Freed (Bad Boy Hitman Romance) by Terry Towers, Stella Noir
Authors: Terry Towers, Stella Noir
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side and then reopening again. Ooops, that might leave a bruise. “Look, I gotta go.” I didn’t wait for her to reply, If I entertained her conversation any longer, Rebecca would be awake before we got to our destination. Pressing the button for the garage, I gave her a little wave and pressed the button to automatically close the elevator doors.
Letting out a loud sigh of relief, I watched the lights flick as we hit each floor. Thankfully, no one else got onto the elevator on my way down. The coast remained clear all the way to my car, which was parked in a dark corner of the garage.
Popping the trunk, I lifted the hundred plus pound bag up and into the trunk. Unzipping the bag, I quickly pulled her out of the bag and bunched the bag under her head, giving her a not so soft pillow. The idea was to keep her face from smashing against something and bruising her. I didn’t want an accident marring her beautiful features. I was going to be stuck looking at her pretty much all day every day for the next little while, so I didn’t want to have to look at some gaping wound or big bruise.
Not to mention the blood that might get into the interior of the car. Blood was a bitch to get out. With one last look at Rebecca, I was satisfied she was nice and secure, and I closed the trunk.
Walking around the car, I slipped in behind the steering wheel, reached across the seat, and unlocked the glove compartment. Inside was a pistol equipped with a sound suppresser. After placing the pistol on the passenger side seat, I started the car up. Turning on the satellite radio to my favorite R&B channel, I began my two hour drive. All I had to do was make sure I got there before she woke up – ideally. And not get pulled over. Cops didn’t take too kindly to people driving with unconscious women in their trunk, and I certainly didn’t relish the idea of killing a cop.
It was kind of an oxymoron, really. Even though just about everything in my life was against the law, I didn’t have any particular dislike for authorities. As long as they left me alone, I returned the favor. And they did help keep the riff-raff off of the streets.
The drive was nice and quiet, until about ten minutes before I arrived at our destination. That was when the screaming and banging on the trunk of my car started.
I cringed. If she kept it up, she was going to dent my trunk. I was tempted to stop the car and shut her up, but I kept going. We were too close to our destination for any unscheduled stops.
By the time we arrived at a little cabin I’d purchased not too long ago, the kicking and screaming had stopped. I’d bought the cabin for the very purpose of bringing her here, if needed. Or if I needed a little getaway from the hustle and bustle of L.A. The amount of time I was planning on staying in L.A. after the job was done was still undecided.
Shutting off the car, I grabbed the pistol and shoved it into the waistband at back of my jeans as I got out of the vehicle. Popping the trunk, I peered down at Rebecca. Her body was completely still, with the exception of her chest slowly moving up and down.
She’d still be foggy on what had happened to her. The drug I’d given her had an effect on short term memory. It would slowly come back, but normally took an hour or so after the person woke. “There’s no use in playing possum. I heard the screams and kicks. I know you’re awake.”
Her mouth dropped open, just slightly. Despite the blindfold, I could see the surprise in her expression. “Kyle?” she asked, her voice raspy.
I chuckled. “Good call, baby.” Switching the gun from the back of my pants to the front, I reached into the trunk and lifted her out. To my surprise, she allowed me to lift her out. I was expecting a struggle, kinda savouring the idea really. I would have liked to have seen a little fighting spirit within her, so this was a bit of a letdown.
Throwing her over my
Letting out a loud sigh of relief, I watched the lights flick as we hit each floor. Thankfully, no one else got onto the elevator on my way down. The coast remained clear all the way to my car, which was parked in a dark corner of the garage.
Popping the trunk, I lifted the hundred plus pound bag up and into the trunk. Unzipping the bag, I quickly pulled her out of the bag and bunched the bag under her head, giving her a not so soft pillow. The idea was to keep her face from smashing against something and bruising her. I didn’t want an accident marring her beautiful features. I was going to be stuck looking at her pretty much all day every day for the next little while, so I didn’t want to have to look at some gaping wound or big bruise.
Not to mention the blood that might get into the interior of the car. Blood was a bitch to get out. With one last look at Rebecca, I was satisfied she was nice and secure, and I closed the trunk.
Walking around the car, I slipped in behind the steering wheel, reached across the seat, and unlocked the glove compartment. Inside was a pistol equipped with a sound suppresser. After placing the pistol on the passenger side seat, I started the car up. Turning on the satellite radio to my favorite R&B channel, I began my two hour drive. All I had to do was make sure I got there before she woke up – ideally. And not get pulled over. Cops didn’t take too kindly to people driving with unconscious women in their trunk, and I certainly didn’t relish the idea of killing a cop.
It was kind of an oxymoron, really. Even though just about everything in my life was against the law, I didn’t have any particular dislike for authorities. As long as they left me alone, I returned the favor. And they did help keep the riff-raff off of the streets.
The drive was nice and quiet, until about ten minutes before I arrived at our destination. That was when the screaming and banging on the trunk of my car started.
I cringed. If she kept it up, she was going to dent my trunk. I was tempted to stop the car and shut her up, but I kept going. We were too close to our destination for any unscheduled stops.
By the time we arrived at a little cabin I’d purchased not too long ago, the kicking and screaming had stopped. I’d bought the cabin for the very purpose of bringing her here, if needed. Or if I needed a little getaway from the hustle and bustle of L.A. The amount of time I was planning on staying in L.A. after the job was done was still undecided.
Shutting off the car, I grabbed the pistol and shoved it into the waistband at back of my jeans as I got out of the vehicle. Popping the trunk, I peered down at Rebecca. Her body was completely still, with the exception of her chest slowly moving up and down.
She’d still be foggy on what had happened to her. The drug I’d given her had an effect on short term memory. It would slowly come back, but normally took an hour or so after the person woke. “There’s no use in playing possum. I heard the screams and kicks. I know you’re awake.”
Her mouth dropped open, just slightly. Despite the blindfold, I could see the surprise in her expression. “Kyle?” she asked, her voice raspy.
I chuckled. “Good call, baby.” Switching the gun from the back of my pants to the front, I reached into the trunk and lifted her out. To my surprise, she allowed me to lift her out. I was expecting a struggle, kinda savouring the idea really. I would have liked to have seen a little fighting spirit within her, so this was a bit of a letdown.
Throwing her over my
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