Motown Showdown by K.S. Adkins Read Free Book Online Page B

figure it out,” says Rome pulling Kandace to him. Just as I was feeling the pull of sleep, I spoke to the room or maybe it was to the butterflies dancing above my face?
    “Anyone comes at either of you, they die, you have my word. My word is gold, ask anyone living.”
    “I believe you,” says Kandace.
    “Pay to see it,” says Rome.
    “They’d have to go through me---” I hear Gage but then, it was lights out and heard no more.
     

This felt wrong.
    The location, the intel… Pilgrim insisting it had to be done immediately. The bastard was greedy for this, hit but why? These jobs weren’t personal, we didn’t do personal.
    For the first time, I hesitated. I watched my mark, gathered my own information. I even asked Pilgrim to send me what he had, which oddly enough, was nothing. He lied to me, telling me the contract was made verbally. We didn’t do verbal.
    In the end? I didn’t do it.
    Thank fuck, I didn’t do it.
    The mark was an eighteen-year-old kid and the son of a hitter. Because I refuse to use the network Camo created, Pilgrim used my ignorance against me and almost succeeded. Had I breached the code, I would have been dead within twenty-four hours. Not true, had Camo found me, I’d be dead within the hour.
     
    After fielding hours’ worth of questions about Camo, I was frustrated when I didn’t know all the answers. Dammit, I should know the answers and I probably would, had I bothered to ask. The woman made it a point to know shit about me. Hell, she knew more about my jobs than I did. Kandace kept looking at me like she got how badly I wanted Camo. If anyone would recognize the look, it was her because it was the same one she reserved for Rome.
    She assured me the shoulder wound was minor and that her stomach wound albeit, a fucking gunshot graze, wasn’t as deep as it could have been either. Basically, she was lucky and for the next week would be operating at fifty percent while she healed.
    I didn’t like her being down .
    When they finally went to bed, I grabbed my laptop sitting down on the floor next to her. Jesus, even from here she smelled good. She didn’t smell innocent because she wasn’t. She smelled real and until this very second, I’d argue there was a smell for that. While I booted up, I turned to look at her, I mean really look at her. Dark brown hair, olive skin with a smattering of freckles along her nose and cheeks and she even had a small mole above her lip. Tiny ears, small hands, a long clean neck and a delicate chin. She was a small woman, almost freakishly small. Moving a strand of hair from her cheek, I roll it between my fingers. Soft, thick and clean.
    She was the killer you didn’t see coming, the reason I’m alive and my greatest weakness.
    Mine .
    Shifting her slight weight, I watch her wince and wanted to kill the motherfucker responsible for this. Was Pilgrim acting alone? Did teams form? How long until the next attack? I needed more information, and I knew there had to be chatter on the wire. Only when I logged in, my screen started to fill with some animated bullshit with minions. Taken over with a virus then. Pilgrim you piece of shit. So yeah, this shit was real.
    Shutting the top and tossing it across the floor, I lean back against the couch and seconds later her tiny arm was resting on my big shoulder. “We’re at war,” she says quietly.
    “Yeah,” I reply.
    “It’s us against them now, Gadget.”
    “Gage,” I tell her quietly. “Call me Gage.”
    “Don’t call me Pepper,” she orders. “I don’t know her anymore.”
    “Fine.”
    “Gage?” she asks running her finger down my neck and fuck did that feel nice. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
    “And you think I’d let something happen to you?”
    “No,” she says quickly reading my anger. “I don’t but, I’m just saying that---”
    Turning to face her, I was still startled by her beauty once again. Like deer in the God damn headlights startled, it was too fucking