Page 4 of Wraith (Deviant Assassin #1)

Wild

I ignore the intricate tapestry of tattoos covering my forearms—holding them aloft and to the side, palms out in surrender as I keep my gaze steady on the angry psychopath before me.

I’m fond of the rebellious ink. A symbol not just of my deep cover, but of my days before becoming a Hell Hound.

Rain slashes down from the dark sky, the knees of my jeans becoming soaked as I kneel on the wet, cold ground.

The scent of freshly wet earth, oil and rotting trash envelops us like the darkness of the night.

One half of my long hair hangs in my face, blond strands forming a pathway for water droplets to sting my eyes.

The other side stays tucked behind my ear.

A flickering light in the back alley of a seedy bar penetrates the gloom to highlight the face of my murderer.

The roar of motorcycle engines echoes ominously, the air thick with tension and cloying exhaust fumes.

Something was off the moment I arrived at the bar tonight, so I alerted Colton I might need backup.

I never ignore my instincts. But apparently Colton can ignore a text.

The fucker is taking his sweet time getting here, though. And now, my time is ending.

A group of burly men clad in leather jackets adorned with their club insignia and the words ‘Hell Hounds’ surround me, guns pointed at my face.

“I fuckin’ told you, Hades, I don’t suffer fools lightly. You’ve got to be the biggest fool I’ve met in a long time,” Cerberus says as he bends down in front of me, grabbing my hair, yanking my head back to expose my neck.

Who the fuck gave me up?

“Man, I already told you, whoever has you thinking I’m a fucking pig, pulled one over on you. I’m not your problem here.”

I stare directly into his shit brown eyes. My mouth dry, I try to swallow but my throat just clicks, and I breathe deeply to hold down the bile rising from my burning stomach.

“Yeah,” he drawls real slow, his hulking form crowding my space, his nicotine and beer breath making my lip curl. You see, my first instinct was to kill the fucker. And I was thinkin’ no way my man Hades would be stupid enough to play fuckin’ games with me.”

He leans his face close to mine, then spits his tobacco chew laced saliva in my face, the phlegm sliding down the side of my nose to drip off my chin with the rain.

Jaw clenched at the predicament I’m in, my mind splits in a million different ways, trying to figure a way out of this. Having no clue who blew my cover or even what the hell they told Mamba complicates things, but I’m not dying tonight.

“And you’re right. I’d never fuck with you, Cerberus.

Hell, man, I’ve saved your life twice. Took a bullet for you and grew your coffers by almost fifty percent.

I’ve been loyal, truthful and a damn good friend.

You cracked me in the back of the head with the butt of your gun, dragged me out here in the cold fucking dead of night while I was in the middle of teaching that ‘sweet butt’ a lesson up against the pool table.

Now you have your guns in my fucking face.

Despite all that, I’m still showing you the respect you earned from me.

I’ve never given you a reason to question me, but now, you’re about to piss me off with this bullshit,” I grunt out the last between clenched teeth.

He yanks my head further back. His crew moves closer, surrounding us in a semi-circle. I glance at each of them, searching for even one person who may be on my side, who may believe me, to no avail.

“Bullshit?” he laughs, and the men join in as he looks around their faces.

Adder, my riding partner, shakes his head at me.

The scar cut from the corner of his mouth to his ear distorts his macabre smile.

“What you don’t seem to understand is, the proof is airtight.

I have pictures. Of you. Video of you talking to suits of how you were supposed to use me to get to the top dogs. ”

I shake my head, coughing on the bile I just can’t seem to keep down.

“Deep fakes, man. Come on, you’re smarter than that.

Tell me who’s feeding you false information, and I’ll make damn sure they pay for fucking with Hell Hounds.

” He squints an eye, something he does when he’s thinking.

My hopes rise, I can change his mind. “Someone’s playing you for a fool, Cerberus.

I have a meeting with Javier. The Mexican Mafia will give us a much better price on the powder.

I’m about to save us a cool million over the next year.

” He cocks his head to the side and bites his lower lip in contemplation.

Cerberus’ smarter than he looks, had to be to get this far in the MC.

He also loves money, and working with Javier’s people will make him ridiculously wealthy.

It will also put us in a position to take out a major drug trade route into America.

“Do you really want to miss out on that deal? I’m the only one they’ll talk to. ”

“Here’s the problem, Special Agent Bennett Wilder…

” I don’t react to the fact he knows my name and title.

“I know every damn thing about you and your FBI assignment. I even know how precious your sweet little ol’ granny is to you.

And you can be damn sure the boys and I will pay her a visit once we finish you. ”

The crew laughs and the sick fuck, Barker, steps forward.

“Hades, I’m gonna pound that granny’s ass while she begs for more, then shove my gigantic shit covered cock in her mouth, slam my gun against her forehead, and blow her ass away while I come down her throat.”

I bite the inside of my cheek to hold back a choked laugh.

My ‘ little ol’ granny’ —a description I would never dare use for her—would shove one of her many guns up this fool’s ass and blow his fucking head off before he found his miniscule dick in his pants.

Not that he has a snowball’s chance in hell of making it through her bodyguards.

Their laughter grows, turning into a roar. Not just with the thought of killing me and my grandmother, but also because Barker’s twenty-five-year-old ass prefers octogenarians.

“Well, bud, I wish you all the luck with that. Like Cerberus, she doesn’t suffer fools lightly,” I say, throwing Cerberus’ words at Barker.

Cerberus jerks his head at Barker, who steps back. “Enough of this shit.” He looks at Cobra. “Finish this fucker off. The rest of you load up. We have an old lady to kill.”

My heart pounds in my chest, but I remain outwardly calm. I hang my head and drop my arms to my sides. My hand subtly moves to the concealed firearm tucked into my boot.

It’s now or never, Wild.

In one smooth movement, I pull the gun out with one hand while reaching around Cerberus’ waist and spinning his upper body around. My gun lands against his temple, and a cruel smile plays over my lips.

“I don’t think so, boys,” I spit out.

The rain pounds harder against the pavement.

The sound is deafening, drowning out any other noise.

It echoes off the alley walls, creating a symphony of pattering and splashing.

We all freeze, sizing one another up. The assholes so willing to kill me a moment ago are now looking for angles to save their leader.

A black van barrels into the alley, its headlights cutting through the darkness, shattering the moment, dividing the crew’s attention between the newcomers and me.

I use the moment of distraction to put a bullet through Barker’s forehead and then another in his heart, to be sure.

Cerberus struggles in my grip, but it’s only a second before I put another bullet through his temple.

I drop him and scramble for cover behind the large dumpster next to me.

I can’t have these guys living, carrying a vendetta against me.

As the van doors fly open, a swarm of armed FBI agents in tactical gear stream out, their guns gleaming ominously in the dim light, faces twisting into snarls. A shootout erupts, the deafening sound of gunfire echoing off the narrow alley walls.

I move with lightning speed, despite the bullets ricocheting off the metal surface and the bricks to my right.

Taking a deep breath, I mentally run through the training of where the other agents will be, so I don’t drop one accidentally, steady my aim, and return fire, my shots precise and deadly.

One by one, the MC crew fall, their weapons clattering to the ground.

I dart from my cover. Using the fact that Cujo has a gun pointed at me to claim self-defense later, I put two in his head.

“Federal Bureau of Investigation!” I shout over the din. “You’re under arrest!”

I straighten to my full height as the chaos settles. My mission accomplished. But when I see Colton Merrick wandering around, a dumb ass look on his face, I grit my teeth.

What a fucking idiot .

Someone blew my cover, and it’s fucking suspect that my team took their sweet time getting here.

I’m glad my life didn’t depend on him tonight, family friend or not.

He may have grandmother wrapped around his finger, but he’s an incompetent asshole.

At least I covered my ass. Adrenaline slowly recedes, and I step away from the team to disguise my shaking body.

Pulling my phone out of my back pocket, I tap out a message for my boss.

Me: The Hell Hounds are done.

Sinski: Copy that, Agent Wilder. Good work. Any casualties?

Me: Negative. All hostiles are dead. No casualties on our side.

There are still a few Hounds who didn’t make it out tonight, but I’ll take them out myself. The last thing I need is to have them arrested.

Sinski: That’s a relief to hear, Wild. Once you’re back at the base, we’ll debrief, and you can finally get some rest.

Me: Looking forward to it. It’s been a long two years.

Sinski: Indeed.

Me: Wild out.