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Authors: Olivia Linden,LeTeisha Newton

SCRATCH (Corporate Hitman Book 2) (13 page)

BOOK: SCRATCH (Corporate Hitman Book 2)
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Chapter 21

 

 

Jack

 

Jack took a
deep breath, sitting alone in the quiet of his apartment. Scratch was gone, along with Araceli and Monica. The plan was in motion, and Jack had never been angrier. It took everything inside of him, deep beneath the cold, to stop him from going after Eagle’s head right that moment. Instead, he waited for the call he knew would be coming. He’d told Glitch to stay ghost for a while from the apartment. Easiest thing had been taking care of a little mission that Eagle had wanted Jack to clear up. Disposing of bodies wasn’t the neatest job, but it took him away for a few days while he froze the remains and then made sure they’d never be found.

 

Glitch had decided to tag along for the ride. It hadn’t been a job the hacker would volunteer for under normal circumstances, but Jack hadn’t been adverse to the company. He was always thinking about the next move. Remembering the plans he’s laid, and the escape routes that accompanied them. By now, if everything had gone right, Scratch and the women should at least be to Ireland. It was taking the long way around, but the more convoluted their destination became, the harder it was to track. Jack had needed the distraction of the mission to not wonder where Scratch was, and Glitch...well Glitch was taking it harder.

 

The wretched job gave them both something to hate Eagle even more.

 

Now the few days that Eagle had given Scratch to take off were up, and Scratch hadn’t shown up to work today. Jack stood slowly, his body aching and tired. He was pushing himself too hard, but he couldn’t stop now. He still remembered that Scratch needed him to do one last mission. One last job before he left this hellhole of a life behind: find and save his half-sister Pristine. Whatever Scratch needed, Jack would do.

 

He grabbed the blood packs from his store unit, where they’d been warming to room temperature, and picked up Scratch’s extracted molar as he left his apartment. Silent and moving quickly, he donned footies and gloves before entering Scratch’s apartment. He ignored the lost smell of his best friend’s cologne and the ready beer that always came his way. He didn’t think about where Scratch was on his journey. No, that all took emotions he didn’t need to deal with right now. What he needed was that cold feeling so he could do his job. He took out bag of blood and punctured the top. He walked around, in a path he’d think Scratch would have taken against attackers coming into his house, and let blood drip on the floor. He took a second pack, and poked holes in the top. Then he turned it away from him and punched it, near specific walls along the way.

 

Most people didn’t get away with crimes because they didn’t think about the evidence. That blood dripped into little circular pools when it slid down the hand or body. That high velocity splatter on the walls or ceiling meant impact, and smeared blood, at directed angles implied movement. Even if Eagle never sent anyone other than Jack back into this room to check over it, Jack would be sure that it was believable that Scratch had fought not to be captured, and lost. Jack took the molar from its little baggie and got down on the kitchen floor, eye level with the bottom of the stove. Then he tossed the tooth, at an angle at the floor, so it found a natural landing place under it. That done he added a few more blood splatters and drips. Then he went for the final item, tucked deep in the back of Scratch’s room, and placed it as well. He took his time before calling Glitch.

 

“It’s done,” he said when Glitch answered.

 

“What do you need me to do?” Glitch asked, quietly.

 

“Destroy any camera footage or twist it from two nights ago. Then wipe it, make the other footage look like the whole floor was vacant, but normal. Check the days leading up to it, just in case. We want Eagle thinking that night’s footage has been compromised by an extraction team.”

 

“I’m on it.” Glitch paused for a moment and Jack resisted the urge to hang up. He wasn’t used to dealing with Glitch directly as often. Scratch had always been a buffer, the glue that brought them together.

 

“He’ll be fine,” was all Glitch said. Jack nodded, knowing Glitch couldn’t see him, but not able to say anything.

 

“I’ll pull the footage, and make a trail. We need to make it look good that Scratch may have been picked up by the Russians.”

 

“Could work in our favor,” Jack said then.

 

“Why is that?”

 

“Because I’m going to fuck with them when I get the girl. They won’t like it. And Eagle is going to put us on their tail to get Scratch back,” Jack explained. Glitch chuckled over the phone, a sound that was both angry and amused.

 

“He’ll deserve it,” Glitch said darkly and Jack silently agreed. Eagle deserved whatever they’d bring down on his head. Jack would ensure that it would be as bad as it could get.

 

“We’re on,” Jack said, when his phone beeped. The private number didn’t fool Jack. Three people had his number.

 

“I’m gone,” Glitch said and hung up. Jack took a breath as he clicked over.

 

“Mission,” he said, his normal way of answering when Eagle called.

 

“Where is Scratch?” Eagle hissed on the line.

 

“And I should know because?” Jack asked, forcing his normal boredom into his voice. He wasn’t the one that Eagle expected to make nice.

 

“Don’t play with me,” Eagle returned.

 

“The last I knew he was home. I’ve been...busy,” Jack replied, reminding Eagle of where he’d recently been with the agent body disposal.

 

“Yes, I suppose you have,” Eagle said calmly over the phone. “Check his apartment,” Eagle ordered. Jack counted to one hundred as he moved through Scratch’s home to mimic the act of him heading out his apartment.

 

“Gae saeki,” Jack swore into the phone at the right moment.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“We have a problem,” Jack responded. “Standby, and I’ll send you footage.”

 

Jack hung up before Eagle could say anything else and started snapping pictures of the room. He took his time, like he always did, gathering every bit of evidence. Then he snapped a picture of the piece that would get the ball rolling. It was a ring, one that Scratch had from his old days with the family that he never took out of his room. One that Jack had placed, very carefully, in the center of a blood pool near the disaster of a bathroom. He then lifted the ring and took another picture of it in his hands. He waited until the photos were sent and then he called Eagle back.

 

“What the fuck is going on?” Eagle exploded on the phone. Jack didn’t think he’d ever heard the man sound so angry, or thrown off his game. That could help them.

 

“It seems someone paid Scratch a visit,” Jack said quietly, letting some of the frigid anger lace his voice. He didn’t have to disguise his hatred of the man who was supposed to have saved them.

 

“Who would have known where to find him?” Eagle asked, not really expecting an answer.

 

“FBI has been in our business lately, looking into Scratch,” Jack hedged. You didn’t force a powerful man to see what you wanted him to. You coerced him until he felt like it was his idea. It stuck better that way.

 

“We cleaned that up,” Eagle said thoughtfully then.

 

“Anyone else make contact?” Jack asked.

 

“No one. But pulling his name may have been enough,” Eagle added.

 

“Whoever it is, wherever they are, I’m going to find them, and I’m going to kill them,” Jack promised on the line. Eagle was quiet for a moment before he laughed.

 

“I believe you, and that’s why I’m going to pull you and Glitch for a while. We need Scratch back in the loop. I want him, dead or alive, I don’t give a shit which, but he comes back. There is no other mission until you get him back. And I want to know exactly how he got on their radar. What does the ring tell you?”

 

Dead or alive? That’s all that mattered. Cleaning up that filthy fuck’s messes, because that’s all they were worth. How stupid he must think they are, that he didn’t even give a shit to choose his words wisely.

 

“Scratch had a similar one, from his time with his family,” Jack hedged. Eagle swore into the line before his voice, cold as steel, came back on the line.

 

“If it’s them, he may already be dead. But I’m going to want them to pay. And I’m going to know what the fuck they wanted from him. But keep your eyes open, we can’t assume it’s them just yet.” Jack wisely didn’t answer either way.

 

“Am I unlocked?” Jack asked instead. Always, when he’d gone on mission, Eagle expected that he do his dirtiest of on command, and usually with him as the audience. Unlocked would allow Jack to make decisions and move as he saw fit. It would also have Eagle asking fewer questions. Jack needed Eagle to believe that Jack wanted to get Scratch back at all costs.

 

“For this? Yes. It seems I’ve had you on the leash too long if anyone thinks they can come at me. Destroy anything in your way, and I’ll clean up the fallout later. But Jack?” Eagle said.

 

“Yes?”

 

“You fuck this up and it’ll be you that I’ll clean up. Keep this quiet and get him back. Whoever’s taken him, cripple them until they can’t possibly recover. Do I make myself clear?”

 

“Perfectly,” Jack hissed and then hung up. Oh, he’d make sure he destroyed everything. He’d make sure that Eagle would never recover. And when the end came, and they all were safe, maybe, for the first time in a long time, Jack could keep the abyss at bay. Until then, he was going to swim in it.

 

The end was close, and Eagle was going to get what he deserved.

SNEAK PEEK INTO JACK (Corporate Hitman Vol. 3)

 

Cold sweat, ringing
in his ears, and racing heart. It was always the same when his mind released him from the prison of his soul. Call them nightmares or night terrors, but Jack felt like it was the next best thing to a trip to hell. The screams and tortured cries of his victims blended with his own screams of agony that night he went home to find his family slaughtered.  He hadn’t witnessed the brutality, but his mind had no trouble filling in the blanks to show him just how they’d suffered their last breaths. The visions of blood splatter and severed necks and the cold lifeless gaze of terror widened eyes painted a gruesome picture.

 

He pulled the damp sheet away from his clammy skin. Resisting the urge to buck against the pain and curl into the fetal position, one arm reached up to ease the tension at the base of his neck while the other wiped away the wetness from his eyes. Whether it was from tears or sweat didn’t matter, he blinked away the residual moisture as he forced his eyes to focus on the dark room around him. The sooner he adjusted to the here and now, the sooner he could push the darkness away.

 

The events of the previous few days had left him on edge and restless. Getting more than four hours of sleep was irregular to his pattern. He was up most mornings by 4:00 am, due to the dreams, so it being a Saturday meant nothing. Sleep was a luxury that he hadn’t been able to afford since he lost his family. Four hours was enough to rejuvenate him. Six if his work caused him to exert more energy from his body than normal. The digital 4:05 that flashed back at him proved that he was on schedule.

 

His mind began racing with various plans and strategies, and he was anxious to set them all into play. Grasping the cherry oak frame of his platform bed, he slid onto the floor and into his meditation pose. He focused on centering himself. Laying flat on his back, he stretched his arms back above his head towards his bedroom wall, and extended his feet as far as they could go until his toes were pointed at the opposite wall. One hundred deep breaths later and he was ready to start his morning workout routine. Along with working out at the gym five days a week, he did a daily calisthenics cycle that consisted of five sets of twenty jumping jacks, crunches, lunges, pushups and squats. For starters.

 

After that, he pushed his body further until the burn became a comfort. It took much longer and much more effort for his well conditioned muscles, but it was what he needed to clear his mind. That was how he handled the constant pain and rage that festered in his soul. Exercise wasn’t his only outlet, but it was the safest.

 

Standing, he rolled the kinks out of his shoulder and reached for the thirty pound dumbbell that rested on a metal rack in front of the floor the ceiling mirror that covered an entire wall of his bedroom. His toes flexed against the hardwood floor as he began his reps. Staring at his reflection he searched his eyes, still not finding the answer he was seeking. Was he a monster? Nothing more than a well behaved animal? Was his soul still in there behind the dark black orbs, or was he as damned and evil as the men who destroyed him?

He received the same answer as always. None.

 

 

 

 

Thank you for reading SCRATCH (Corporate Hitman Vol.2). We hope you enjoyed the first part of the Hitman story, and if you did it would be awesome to hear from you! Stop by
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ABOUT THE AUTHORS

 

OLIVIA LINDEN              

 

Olivia Linden, a native New Yorker, was raised between Queens and San Antonio, TX. Currently living in Florida with her tween-aged son, she decided it was time to follow her dreams of becoming a full time author. Her creative itch began when her elementary school principal posted one of her stories in the halls of her school. She was just seven at the time, but old enough to understand how integral writing would be to her future. From that moment on, reading and writing became her two greatest passions.
It is her philosophy that laughter is essential to making it through even the toughest situations.

Find your passion with Olivia Linden.


Vialinden.com

Olivia Linden on Facebook

Follow me on twitter: @mslissa2u

Sign up for my Newsletter

 

 

 

 

 

LETEISH NEWTON

LeTeisha Newton is the author of a plethora of novels ranging from hot Interracial Erotica, Paranormal biters, Fantasy, and Urban Fantasy genres. She’s known for her extensive knowledge of shifter cultures, even outside of the generic werewolves and vampires, crazy world-building, and making shape shifters feel like they are living right next door. That has led to her being dubbed the Shifter Queen. Some of her series include the best-selling Claimed and Taken Series.

 

Website - http://leteishanewton.com

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TAKE A SNEAK PEEK AT THESE NEW ROMANTIC SUSPENSE RELEASES!

 

Deeper (The Deeper Chronicles Book 1) by allyn lesley

 

SUMMARY

Everything Avianna Linton thought she knew was shattered in one traffic stop. With her life turned upside down, she flees to the bright lights of New York City hoping for anonymity and a new life.

 

Rising from nothing, Noah Adams holds onto his power and control with a bone-crushing grip. No one dared challenge his authority until her...

 

Avi’s disdain for Noah is barely contained, and Noah does everything he can to restrain himself—a concept he has little experience with.

 

There’s more between the two than either of them realize. A force looms near, hovering with deadly precision and motivated solely by revenge.

 

Avi wonders who her new friends truly are and if she’s already in too deep. Noah, accustomed to getting what he wants, will do whatever it takes to draw Avi's in deeper.

 

Deeper is an interracial romantic suspense novel by new author allyn lesley.

Excerpt

© allyn lesley 2015

Noah shoved his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t touch her without permission. “What’s your name?”

She straightened her posture, meeting his stare while folding her arms over her chest. “What’s yours?”  

Noah laughed out loud.

Well look at this. She has the balls to question me to my face?

He stepped closer to the woman who piqued his interest. “I like that you don’t scare easily. But I asked you first.”

Damn, she’s short. Her head just reached his shoulder. His gaze lowered to her open-toe gold shoes that showed off the cutest digits he’d ever seen. He appreciated that even in heels he towered over her. Her glare greeted him when he returned his attention back to her face.

“And I asked you second,” she countered with a hand on her hip. “We could play this all night, Mister.”

Noah’s gaze deliberately dropped from her tasty-looking lips down to her green dress with the cutout that flirted with her thick thighs. Noah slowly retraced his path up her body and conveyed his intent.

Oh yeah, I’m so fucking you tonight.

By the time their eyes connected again, Noah’s grin had split his face, revealing a set of deep dimples and gleaming white teeth. She failed miserably at making her small smile into a scowl. His grin disappeared when she took a step backward.

“Noah Adams.” The name you’ll be screaming later. He stretched his right hand out, hoping she’d be polite enough to shake. The feel of her hand would have to hold him until he got to the rest in his bed later.

 

Release Date                     January 26, 2015

  

SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS

Blog -- allynlesley.blogspot.com

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YouTube trailer --
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BIOGRAPHY

allyn lesley writes real stories about real people.

 

As a teen, allyn lost herself in the pages of some of Romance’s heavyweights, trusting that a happy ever after was just around the corner. In allyn’s own writing journey, as in life, she’s learned that people don’t always experience recovery and restoration after a fall. Her stories speak to the gritty side of life where the right choice isn't always easily identified and happiness not quickly gained.

 

Survival (Twisted #1) by Rebecca Sherwin

Available on Amazon now. Revival (Twisted #2) released January 16th, 2015

 

With intertwining memories and a world of deceit and betrayal yet to be exposed, Survival, book #1 in the Twisted series, is an intense, compelling page-turner, seen through the eyes of Skye 'the Skillet' Jones.

 

A mother. A father. Two daughters and a son. A happy suburban family of five.

Tick-tock, tick-tock.

An alcoholic mother. An absent father.

Abandonment. A family ripped apart.

Tick-tock, tick-tock.

Oliver. Beautiful Oliver. My twin brother, my protector.

Fighting. Freedom. Death.

Tick-tock, Tick-tock

Cut Throat Curtis. My fire and ice. My light and shade. My pleasure and pain.

He taught me to fight; to control emotional turmoil with physical distraction. He had pain of his own, secrets he would never reveal, and I should have known it would only be a matter of time until he left, becoming a ghost in a life I no longer knew.

Tick-tock, Tick-tock.

Thomas. My magic. My fairy-tale. The man who promised the happy ever after I’d never dared to dream of. My prince. My lover. My everything and more.

Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

But fate was waiting, as always. The merciless force of kismet watched over me, biding its time, waiting to strike; to plunge me into the depths of defeat and leave me with no choice but to succumb.

It was coming, the twist of fate that would bring me to my knees. It was up to me, Skye the Skillet, to decide whether to bow down and surrender to its will, or fight back, to fight for what I had left.

To fight for my survival…

 

Excerpt

© Rebecca Sherwin, 2014

 

“That dress makes your tits look incredible.”

Thomas curled his arm over my shoulders, taking one of my breasts, sheathed in midnight blue, in his hand.

“Yeah, well, those trousers are too tight. I could see your cock twitching for me all night.”

“Mmm,” he groaned, moving his arm and slipping both hands into his pockets. “It’s been twitching for you for thirty six hours.”

That was how long it had been. Sometimes we would only last an hour without each other. Sometimes we’d go at it all night, multiples times, until I was so exhausted I only just made it to work the next day. And sometimes we would go for days with nothing but a teasing touch and a goading glare. It was what we enjoyed most. The anticipation. Building the need until it was on such a base level we couldn’t stop for hours. It had been thirty-six since he was last inside me. The only contact we’d had was chaste kissing, an ass grab on his part and a crotch stroke on mine. I ached for him; I would have torn my clothes off and rode him on the back seat if it weren’t for the game. We played it every time we went out.

Thomas pulled his closed fists from his pockets and presented them to me.

“If you get it, you go. If you don’t, I go,” he licked his lips and I knew he had a wicked plan. “Pick a fist.”

BOOK: SCRATCH (Corporate Hitman Book 2)
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