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I love the way she purrs. Her body is so smooth, when I‘m inside her, I feel like I’m floating on air. Damn it! Of course, I didn’t park her anywhere close and if I’m not careful, someone could fucking spot me. I’m putting away my equipment; my mission here is done. Just as I’m finishing up, trying my best to get the hell up out of here before I get spotted, my phone rings. Irritation courses through my veins. Who the fuck calls me when I’m on a mission?

“Hello” I state, letting whoever is on the line know that they are calling at the wrong fucking time.

“Hey, Jack, I need you again.” Oh, damn it! It’s the boss, Don. No one talks to him like that.

“Oh sorry…what’s…up?” I’m out of breath, I’m carrying my overly grown duffle bag, with my rifle in it and striding down the stairs, in search of my baby ‘Sheeba’. I know what your thinking. What a name. Hey ‘Sheeba’ makes me think of thick, and sleek.

“It’s in Kentucky…the order is for Kevin Richardson, there is a special instruction, though. That’s why I picked you, I know you shouldn’t have any problems with the request.” I can hear him pause, he’s gotta be, shuffling through paperwork.

Don is his name, he’s my boss and the man that took me out of the burning car, where my parents died. He always told me, it was a rescue, to keep me from all those foster homes, that would end up fucking me up. I guess, being an assassin doesn’t, count as a fuck up, in his book. I don’t remember anything about that night, or much else about my life. I only have a couple of memories, of my father, but they are scarce, and they usually come to me in my dreams.

Suddenly, I realize I haven’t answered him yet, maybe that’s what he’s waiting for. “Of course, you can always count on me. I just finished L.R. Daniels…”

“That’s great. Of course, I know I can count on you Jack. So about this Richardson mission, it’s him and…” there is another pause. He’s beating around the damn bush and it’s making me anxious. My Sheeba! I spot my black, 1974 Chevy Nova, she’s all I have to my name. Well, the name that Don gave me, anyway…Jack D.


I stash everything in the trunk, and look around the place, always gotta make sure, I don’t have anyone on my ass. After making sure, I hop in and start up my baby. “Jack…it’s got to do with…a child. You need to find, Kevin Richardson and his first born. The child will go first, so that Richardson understands, who and what has finally caught up with him. Then, right after, it’s his turn. I’m sending you their information and pictures, as we speak.”



I don’t think about these things, it’s a job, there are no feelings involved. What a monster. I know that’s what you’re thinking. Poor people, who are left behind, in so much pain and with so many unanswered questions. Wondering who would and could do such a thing? Well, sadly they will never get the answers, and they will definitely never find, the person responsible. “Alright…I’m on it” I snap my phone shut and rev the engine, then I open the laptop watching as it comes to life and the information slowly processes into my programs.

In this line of work, discretion is most important. I was taught a couple of rules to this trade, by Don. Number one, never ask questions. You’re given enough information, to do the mission. Number two, don't let yourself be seen or get caught. If you do, your on your own. Number three, never snitch, if you do, you might as well put a bullet in your head. They will come after you and everyone, you love. Number four, never interfere with someone else’s mission. Two assassins in the same place, equals one. Number five, never develop emotions for your target. It will only make you fail and you'll become a target, yourself.

Suddenly the air gets stuck in my throat and I stare blankly at the screen. Now, I'm no softie. Piss me off or make an attempt to harm me, and I’ll kill you’re ass, without thinking it twice. For the first time in my god awful life, I have a really bad feeling about this. I can't believe that someone would want to eliminate, such a full smile and piercing green eyes, he’s only about, one or two. I sigh heavily, closing the laptop, I can't look at the picture anymore. I just can't.

I wish this was a normal job, but it's far from being normal. Killing random people is not fucking normal, especially when there’s special instructions. I'm usually a sniper, I do things from a distance, when you least expect it, bam your dead. I'm fucked on this one, it doesn't get to be done like I am used to. I park Sheeba, and kill the engine, I find myself sitting there, like an idiot. I'm just staring at the blue door in front of me. My inner demon is chanting you can do this, you can do this. "I can do this" I tell myself, hopping out of the car and unloading the trunk.

I don’t really live anywhere in particular, I spend most of my days on the road or staying in random motels. All my belongings are stuffed in Sheeba’s ass, my clothes, weapons, CD’s and did I mention my weapons. There is nowhere to call home, or anyone that could possibly be waiting for me. Tonight my home is Motel 6, not the best place, but I do have to be on the down low if you know what I mean. I’m like a ghost, no one really sees me, unless I want them too. No one knows me either…I…like it that way.

With a sigh I plop myself on the bed, I’m getting to old for this shit. Then again what else could I possibly do with my life. I could never be a family man, romance is not in my book. I never expect to fall in love, get married, and have a couple of annoying kids, that I have to support for the rest of my life. Hell no! I’m ok, I go wherever I want, do what the hell I please and definitely fuck whoever I want.

I hop into the shower letting the water run down my tense body. I place my hands against the cool tile and bow my head letting the stream of warmth, fall down my neck and onto my back. That feels damn good, this job may not be physical, but it sure does get me tense, sometimes. I just realize it, once I‘m relaxed and the job is done.

I hear a knock at the door, quickly I wrap a towel around my waist and walk over to open the door. There she stands, the sexy brunette that I met at the local bar last night, she’s fucking hot and she knows it. “Hi Jack” she greets me with a wet kiss on the lips, she takes off her coat and my eyes nearly roll out of my sockets. She’s wearing nothing, but the skin on her bones and damn I’m already rising.

This is the thing about women, they want us to respect and love them, but all the ones I’ve met, have only wanted one thing from me and that’s to get fucked. I’ve never felt a damn thing for them, and it’s obvious that they haven’t for me, either. We get our pleasing and that’s all that matters. Who needs love and affection? What the hell do those words mean, anyway.

“Well you going to stand there?” she says licking her lips and laying on the bed. Fuck no! My brain screams, I close the door, with a kick and head over to her. I can tell she’s used to this, meeting someone in a hotel room. Her coming naked is a plus, saves me all the trouble, of undressing her and pretending there is passion as we strip down, to business. Before you start thinking I’m a jerk, which I don’t give a shit if you do. I please some women…just cause, I like it when they scream my name.

A while later I’m riding her like a pony, and for some reason, my mind isn’t in cue with my dick. I‘m loving the sight of this chic, the look of bliss on her face, is making me feel cocky. As for me…she better be prepared, cause the way I’m going, I might be on it all night. Tell you the truth, I'm not being perverted or sick, but my mind keeps reverting to having to off a child. It’s the first and hopefully the last time I do it. I can tell you that I’m heartless, if I had to I would shoot this bitch right in the forehead, while my dick is still inside. It wouldn’t phase me!

So why in the hell, does my brain feel like it’s about to explode, instead of my wad? I’m not going soft or anything, I mean…that would never happen, to me. No…wait…ah shit, I did go soft. I groan loudly, rolling my eyes at myself, this has never happened to me.

and so does the brunette, whose name I seriously don’t even remember at the time.

“What happened?” the brunette, whose name I seriously don’t remember at the time asks me, with a huff. I’m still hovering over her, trying to catch my breath and some of my dignity, while I’m at it. “I’m out of here…I would have never…thought, that you…” her voice trails off, as I fall onto the bed, on my back. My thoughts revert to the new task, that’s already giving me problems.


Being so bothered by this shit, really blows. I can do this, I keep reassuring myself. That’s what I get paid to do, without having any remorse. Not even for a kid. The slamming of the door makes me jump and I notice that junior is seriously dead tonight. I roll my eyes at myself and sluggishly climb off the bed and walk over to put some clothes on. I gotta get some sleep, I have some traveling to do, Kentucky is a while away from, Texas.