kid in some. If these don’t scare Doc Christensen out of hiding I don’t know what will.”
Al nodded, shaking off the odd mixture of desire and anger Cassidy Christensen produced in him. He needed to concentrate on their objectiveone dead body shipped to the finish line first. He couldn’t believe Ramirez was baiting them against other operatives. When they’d gotten the tip about Cassidy being at that race he’d thought it was an exclusive. But now there was someone new in the game, a young guy Ramirez thought was the greatest thing since the AK-47. The only good news was the kid had another assignment. They had some time, but Al couldn’t afford the distraction of a beautiful woman. He thought of Cassidy’s firm body. With or without a financial incentive, he’d be coming back for her.
He looked at Terry. “Let’s go earn our money.”
“Ramirez won’t be the only one paying up,” Terry said. “I heard Panetti will throw in something extra when Doc’s finally dead. He really hates him.”
Al shrugged. “Doc reminds Panetti of what he used to be before he sold out.”
Terry arched an eyebrow. “Have we sold out?”
“Nah. You have to care about something to sell out and you only care about the money.”
Terry grinned. “Two million dollars is a lot to care about.”
* * *
“Just keep running, just keep running, run, run, run, run, run.” The words bounced around in my brain, over and over again as I trudged mile after mile or maybe foot after foot was more appropriate. It was the fourth day of my six-mile-a-day plan and I’d yet to make it six miles running. My legs had never hurt like this. Weighted squats? Walking lunges? Box jumps? Child’s play. This running stuff made my leg workouts look like a stroll through the shopping mall.
I heard steady breathing coming from the rear. My heart thumped a bit faster. I did not like being out alone on these dark streets. The police had found no trace of Muscle Man or his partner, but what if they were watching me? What if whoever murdered my faceless nightmare was out there somewhere? I tried to increase my pace, but I had nothing. My poor legs had been pushed to their limit and no amount of adrenaline was going to quicken my stride.
“Would you rather have me raped and left for dead on the side of the road?” I muttered to my feeble muscles.
I straightened my shoulders and slowed my breathing. The runner was going to catch me any minute, I might as well look confident. “I’m tough. No dude is messing with me.” I wrapped my hand around a small bottle of pepper spray I’d hidden in my key pocket.
The footfalls grew louder and louder. I tried for positive thoughts. Maybe it was Damon or Jesse. My heart thumped even more erratically at that possibility. I’d be thrilled to see either one of them. I glanced out of the corner of my eye as the runner pulled level with me. Way too short and definitely female. I released my pepper spray in relief. The woman looked over and smiled.
Oh, no. Hot Redhead. I think I would’ve preferred my concocted rapist.
“Hey.” Her face lit up like I was a free download for her iPod. She pulled her left earbud out. “You’re the girl who won the marathon.”
“Yep.”
“Oh, I’m so jealous,” she gushed. Hot Redhead slowed her pace to match mine. “I entered the lottery for St. George and didn’t get in.”
I arched an eyebrow. She must’ve forgotten that I was already privy to her desperation to run with Damon.
She sighed. “I’m going to have to figure out some other way to enter. I wish they would’ve let us transfer the entry at The Health Days Race.”
How did Hot Redhead chat like this while she ran? I gasped for more oxygen and pushed out the word, “Yep.”
“Would you like me to train with you?” she asked.
No, I’d like you to run along, pretty girl, and let me die here by myself. Of course I didn’t have the oxygen to vocalize
Al nodded, shaking off the odd mixture of desire and anger Cassidy Christensen produced in him. He needed to concentrate on their objectiveone dead body shipped to the finish line first. He couldn’t believe Ramirez was baiting them against other operatives. When they’d gotten the tip about Cassidy being at that race he’d thought it was an exclusive. But now there was someone new in the game, a young guy Ramirez thought was the greatest thing since the AK-47. The only good news was the kid had another assignment. They had some time, but Al couldn’t afford the distraction of a beautiful woman. He thought of Cassidy’s firm body. With or without a financial incentive, he’d be coming back for her.
He looked at Terry. “Let’s go earn our money.”
“Ramirez won’t be the only one paying up,” Terry said. “I heard Panetti will throw in something extra when Doc’s finally dead. He really hates him.”
Al shrugged. “Doc reminds Panetti of what he used to be before he sold out.”
Terry arched an eyebrow. “Have we sold out?”
“Nah. You have to care about something to sell out and you only care about the money.”
Terry grinned. “Two million dollars is a lot to care about.”
* * *
“Just keep running, just keep running, run, run, run, run, run.” The words bounced around in my brain, over and over again as I trudged mile after mile or maybe foot after foot was more appropriate. It was the fourth day of my six-mile-a-day plan and I’d yet to make it six miles running. My legs had never hurt like this. Weighted squats? Walking lunges? Box jumps? Child’s play. This running stuff made my leg workouts look like a stroll through the shopping mall.
I heard steady breathing coming from the rear. My heart thumped a bit faster. I did not like being out alone on these dark streets. The police had found no trace of Muscle Man or his partner, but what if they were watching me? What if whoever murdered my faceless nightmare was out there somewhere? I tried to increase my pace, but I had nothing. My poor legs had been pushed to their limit and no amount of adrenaline was going to quicken my stride.
“Would you rather have me raped and left for dead on the side of the road?” I muttered to my feeble muscles.
I straightened my shoulders and slowed my breathing. The runner was going to catch me any minute, I might as well look confident. “I’m tough. No dude is messing with me.” I wrapped my hand around a small bottle of pepper spray I’d hidden in my key pocket.
The footfalls grew louder and louder. I tried for positive thoughts. Maybe it was Damon or Jesse. My heart thumped even more erratically at that possibility. I’d be thrilled to see either one of them. I glanced out of the corner of my eye as the runner pulled level with me. Way too short and definitely female. I released my pepper spray in relief. The woman looked over and smiled.
Oh, no. Hot Redhead. I think I would’ve preferred my concocted rapist.
“Hey.” Her face lit up like I was a free download for her iPod. She pulled her left earbud out. “You’re the girl who won the marathon.”
“Yep.”
“Oh, I’m so jealous,” she gushed. Hot Redhead slowed her pace to match mine. “I entered the lottery for St. George and didn’t get in.”
I arched an eyebrow. She must’ve forgotten that I was already privy to her desperation to run with Damon.
She sighed. “I’m going to have to figure out some other way to enter. I wish they would’ve let us transfer the entry at The Health Days Race.”
How did Hot Redhead chat like this while she ran? I gasped for more oxygen and pushed out the word, “Yep.”
“Would you like me to train with you?” she asked.
No, I’d like you to run along, pretty girl, and let me die here by myself. Of course I didn’t have the oxygen to vocalize
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