Freed (Bad Boy Hitman Romance)
Read Freed (Bad Boy Hitman Romance) Online
Authors: Terry Towers,Stella Noir
Description:
They gave me one job: get the information out of the girl--by whatever means necessary. It should have been easy. She’s a 20-year-old preacher’s daughter. Piece of cake.
Big mistake.
Rebecca is as hard and wounded as I am. She challenges me in every way.
I’m fascinated by her.
Even worse, she’s making me feel something. It isn’t head-over-heels, love-at-first-sight sh*t. And men like me don’t change that easily for some chick. But she has me wondering...
Should I finish the job, and possibly kill the woman who dares to make me care?
Or should I spare her life and put my balls on the line to save her?
The BONUS novel included is Faith, the story which this novel is spun off of.
Table of Contents
(Romantic Suspense)
Description:
They gave me one job: get the information out of the girl--by whatever means necessary. It should have been easy. She’s a 20-year-old preacher’s daughter. Piece of cake.
Big mistake.
Rebecca is as hard and wounded as I am. She challenges me in every way.
I’m fascinated by her.
Even worse, she’s making me feel something. It isn’t head-over-heels, love-at-first-sight sh*t. And men like me don’t change that easily for some chick. But she has me wondering...
Should I finish the job, and possibly kill the woman who dares to make me care?
Or should I spare her life and put my balls on the line to save her?
Bonus Novel
(A Dark Romance)
Description:
Emily
I had no idea the wickedness that lay beneath his angelic features and pleasurable touch.
I wanted one night out to be wild and crazy; to be like all the other young women my age. I’d been living such a sheltered life that when a new group of friends took me to a nightclub for some drinks and dancing – nothing overly rebellious, considering – I jumped at the chance.
And you can imagine my surprise when the sexiest man at the club, heck, the sexiest man I’d ever set eyes upon wanted to spend some alone time getting to know the plain Jane daughter of a pastor! I jumped at the chance. Most of the other young women regularly left with men they’d just met and nothing bad ever happened, so what were the chances it would turn out badly for me?
I had no idea…
Tanner
I had no idea she’d challenge everything I believed about myself and make me feel.
My job is simple – train them and break their spirits without shattering their minds, which isn’t the easiest task, I assure you. But I’m the best at what I do.
But now The Organization I previously worked for is gone and I’m a freelancer – of sorts. And I couldn’t be happier. I used to have to abide by their rules, follow their protocol, but not anymore. The lives and minds of the women are mine to do with as I please.
Unfortunately for Emily Fennel, the daughter of a small-town pastor, she’d caught my attention. She was so pure and virtuous, she’s the light in contrast to my darkness and she’s going to be my greatest accomplishment.
People thought I was a monster before…
** Please note, Faith is an EXTREMELY dark romance and not for everyone.**
Excerpt From
(A Dark Romance)
Description:
Gwen
When I close my eyes and manage to block out the horrors going on around me and ignore the aches and pain in virtually every inch of my body, I can still hear the cheers of the audience as I'm lifted into the air by my teammates. For those few brief moments as I remember toppling from the top of the pyramid I feel like I'm flying, I'm free and nothing can hurt me.
But, I was wrong...
How long would it take before they stopped missing me; stopped looking; before I was forgotten about completely? A month? Six months? A year? I'm no longer a person. I'm a commodity.
Lance
I have a plan, years in the making. It's perfect - foolproof. All I need is to keep myself focused on the big picture - my ultimate goal. But then she arrived...
She tests my patience and my will. She angers and frustrates me, making the darkness within scream to be released. I want to ignore her, but I can't. I need to let her go, but can't seem to allow her to be sent away.
She's going to ruin everything...
FREED
Copyright 2016 by Terry Towers & Stella Noir
Cover by: Kasmit Covers
http://www.kasmitcovers.com/
All rights reserved. With the exception of brief quotes used for critical reviews and articles no part of this book may be used or reproduced without the written permission of the author Terry Towers. Saint John, New Brunswick, Canada. Terry Towers can be contacted via her website at www.elixaeverett.com
Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via internet or other means, electronic or print without the authors permission. Criminal copyright infringement without monetary gain is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov.ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors imagination and used fictitiously.
The material in this book is intended for ages 18+ it may contain adult subject matter including explicit sexual content, profanity, drug use and violence
.
Freed
By
Terry Towers
&
Stella Noir
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erry's new releases and upcoming special and promotions, please sign up for her newsletter. Rest assured we will not spam your inbox.
Prologue
PRESENT
Rebecca
Where the fuck am I?
That was my first thought as I slowly began to regain consciousness.
What happened?
My mind was hazy, like when you’re not quite asleep, but not fully awake either. That’s how I felt. And what was with the weird taste in my mouth? My tongue felt slightly numb, and my throat was super dry. Slowly, I opened my eyes, but all I could see was darkness.
What the fuck!
Blindfolded. I was blindfolded.
How in the hell did I get blindfolded?
I attempted to bring my hands up to my eyes only to realize that they had been handcuffed behind my back. The cold metal dug into my wrists, and chains rattled when I attempted to move my hands. Suddenly, the hard surface at my back moved, tossing me from my back to my side.
“Ouch! Dammit!” My head flopped forward, and my forehead slammed against a cold, hard surface. And it smelled in here – like rubber and grease.
I groaned and rolled back onto my back. Taking a deep breath in, I slowly released it and concentrated on the sounds around me. It didn’t take me long to realize that I was in a vehicle. The trunk of a vehicle by the feel of it.
But how did I get here? My brow creased as I attempted to force myself to remember. It hurt to think. I cursed myself for not being able to recall. I was better than this. My father had gone to great pains to ensure I wasn’t ‘soft,’ before he was murdered, robbed and shot - or so they say - but I knew better. He used to say that I was created from his mold. I took that as a compliment. But here I was, apparently locked in a trunk, having no idea how I got here.
Anger surged through me. Whoever put me in here was going to pay dearly. I may have been the twenty-year-old daughter of a preacher who was lucky to weigh 125 pounds, but I was hardly an easy mark. Whoever took me had best be ready to bring his A game.
With anger fuelling my strength, I pulled my knees up to my chest and kicked at the lid of the trunk. It buckled but didn’t give way. “Let me out of here!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, giving the trunk another powerful two-footed kick. I struck at it over and over until my legs were sore and my throat burned from my screams. I gave one final kick of frustration before giving up. As much as I wanted to keep screaming and kicking, I knew I needed my energy. I had no idea how many people would be waiting when the trunk got popped.
“Rational. I need to be rational,” I told myself out loud. I knew the types of people who existed in this world – cold, hard, merciless people. People who enjoyed causing pain just for the sake of it. My father ensured that I’d been fully schooled in the darkness that surrounded us every day.
Think. Think. Think. How did I get into this mess?
Why was my brain so fuzzy? I was finally starting to get some clarity when the car stopped. I was tempted to start kicking and screaming again, but refrained. Instead, I lay motionless, waiting and listening. There were no longer any sounds of traffic. That couldn’t be good.
Footsteps. I heard footsteps walking towards the trunk. Keys in the keyhole and a click. Suddenly a gush of fresh air filled my lungs. Oh, it smelled and felt so nice. I continued to resist the urge to scream and lash out with my feet. It wouldn’t do me any good until I knew what I was up against.
“There’s no use in playing possum. I heard the screams and kicks. I know you’re awake.”
That voice. Ohmygod!
A single word escaped my lips, disbelief in my tone. “Kyle?”
Chapter 1
Two Weeks Ago
Rebecca
“Umm-hmm. I would do him in a heartbeat.”
After pulling my laptop from its case and setting it up, I followed my friend Vanessa’s gaze to see the object of her admiration - a broad-shouldered blonde guy wearing a tight black t-shirt who sat two rows down and to the left. “He’s all right,” I responded with a nonchalant shrug, though in actuality he was more than all right; he was indeed insanely hot. Panty moistening hot in fact.
As if feeling our eyes on him, he turned his head and his icy blue eyes locked onto mine. Normally, men don’t have much of an effect on me. I’m not a lesbian or anything like that. I’m just not the typical young woman who swoons when a hot guy pays me some attention, but in this case just locking gazes caused my breath to hitch in my throat as my heart rate accelerated. He smiled a sweet, sexy smile that created dimples at both of his cheeks. Damn, he was gorgeous.
“Good morning class, I hope you all had a great weekend,” Professor Burke said walking into the classroom. All the chatter going on around me died out as we all directed our attention to our Human Sexuality psychology professor.
“Who is that?” I whispered to Vanessa. “He missed the first week of classes.”
“I don’t know,” Vanessa replied under her breath.
“Have you seen him around campus?”
“Shhh,” came a hiss from a seat behind me before Vanessa could respond.
My head spun around to the source of the sound to see a dark-haired girl glaring at me. My jaw clenched and green eyes narrowed at the girl as I bit back a snappy response. This was neither the time nor place for a confrontation. Forcing myself to calm down, I shot her one last glare before refocusing my attention on the professor.
Throughout the lecture, I periodically felt his eyes on me. But by the time I turned my head to meet his gaze, he’d have turned away. It was like a cat and mouse game that had me frustrated by the time class was over.
“All right class, that’s it for the day. See you tomorrow. I want you all to have read chapter two of your textbook for tomorrow’s class. If you haven’t purchased the book yet, then I would strongly suggest you get on it. Otherwise, you’ll find yourself well over your head in this class.” I didn’t have to worry about being in over my head. I was already on chapter 6. The human mind and behaviour had always fascinated me, and I had an undeniable thirst for knowledge. Knowledge was like my heroin.
I packed my laptop in its case and stood, pretending I wasn’t interested in the new guy even though I watched him out of the corner of my eye. I was tempted to go over to him, but nope, I wouldn’t. If he wanted me and I had a feeling he did, he’d come to me.
“Are you going to say hi?” Vanessa asked as she followed me up the stairs and towards the exit. “He was eyeing you most of the class.”
“Nope.”
“Why not?” She looked over her shoulder at him. He’d gotten up and was now talking to Professor Burke.
I sighed. Vanessa dated a lot, but she didn’t seem to have any clue when it came to the notion of the chase; the deep-seeded need for a man to pursue and win over the female. Not to say a man would turn a woman who approached him down if he was interested, but if he had to work for it, he appreciated the ‘win’ much more.
Vanessa allowed herself to be led by her heart and not her head. It wasn’t smart, at least in my opinion, but it was the way she was. A very small part of me wished I was capable of allowing my heart rule my mind like Vanessa. Then, of course, she’d get her heart broken, and I’d have to listen to her bitch and whine for days, sometimes weeks, over how much she missed the loser that hurt her.
“For one, I have another class to attend in a half hour. Second, if he wants me, he’ll pursue me.” We reached the top of the stairs and exited the room, turning left and heading towards our next class, which was all the way at the other end of the building and up a flight of stairs. It usually took close to 10 minutes to navigate the crowded hallways to get to our second class. We shared the first two classes of the day – Human Sexuality and
Human Neuropsychology.
“He was eyeing you all class.”
“And?”
“Isn’t that enough indication he’s interested? Women are allowed to approach men and ask them out. It’s not the 1950’s, you know.”
“And how has that worked out for you so far?” I asked, looking at her with a brow raised.
“Like you’ve done so much better. At least I date. I have fun. I fall in love…”
“And then you get dumped and wallow in self-pity for days and weeks on end. By the time you’re done grieving over whatever asshole you dated, you’ve gained ten pounds and your self-esteem is in the shitter. Boy, I’m so upset I miss out on that,” I said, my tone dripping with sarcasm.
She huffed, rolling her eyes at me. “That’s what life is all about.”
“Yeah. No thanks.”
“Seriously though, sometimes I worry about you.”
“Me?” My brow creased as I stared at her, genuinely perplexed. Why in the hell would she worry about me?
“Yeah, it’s like you’re scared of getting hurt or something. You don’t allow yourself to fall in love because you’re scared you’ll be disappointed.”
I shook my head and laughed. “That’s not even close to it, Vanessa, and if you think that’s my issue, then you might want to reconsider a degree in psychology.”
“Denial.”
I laughed. “Wrong. So wrong.”
“Then tell me what it is. Set me straight,” she said.
“It’s a matter of seeing things with a rational mind. Does it really make sense to fall head over heels for someone not worth the effort?”
“You’re so full of shit.” She grinned and then shrugged. “It’s not until you get to know them that you realize they’re losers.”
“Exactly.”
“But love is about the ride, the thrill of finding someone new that may or may not be the person you will spend the rest of your life with. Sure, by not opening yourself up, you can keep from getting hurt, but you miss all those emotions that come with exploring a potential new love.”
I rolled my eyes at her. “You know the science that involves love. It’s nothing but hormones and the need to procreate. You know, the three stages-- lust, attraction and attachment.”
“Ohmygod, no wonder you can’t keep a man. You’re the most unromantic female I’ve ever met.”
“I’m a realist. That’s why when I get the urge to feel
loved,
I go out and find myself someone to quench the thirst.”
“One day, you’ll find a man who you’ll want for more than
primal urges
.” Vanessa said. I could hear the mocking in her tone, but that was okay. I’d remind her of this conversation in a few weeks’ time when the asshole she was currently dating broke her heart, and she came running to me to cheer her up. The funny thing was that I was the worst person to go to when you needed to be comforted. Weepy and upset people made me uncomfortable--so uncomfortable that I’d rather have a root canal, minus the freezing, than to be the shoulder to lean on. But for some reason, unbeknownst to me, Vanessa kept coming to me for support. Maybe she was as fucked up as she claimed me to be.
I sighed. “Yeah, we’ll see about that.”
~*~ TT ~*~
“Well, darn. Where’s the book? Was supposed to be right here.” I examined the entire shelf, and the book I needed wasn’t there. The computer said the school library had one in. I was about to head back to the librarian to see if she could track it down when I noticed a two-inch gap between two books.
It’s somewhere in the library. With somebody. Well, double crap.
Most people would come back later and hope for the best. Not me. I wasn’t someone who gave up easily. There was only one thing I could do – find the person who had it. The essay wasn’t due for two weeks, but I preferred to get things out of the way, and I needed that book in particular as a reference. I planned on having it written and passed in by Friday. Walking to the end of the book stack, I planted my hands on my hips and took a moment to formulate a plan.
I’d start with the individual cubicles upstairs and then work my way back downstairs to the group tables. If it was in the library, then by God I’d find it. Once upstairs, I proceeded left down another stack of books. This library was like a giant labyrinth of stack and aisles. As I neared the end, my mobile phone began to buzz in the pocket of my red, fitted, leather jacket. Pulling it out, I looked down at the screen.
MOM
I groaned inwardly. I really didn’t want to talk to her right now. Since my father’s murder a little over four years ago, she’d been a basket case. It was impossible to have a conversation with her without her breaking down in tears, reminiscing on all the good times she had with my father and asking me why God felt he needed my father so soon. How in the hell should I know? Even if I believed in heaven and hell and all that stuff, which I didn’t, I still wouldn’t have a clue.
Dismissing the call, I was in the process of shoving the phone back into my bag when I collided with what felt like a solid wall. I yelped in surprise as I lost my balance, stumbled and began what seemed like a slow motion tumble backwards. Just as I braced myself for the impact of hitting the floor, a pair of strong arms encircled me, and I was pulled up tight against the very thing that caused my near fall.
“You okay?” a deep male voice asked.
“Yeah, fine. Nothing hurt.”
But my pride
, I silently added, looking up to see who it was I collided with and was surprised to see it was the guy from my first class--Kyle, I believe it was. Our gazes locked, my dark eyes on his icy blue ones as I lingered in his arms a moment. Taking a deep breath in, I inhaled the intoxicating scent of his aftershave. It was a woodsy scent with a spicy undertone. It was nice, and it made me want to stay in his arms, but I didn’t. Pushing lightly at his chest, I reluctantly removed myself from his embrace.
“Hey, aren’t you in my Human Sexuality course?” he asked taking a step back, crossed one ankle casually over the other, and leaned against the book stack.
“I’m in that class.”
“Thought so. Listen, since I missed last week, I need to catch up on last week’s notes. Don’t suppose I could bum those off of you?”
I looked down the length of his body and immediately spotted the one thing I’d been seeking, the book I needed for my essay. Chewing at my lower lip, I gave him a smile I reserved for men I was trying to charm and nodded. “Depends.”
He cocked a brow up at me and grinned, dimples appearing at his cheeks. “On what?”
“On whether you’ll give me that book or not. I need it.”
He looked down at the book in his hand as if he’d forgotten he’d even been holding onto it. “Yeah, see, I need the book as well though.”