Hard to Get (Killer of Kings Book 4)(11)

“Any of you so much as breathes on her, I’ll kill you.”

“You taking a knife to a gunfight, junior?” He felt the muzzle of a gun at the back of his head. Why couldn’t they leave well enough alone?

“Shadow!” Riley called out.

He smirked. It would have been fun to have Killian by his side about now. It would be a good time regardless. Shadow squatted, turned and brought his knife up into the man’s throat, blood spraying out in every direction. When the man’s gun dropped, Shadow kicked it away.

Then he saw the asshole with the beard holding Riley in front of him, his arm across her neck. “I’ll kill her,” he shouted. “Drop your knife.”

Shadow stood up straight, slowly, methodically.

He tossed his knife on the pavement and began walking forward.

When the old bastard thought he’d won, Shadow pulled his Glock from his shoulder holster, aimed, and nailed him right between the eyes. Riley screamed, backing away from the body as it dropped in a heap. It only took seconds for him to curse his decision. Riley had just gone from neighbor to witness, and Boss wouldn’t like it.

What was he thinking? He could have handled this without a body count. Fuck, he shouldn’t even be here. Riley made him act completely out of character.

“Come here,” he said, holding out his hand.

Riley ran over to him, her face blanched. She held his hand, and he made his way inside the bar. The music still played, most of the patrons taking cover after witnessing the gun show outside. Once in the middle of the bar, he called out, “Who owns this place?”

A couple people pointed out one man sitting at the end of the bar. Shadow approached him.

“One of your customers broke a window at the bakery. You aware of that shit?”

The man shook his head.

“You’ll be paying for the damage?”

He nodded.

“If it happens again, I mean anything, I’ll come after you, your family, and your pocketbook. Understand?”

When he nodded again, Shadow repeated himself more loudly. “Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

Shadow wanted to do a hell of a lot more, but he restrained his urge to bring a firestorm of hurt on the asshole.

As they walked out of the bar, heading back to the bakery, Riley hadn’t said a word. She was tough, but not many were used to Shadow’s world of blood and carnage. Maybe a bit of humor would help. “If you went through insurance, your rates would go up,” he said. “It’s better this way.”





Chapter Four


Riley couldn’t believe that she’d just witnessed a bloodbath, and she wasn’t running away screaming. She cleaned up debris on her bakery floor as Shadow pinned up some boards to cover her smashed window.

He hadn’t said a word, and neither had she.

They worked in silence.

What was even scarier than this mess? What had gone down at the bar wasn’t the worst thing she’d ever seen. Being on the streets, she’d seen men completely torture others and then leave them for the rats. One thing she’d learned, never ask too many questions. And no one really wanted to know the answers.

“You’re full of surprises,” Shadow said.

“Huh?”

“Usually I’m the one hoping someone else will shut the fuck up, but right now I’m hoping you’ll talk.” He stared at her with his arms folded. Shadow wore dark gray joggers and a white wife-beater under his jacket. His body was rock hard, and she had to remember not to stare too long. It was nearly time for her to get things ready for work. Her day started before dawn. The life of a baker never stopped. “Talk, Riley.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“You saw me shoot a man, and even though there was a scream from you, you’re not telling the police?”

She nibbled her lip. “Police are no good. They tend to cause more trouble than they fix. I don’t trust them.”

Shadow had actually helped her. Why would she report him for protecting her?

The insurance company would completely cripple her if she was to make a claim. They already demanded enough as it was. Half of her problem was the outrageous rent on her unit. She couldn’t catch a break.

“That’s a big … judgment you have.”

“Believe it or not, I’d rather trust you than a cop.” She poured the broken shards into the trash, and then stood, holding onto her shoulders. She really just wanted to cry. This was not how she wanted to start her day.

Maybe she really was fighting a losing battle to keep this dream alive, to make something of herself. Most of the kids she’d known growing up were addicts, dead, or in jail. She wanted so much more.

She released a breath.

“Again, you’re not talking.”

“I don’t know what to say, Shadow.” She dropped her hands, and looked around the small space. “I think it could be time to sell up. To face reality that some people get what they want, and others have no chance in hell of ever getting it.”

“All you want is a bakery?”

“A successful one. I don’t want millions or to go jet setting around. I just want a bakery that has people coming back for more. It’s been my dream for as long as I can remember.” She shrugged. What good were dreams when they were crumbling down around her?