Chapter One
Katrina
“You are in a lot of trouble, little girl! You and I both know that you stole that diary and used it to write that book. Now granted, I am a reasonable man and if you had the common courtesy to ask me before you penned my life story, then we could have worked something out. As it stands, well, to put it mildly, you are in a lot of trouble.”
I eye the man who towers over me. He stands at a good 6’3” with a lean, muscular body. Though he dons a black suit with a crisp, white, button-up shirt and cufflinks, his look is edgy with spiked blonde hair, piercings, and a large tattoo on his neck that you can see poking out above his collar. He doesn’t look like the kind of guy who would just let me get away with stealing from him. It is his glacier, ice cold, blue eyes that send the very clear message that he isn’t a man to be fucked with. Unfortunately for me, it’s too late; I’ve already crossed him. His shoes are black Italian leather, shined to a high gloss, and at this moment, one of them is right near my face. I had been lying on my stomach with my shoes off and my legs leisurely crossed at the ankle, reading a book, so I never even noticed him until I saw that high gloss dress shoe.
He nudges me with his toe, bringing me out of my daydream and says, “Listen to me, girl. I’m talking to you.”
“Hey!” I spit hiss, as if I’m a snake he has intruded upon. Who does this guy think he is anyway? It isn’t like he has proof I have stolen anything from him… yet.
With no warning at all, he reaches down, viciously pulling a handful of my hair, and raises me to my feet. I am within inches of his face when he glares into my eyes. The intensity of his stare causes me to immediately drop my gaze. This guy isn’t even concerned that someone will see him manhandling me and that sets off warning alarms in my head. Any normal person would worry about being seen, despite the apparent privacy of my chosen reading spot. I’m definitely wishing I had opted to enjoy my lunch in a much more public area now.
“The first thing you are going to do is give me back my diary.”
“I don’t have it,” I lie.
“Liar! So we have a liar and a thief in our midst, do we?”
“I don’t have it,” I once again state.
“Lying little bitch, you have no idea who you are fucking with but you are getting ready to find out. You are way out of your league, little girl.”
Though I’m offended he just called me a bitch, now probably isn’t a good time to deal with it. This guy is pissed and I have no intention of confessing to anything. Little do I know, the words he speaks are very true. He is a dangerous killer for hire. I will find out very soon that this man takes menace to a whole different level.
“Hey, buddy, you can’t just manhandle me like this.”
He takes his other hand and begins squeezing my neck, “I can’t?” he innocently asks, as he continues to apply pressure around my throat. It is evident by the look on his face that he is enjoying himself immensely.
“Okay,” I eke out.
He shakes his head at me, “Okay what?”
“I’ll give you your fucking diary,” I gasp.
He grits his teeth, squeezing harder, “You would do well not to curse at me, little girl.”
Even though he is scaring me, he is also pissing me off.
All I remember thinking is, I should kick him!
The next thing that I know, he is doubled over and screaming, “You bitch!”
I run through the park area where I had gone to eat lunch and burst through the doors of the high rise building where I work—shoeless. I don’t care… I’ll go back for them later. I’m really going to be pissed if someone steals my designer shoes that I had to leave behind because of that jerk.
The security guard eyes me, “Are you alright, Katrina?” He is looking down at my pantyhose covered feet suspiciously. Once a cop, always a cop, even if he is just a security guard now.
“Yes, I just thought I was running late,”
Katrina
“You are in a lot of trouble, little girl! You and I both know that you stole that diary and used it to write that book. Now granted, I am a reasonable man and if you had the common courtesy to ask me before you penned my life story, then we could have worked something out. As it stands, well, to put it mildly, you are in a lot of trouble.”
I eye the man who towers over me. He stands at a good 6’3” with a lean, muscular body. Though he dons a black suit with a crisp, white, button-up shirt and cufflinks, his look is edgy with spiked blonde hair, piercings, and a large tattoo on his neck that you can see poking out above his collar. He doesn’t look like the kind of guy who would just let me get away with stealing from him. It is his glacier, ice cold, blue eyes that send the very clear message that he isn’t a man to be fucked with. Unfortunately for me, it’s too late; I’ve already crossed him. His shoes are black Italian leather, shined to a high gloss, and at this moment, one of them is right near my face. I had been lying on my stomach with my shoes off and my legs leisurely crossed at the ankle, reading a book, so I never even noticed him until I saw that high gloss dress shoe.
He nudges me with his toe, bringing me out of my daydream and says, “Listen to me, girl. I’m talking to you.”
“Hey!” I spit hiss, as if I’m a snake he has intruded upon. Who does this guy think he is anyway? It isn’t like he has proof I have stolen anything from him… yet.
With no warning at all, he reaches down, viciously pulling a handful of my hair, and raises me to my feet. I am within inches of his face when he glares into my eyes. The intensity of his stare causes me to immediately drop my gaze. This guy isn’t even concerned that someone will see him manhandling me and that sets off warning alarms in my head. Any normal person would worry about being seen, despite the apparent privacy of my chosen reading spot. I’m definitely wishing I had opted to enjoy my lunch in a much more public area now.
“The first thing you are going to do is give me back my diary.”
“I don’t have it,” I lie.
“Liar! So we have a liar and a thief in our midst, do we?”
“I don’t have it,” I once again state.
“Lying little bitch, you have no idea who you are fucking with but you are getting ready to find out. You are way out of your league, little girl.”
Though I’m offended he just called me a bitch, now probably isn’t a good time to deal with it. This guy is pissed and I have no intention of confessing to anything. Little do I know, the words he speaks are very true. He is a dangerous killer for hire. I will find out very soon that this man takes menace to a whole different level.
“Hey, buddy, you can’t just manhandle me like this.”
He takes his other hand and begins squeezing my neck, “I can’t?” he innocently asks, as he continues to apply pressure around my throat. It is evident by the look on his face that he is enjoying himself immensely.
“Okay,” I eke out.
He shakes his head at me, “Okay what?”
“I’ll give you your fucking diary,” I gasp.
He grits his teeth, squeezing harder, “You would do well not to curse at me, little girl.”
Even though he is scaring me, he is also pissing me off.
All I remember thinking is, I should kick him!
The next thing that I know, he is doubled over and screaming, “You bitch!”
I run through the park area where I had gone to eat lunch and burst through the doors of the high rise building where I work—shoeless. I don’t care… I’ll go back for them later. I’m really going to be pissed if someone steals my designer shoes that I had to leave behind because of that jerk.
The security guard eyes me, “Are you alright, Katrina?” He is looking down at my pantyhose covered feet suspiciously. Once a cop, always a cop, even if he is just a security guard now.
“Yes, I just thought I was running late,”
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