the crap she was about to take. She stepped out and slammed the car door. Avoiding the oil spotted gravel, she double checked the address, and pounded on the steel door. Two short hits, then she yanked at the handle. Clarence peered at her from around the doorframe of what must have been an office at one time, just off to the right. His glare turned to a chuckle and a nod of recognition.
“Hey there, Penelope. How’s tricks, kid?”
She gave him a sarcastic sneer in reply. Clarence was pure ‘old-school’, and he firmly believed bending over in back alleys was the only place for women in the ‘business’. He’d made his opinion crystal clear from day one. But over time, she’d made her bones and earned a little begrudging respect from the guy.
“Nothin’ doin’, Clarence. Shit don’t pay enough.” Pen briefly squeezed his arm on her way past. Clarence pivoted his considerable bulk and matched her stride down the dim hallway.
“Yeah, I guess no matter how you slice it, though, they’re fucked when you’re through with ’em, huh?”
Pen had to laugh at that one. She pulled herself together just in time to knock on the very last door.
Hollow wood muffled the “Yeah!”, but she heard it and took her cue to enter. As soon as she was on the other side of the threshold, Clarence leaned in, grasped the doorknob in his meaty fist and gently shut the door behind her.
Even in these utilitarian surroundings, Hector was slicked back and dressed to the nines, not a strand of his salt and pepper hair out of place. The reading glasses perched on the tip of his nose were endearing, but did nothing to lessen the power of his presence. Pen leaned back against the door and waited quietly for him to finish what he was doing. Calmly, he made a final slash with his pen and peered over his glasses.
“You can sit, you know.” He spoke with the air of someone who is accustomed to being the voice of reason. He gestured to one of the ratty chairs in front of the metal desk, and swiveled to deposit his paperwork into a file cabinet to his right. “I apologize for the seedy location, but I’ve got some matters to attend, and as the old saying goes, never shit where you eat.” He paused and looked at her again, removing the half moon lenses from his face. “So, how’s my Peanut today? Are you ready for this?” Pen sighed and moved to the chair, flopping down like an obstinate child. “Just gotta test me, dontcha, Hector?”
Hector chuckled softly. “Yes, Peanut, I do. You’re welcome.” He leaned back in his chair and regarded her for a moment. “Believe me, this job is warranted. If it tests your loyalty, then that’s icing on the cake.” Hector punctuated this last comment by leaning forward again and laying his elbows on the creaky desk.
Pen examined her cuticles. “Loyalty, huh?” Hector didn’t take the bait. He’d known her too long for that.
“Peanut, I love you too much to let you blow this. And I respect you enough not to bring up all I’ve done for you since I yanked your scrawny ass off the streets.” He raised an eyebrow.
“Subtle, Hector.”
He chuckled. The sarcasm bounced right off him. “It’s time for you to get going. Just another job, kid. Big bucks this time, too; Platinum Bones…yeah.” He let the last word roll off his tongue and fade. He shook his head slowly, no doubt remembering the hit that had taken him into the six-figure bracket.
“Yeah well, Boss, I should probably get to it, huh?” Pen cringed on the inside, trying to belie the trepidation that rippled through her. He only chuckled at her again and tossed a legal-sized envelope on the blotter.
“There you go, Peanut. See ya on the other side.” With that, he turned back to the open file drawer and began walking his fingers across the letter tabs. He glanced at her one last time, and she took her cue to leave, swiping the package off the desk in passing.
“See ya, Hector.”
She exchanged parting nods with Clarence on the way out. The second she had her car door shut, she ran her thumbnail along the top fold of the envelope. Inside were photos- very funny, Boss- an address and an itinerary. She tossed it on the seat next to her phone and cranked the engine. She wanted more than anything to spit gravel at that faded little building, but she refrained for composure’s sake.
Within twenty minutes, she rolled into her brother’s shop yard. A pair of grungy hounds trotted up to her door and snuffled at the window. They left smears and smudges in their drool-soaked excitement.
“All right, guys. Jeez. Gimme a minute to get out of the car!” The big boys backed up and rested on their haunches while she squeezed through the generous space they offered. Pen smiled at their goofy grins. “Hey, boys.” She walked between them, scruffing them each on the head as she went.
Matty came out of the shop, grease rag flopping between his hands. “Hey, Sis.” He tilted his head and squinted at her through the midday glare. She and Matty had the same brown eyes. Their blue-eyed dad always said, ‘ Just shows how full of shit you twoare. Just like your fuckin’ mother!
“Whatcha got for me?” Her baby brother always had a spare vehicle sitting around.
Disposable, as they say.
He smirked. “A Duster. Straight outta seventy-two. Heh. No balls, either. Hope you don’t get sloppy.” He held out the keys with two fingers.
Pen crossed arms and glared at him.
He snatched the keys back and grinned. “Alright, I messed with it a little bit. It’ll get you out of a jam, I’m pretty sure.” He turned and ambled towards the far end of the garage. “But you know, if you don’t want it…” His laughter followed him around the corner.
Pen grabbed her stuff out of her car and hauled it around the corner of the building.
She found Matty standing next to the ugliest shade of yellow she’d ever laid eyes on, offset horrifically by a tattered, once-white ragtop.
“Laugh it up, little man. Your time’s coming.”
Matty tipped his head back with an appreciative laugh. “Yeah, Pen. Keep telling yourself that.”
Pen swiped the keys from his upturned palm and stretched to give him a peck on the cheek. She stuffed some bills into his shirt pocket. “See ya, bud.”
“Take it easy, Sis.” He closed her door and stepped back, and Pen pulled away.
***
Jason leaned into the girl he had pinned against the wall in the back room of the bar.
He braced himself, then pulled her legs up around his hips. He reached between them, nudged the little swatch of fabric to the side, and sunk his fingers into her. She was on fire for him, or maybe it was the bourbon that had her all lubed up. Either way, it worked out in his favor. He always got hot before a job.
“Oh, God, Anthony! Oh!” She wrapped her arms around his neck and her lips around his Adam’s apple. Jason fumbled with his button and zipper, pried his rigid shaft from behind his briefs and slung the waistband beneath his sack. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a condom, but she grabbed his hand before he could tear the package open. Her look smoldered.
“Let me do it,” she whispered, and sunk down to her knees. She opened the packet with her teeth, put the condom in her open mouth and grasped his prick with both hands. Keeping her eyes on him, she slowly drew the tip into her mouth and pushed down, her lips taut and unrolling the thin sheath over his dick. When she reached capacity, she swallowed once, throat constricting around him, and he groaned and pulled her up, not willing to wait another second.
She swung around and leaned her forearms against the wall. Her ass shoved against him. He grasped her hips and drove it home in one thrust, holding there, feeling his pubic hair press against her sticky flesh while he regained control. The heat was intense, and she clenched around him like a vice.
“Fuck me, Anthony! Please fuck me!” She wiggled her hips and ground against him.
With a half-groan, half-growl, he pulled back and poised to slam into her again. She whimpered and tilted her pussy towards him, and Jason began pounding. She cried out through clenched teeth and arched her back. Her head dropped, her mouth opened wide, and she shuddered and slowed their rhythm, switching to long, slow gliding strokes up and down his cock, squeezing him until he thought he would pop.
Not. Just. Yet… he chanted as she rode him harder. She grabbed her own tits and squeezed with more force than he would have done.
The sounds of a commotion in the front of the bar filtered back to Jason’s consciousness. “Ah, good to see you, sir! The usual, then, is it?” The bartender had given the cue. Jason pumped faster until the friction made him explode. He grunted into the back of her neck, and bit and sucked and gushed.
His spent cock slipped out and hung limp and soggy over his briefs. She turned in his arms and kissed him deeply, then touched his lips and eased around the doorframe into the ladies room, wiggling her mini skirt back down around her thighs.
Jason hit the men’s room, flushed the condom and cleaned up a little, splashed water on his face. He snuck a peek at the front room and slid through the greasy door into the alley behind the bar. Releasing a breath, he picked through the scattered garbage and retrieved a silenced pistol and a small device he’d stashed earlier. He shoved the weapon in the waistband of his jeans, then-device in hand and hand in pants pocket-he strolled casually out of the alley and into the street.
When he made it to the other side, he continued on a block, then pressed a tiny button on the device. The windows of the bar exploded onto the sidewalk. He jumped at the sound, turned and trotted back to the scene, and blended in with the crowd that was already gathering.
Scanning the onlookers, he selected a bland, polyester clad woman and moved to her side. “What’s going on?” he inquired casually.
The woman’s gaze wavered only momentarily in his direction. “Well, I couldn’t say, but it looks like a fire or something. Something sure made a noise! Didja hear that?” She swung her mousy head in his direction. “BOOM! Just like that! I saw the whole thing, you know. I was standing in that window, right up there.” Her stubby finger prodded the air towards the opposite side of the street. “I’m lucky it didn’t explode all over me!” She smelled ready for picking. He just had to determine which approach to use. After studying her movements for a few minutes, he was ready to launch into his act, though the very idea left a bitter taste on the back of his tongue.
“Say, um…you wouldn’t by chance… Oh, never mind.” He shook his head and chuckled to himself, sheepishly looking away at the fire.
“What? I’m not going anywhere with you, mister! What do you think this is, a singles’ joint? We’re in the middle of the street watching a burning building, for Pete’s Sake!”
He put his hands up defensively. “Oh, no! No, no. I mean… I wouldn’t dream of… I would never be so forward. Sorry. I was just going to ask if you had a cell phone. Mine’s dead.” He watched all the tumblers click into place in her eyes. Surprise…good.
Realization…yes. Aaannnnd…mortification. Her eyes widened and a flush rose from her throat to flood her cheeks. There ya go, sweety.
She took a step back and tittered. “Oh, sorry. I guess I…” She struggled for grace-saving words. “I don’t have a cell, but you can use my phone upstairs if it’s local.” She nodded her head towards the window. He imagined the gun going off in her face. Click,click, boom.
“Really? I mean, are you sure? I’d really appreciate it, but you know…” She waved him on. “Don’t be silly. Besides, the street’s full of cops right now. How safe can a girl get?” She half smiled, the irony of her statement flashing in her eyes for a split second before it was dismissed with a blink. “Come on, I’ve got to get back up there anyway. My kitty’s probably going crazy by himself.” Jason gave her his most earnest smile. “Wow, you really are nice. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.” Phase Two. “I have to call my girlfriend and let her know something’s up, or she’ll have my skin when I get home.” He looked at the ground as he walked. “She’s funny like that, I guess. Don’t get me wrong, I mean, I love her so much, but…” He sighed almost too heavily and glanced up at her on the stairs. “Sorry. You don’t even know me. What do you care?”
“Oh, no! I mean, please, if you need to get something off your chest, then who better than a new acquaintance? I have no idea who you’re talking about, right? So I’m safe for venting. Go ahead. I don’t mind.” She smiled softly and waited for him to catch up to her on the landing. She gained a new level of enthusiasm with each flight of stairs, until they finally reached her floor. “Oh, I am so sorry! I never got your name! I can hardly let someone into my home before I even know his name, now can I? My name’s Gail, by the way.”
Resting her back against the door jam, she extended a small hand towards him.
Jason gave the hand a limp pump. “I’m Derrick. Nice to meet you, Gail.” He shuddered inside as his palm slipped against hers. She already felt like a corpse-greasy, sagging skin, no muscle tone, and cool to the touch. He resisted the urge to rub his hand on his shirt.
Gail beamed at him and turned toward the door. “Pardon the mess, Derrick. I wasn’t expecting company, of course.” The door opened immediately into a tired, mud-toned living room, all long and narrow. Thirty-year-old furniture in various stages of collapse lined the walls. Jason watched Gail shove a pile of semi-folded laundry to the side of the couch. “Have a seat, I’ll go grab the phone from the kitchen. You want me to get you something to drink while I’m in there?”
Jason scanned the room, his gaze landing on the window. He stepped to it and peered out at the rapidly dwindling chaos below. This’ll do nicely.
He heard Gail fumbling in the sink and imagined her hastily washing a couple of
‘decent’ glasses, even though he’d never answered her question. He pulled the pistol from its nesting place and padded towards the kitchen.
***
Pen propped the detail list on the steering wheel and figured out what time she’d arrive, where he would be, and where she should wait. Each location on the itinerary sparked a flashback. When they’d met, when they’d fought, and when that rage had transitioned into passion… She shook her head and smiled in spite of the situation.
The drive only took a couple of hours, and she was a little amazed that he’d been so near, for however long he’d been there. She pulled into his apartment complex, found a nice, quiet spot, and double-checked her notes and supplies. After a quick scan of the parking lot, she slipped out and walked towards the back of the building. She took the stairs and let herself into a dim hallway.
Four doors down on the left waited an empty apartment. Four doors down on the right sat the target’s place. Pen listened for a minute, then let herself into the empty residence.
She stashed her tools back in her bag and took a quick look around. The bathroom was a hollow shell with a hole in the floor. Great! She checked her watch-no time to make a run. Luckily, she’d made a pit stop in town, because hide-and-seek always made her feel like she had to pee.
She settled in to wait, sitting and leaning against the wall, and pulled out the contents of the envelope. She hadn’t given the photos any more than a cursory glance, so she took a minute to study them in detail now. Not much had changed in three years. He looked a little closer to dead, but that was about it.
She ignored the pang, but couldn’t stop the memories from flooding back. Resigned to getting them over with, she tipped her head back against the crinkled wallpaper and closed her eyes.
There he was-all smoldering eyes and slack-jawed concentration, the electricity between them so thick that she could easily picture his sighs coming out in rushes of colored vapor. He’d always known just where to touch her, just which buttons to push.
They’d been in it together, the two of them, completely open, no false names or histories. No one else had ever given her that.
Glancing at her watch, Pen idly traced the fingers of her other hand across the inseam of her cargo pants. The hard knob of material, where all four seams met, was positioned just so, and she rocked against her hand, pushing against the shape.
“No time for weakness, Pen!” she admonished herself.
She sprang to her feet and began pacing the cramped entryway, checking the parking lot on each pass of the window. Get it together, Pen. It’s a job. Just a job. After several rotations, wiping her sweaty palms on the seat of her pants, she glanced again and saw his vehicle pulling up to its assigned spot.
Pen scrambled to her bag and withdrew her weapons, hastily fastening and stashing them into the pouches and pockets of her clothing. Gotta be ready. One quick shot. She screwed the silencer onto the muzzle and slid a round into the chamber.
She rested her gloved fingertips lightly against the doorknob and peered through the peephole. Within seconds, she heard footsteps on the carpeted stairs to her right.
***
One shot to the temple, slightly angled to the back, was all it had taken to leave the shrew in a heap on the kitchen floor. Jason returned to the window and watched the activity below for a while. Matching cops to vehicles assured him that he had accounted for almost everyone on the scene. There was a small gathering of blue off to the side of the hook and ladder. They’d be canvassing soon, he imagined.
Jason grabbed Gail’s keys off the small table next to the door, let her cat out, and exited through the rear of the complex. He weaved through a few alleys, and meandered down a sidewalk or two until he came to his car. As he pulled away, his first genuine-if sardonic-smile curled his mouth.
That was slick. Bonus points awarded for securing a safe spot in which to watch the bar over the next couple of days, and see if the target showed up to assess the damage in person. All bets said he would-Hector kept a tight reign on his business holdings. But Jason knew Hector better than any of the morons who paid his bills. Hector was no fool.
He’d be there, just not quite yet.
Swinging his car up behind an old warehouse, he checked his mirrors one last time, then stepped out and stuffed his hand behind the puckered metal sign to the left of the loading dock. It took a bit of finger wiggling, but he soon had his package in hand. He briefly flipped the flap to check the contents, returned to his car and headed home.
As the streetlights slid across his windshield, he couldn’t help feeling smug. This would put him in a new tax bracket. And well deserved, he figured. He’d paid his dues and worked for every penny he’d earned. In the ten years he’d been an independent contractor, he’d graduated from Molotov cocktails to pipe bombs, to the very latest in plastique. Better toys were more expensive, especially when you only used them once, but the pay scale evened it out.
He’d spent a couple thousand in his head by the time he turned into his complex.
That would be the first thing to change. Time for new digs. Maybe he’d go further west, as in ‘all the way west’.
He pulled in, yanked his keys and jumped out of the car. The calculations put a spring in his step: how much money to throw into his retirement account, how much he could spare to start fresh in another scene. Well, not completely fresh-he’d need his contacts and references, of course.
He made what was, hopefully, one of his last trips up the stained, carpeted stairs.
and jangled his keys into position in the lock. He heard a click from inside, just seconds before the latch of his door disengaged.
He threw his door open, spun inside and back against the wall. What the fuck wasthat? He reached out to swing his door shut, and caught a glimpse of movement in his peripheral vision. He threw his hand in that direction and felt the heavy contact of his fist against metal. A gun clattered to the floor and spun across the hall. He turned to face his would-be attacker.
“You’re shittin’ me!” He drew a slow breath, forced his body to relax and exhaled. He raised himself to the balls of his feet, resting his weight lightly.
“Hey, Pen.” He backed into the room, drawing her inside with the challenge in his gaze.
A knife, balanced loosely in her right hand. “Jay.” They eyed each other warily.
“Well, ain’t this special. It’s been a while, huh? Did you find me to satisfy your own curiosity, or is this a business call?”
“All we know is business, Jason.”
They circled each other slowly.
“Aw, come on, Pen. We did alright.” He took another slow step to the left. Pen followed, staying directly in front of him, body angled sideways, just out of arm’s reach.
Every muscle in her body looked coiled and ready to spring at any given moment. Shewas always so damn good. He shook his head. “Hector sends you. And you wonder why I went solo.”
“Hector’s a smart man, Jason.” Her weight shifted.
He leaned in slightly, centering his weight with a small bend of his knees.
***
Recognizing the gleam in his eyes, Pen drew both arms up, elbows bent, fingers loosely curled, ready to snap into tight balls of sinew and bone, fist and blade. “Well, this should be fun.”
Just as the words left her mouth, Jason threw his fist straight at her face.
Instinctively, she blocked his swing with her forearm and used his momentum to propel herself sideways. She drew her knee back and slammed it into his groin. As he pivoted to face her, she hopped to the side. There was blood in his eyes.
This was not going to be fun.
***
Jason tasted bile in the back of his throat. He needed to get a grip. A joker’s grin stretched his mouth. His cheeks ached with it.
She watched him, sizing up the damage, no doubt. This wasn’t going to work here.
He’d have to take care of her, but not yet. She had a few tasty morsels of information to feed him first.
He feigned a left jab and circled around with his right fist, aiming at her temple. She barely blocked the swing, and his fist grazed past her ear, snagging the cartilage with a grinding crunch. That’ll get her head ringing, at least.
He dodged a swipe of the blade, swung with his left again and connected with the side of her head. She staggered sideways and attempted to shake it off. He didn’t give her a chance, and followed with a fist to her diaphragm. She doubled over, air gushing out. The knife dropped to the carpet. He sent his knee into the bridge of her nose and she was down for the count.
Squirrelly as she was, he knew he needed to act quickly. He scooped her up, checked the hallway once more, and carried her out the back door and down the fire escape stairs.
Shit! His car was parked in the front lot. He set Pen on the stairs, leaned her head against the railing, and peeked around the corner of the building. All seemed quiet in the twilight. Still, he needed to get his car over here.
What a pile of crap this day turned out to be! He shot a glance at Pen, who still seemed to be out cold, then made a casual dash to his car.
***
Pen came to with a bad case of the spins. Her tongue was dry and she sucked on it a little while she took in her situation. Jason leaned against the corner of the building, looking towards the front parking lot. She dropped her jaw and closed her eyes when she saw him turning in her direction. The metal railing bit into her temple, but she kept her head in position and worked out her next step.
As soon as she heard his footsteps jogging away, she sprang up, thankful she’d parked where she had. She looked in Jason’s direction as she sprinted towards the Duster. His eyes met hers, just as they both climbed into their respective drivers’ seats.
Pen already had the keys in the ignition and was cranking the engine when she slammed her door. She could hear him following suit. At least she’d had the foresight to back into her parking spot, a piece of training he’d obviously forgotten. She slammed the shifter into first and popped the clutch, tromping on the gas.
She needed to hit the desert, where she’d have open space to maneuver and no witnesses, time to get into a defensible position. And all her gear was still upstairs.
“Crap!” She pounded the steering wheel and dodged slower traffic. She’d have to go back there. Sloppy, sloppy. No damn good. Good thing she always kept a spare.
A glance at the rear view confirmed he was with her. Ironic as it was, she was going to kill him or die trying. She figured a small part of her would die either way.
She shot wide around a vehicle in the left-hand turn lane, and swung onto the freeway on-ramp. Jason was only a block behind. She fumbled for her sunglasses to block the last shots of sun and merged into the oblivious traffic, crossing all four lanes in an effort to gain some ground.
Jason stayed right on top of her. They kept at it for miles, until the off ramps began spreading out and leading only to back roads and three-pump gas stations. Pen leaned forward, fumbled under the seat for her ‘emergency’ weapon and wedged it beneath her leg.
Eventually there was nothing but desert, and a check of her gas gauge told her it was time to get this over with. Pen braced herself and veered off the road onto the hard- packed sand. Her tires shuddered over every crack and crevice. She bounced the front end through a series of divots and came to a screeching halt in a ravine. She flipped off the headlights the moment the tires stopped moving, giving her eyes a chance to adjust before darting out behind a pile of boulders. Between the Duster, the ledge of the ravine and the rocks, Pen figured she had as much cover as she was going to get, and knew it wouldn’t be close to enough.
***
Jason couldn’t help but laugh when Pen’s vehicle spun off the road. He pulled over and watched the headlights bounce wildly into the night, come to a stop and go out. He eased his car into drive and crept out onto the desert, aiming his wheels toward the spot where he’d last seen those headlights.
Of course, Pen could be creeping along in the dark, just to throw him off her trail, but he suspected she’d holed up somewhere to wait for him-she’d never been one to back down.
The front end of the car dipped and rose over the last ripple of hard-packed sand, then tipped towards the bottom of a ravine. His headlights landed on the piss-yellow Duster, parked at an angle against an outcropping of rocks. She’d been there long enough for the dust to settle. He had to assume she was prepared for whatever move he was about to make.
He killed the engine, cut the lights and gave himself a minute. No sounds interrupted the stillness. No movement violated the dark, but he knew she was there somewhere-he could feel her. It appeared he wasn’t going to get any information after all.
Nice move, rookie. May as well get it over with now. He grabbed his gun off the seat and opened the door slowly, crouching behind it as he crept out of the car. He scanned back and forth over the shrouded terrain and picked up more details as his eyes adjusted to the dark.
***
Perched behind a pile of rocks, Pen watched the lights brighten the closer Jason’s car came to the ravine. Just before the beams crested the hill, she put her back against the rocks and closed her eyes to prevent blinding. She heard the tires slide, crunching down the gravel on the bank of the riverbed. The undercarriage scraped against the rocks at the bottom.
The car stopped and the engine cut out. She checked her weapon with her fingertips; safety off, round chambered, two handed grip. She drew a breath and waited for the sound…and there it was. Just the slightest tick, as the headlights were switched off.
Pen rose to her full height, propped her elbows on the rock in front of her and sighted in on Jason’s forehead. He squinted into the darkness, partially shielded behind the open driver’s side door. Perhaps he heard her, or felt her, because he ducked down and to the left. But he didn’t duck far enough.
Fish in a barrel, Pen. Duck on a pond. Her hesitance bothered her.
Unacceptable.
She squeezed the trigger gently, depositing a bullet just left of center, leaving a black dot on Jason’s forehead, visible only for a second before he slumped backward and fell to the ground. She released her breath and relaxed her arms, waiting for the echoes of the gunshot to fade.
Not foolish enough to take her eyes off him, she crept down from her shelter, eased over to crouch at the front fender of his car, and watched him closely for signs of life.
The sight and smell held a sure sign of death-he’d released his bowels.
Pen made a quick sweep of his car, gathering any items she deemed useful before she tore off in the Duster. She performed a mental inventory of the contents of the bag she’d left at the apartment complex. There wouldn’t be anything with which to identify her, but she knew better than to leave equipment by choice. She bumped her car back onto the highway and headed to town, stopping only to fill her tank at the first available opportunity, an unmanned pay-at-the-pump station. She paid in cash.
Flashing lights surrounded the complex. Apparently they were on to Jason and/or his disappearance. She continued driving, careful not to speed up. Leaving her gear behind grated on her, but she didn’t really have a choice.
The second she hit the state highway, the heebie-jeebies set in. She couldn’t control it. She just kept watching the mirrors and urging the car home faster.
***
Even after the review, Pen couldn’t think of anything she could or would have done differently. Should have been a clean shot at the apartment, but his reflexes had been too damn quick. It ate at her a little, but she was Platinum now.
She leaned her head back against the seat and smiled. Platinum! Triple figures.
She stopped at her brother’s place, chucked some beef jerky at the boys, and switched cars while they munched away happily. Back in her garage, she let out a huge sigh and sunk into the car upholstery for a few minutes.
The heavy door rolled shut behind her, and she eased out of the car, took her shoes off in the entry and crept into the house. She padded up the stairs, stripping off her clothes as she went.
The shower was incredible, and Pen allowed herself some time to think. A few tears stung the backs of her eyes, but she pinched them off by squeezing her eyes shut, and scrubbed away the crazy day.
Clean and dry, she padded naked to the bedroom and slid under the covers. Her hands traveled up the muscled thighs beside her until she reached the prize. Brian stretched and gave her a sleepy smile.
“Now then. Where were we?” Pen grinned and slurped his stirring cock into her mouth.