Owned by the Mob Boss (30 page)

I turned around, not wanting to see her naked body, but when she was dressed again, she was still sexy. My cock twitched at the sight of her in those tiny shorts. I just wanted to peel them off of her, push her panties aside, and shove myself inside her and—

"I'm ready," she said.

"No, you aren't." I smirked, trying to calm my cock down so I could think. "You're going to see who I really am. My missions are everything to me."

She shivered, and I knew the look of fear creeping into her eyes would only grow once she learned just who I was.

Yes, when I'm done, you won't want anything to do with me, just like I don't want anything to do with you.

It hurt to somewhat have her again, but at least I was going to be the one to push her away this time.

Shadow

Her arms were around me again, straddling me from behind on my bike.
We flew down the streets. I never did ride anywhere slowly.

"Where are we going?" she shouted at me at a red light.

"You'll see."

A half hour later, she asked again.

"Halfway there."

"Where—"

"You'll see," I repeated, taking off a split second before the light turned green.

Finally, we arrived. I parked a little way down from the playground across the street.

Sky started to climb down, but I shook my head. After a moment, she settled back against me. "What's going on? What kind of mission is this?"

I smirked and grabbed my cell. The pics might not be as crisp as those from a hi-tech camera, but I couldn't really cart one around on my bike. "You'll see."

"Say that phrase again and
you'll see
what I do," she mumbled as she crossed her arms.

"Is that a threat?" I laughed.

She was staring out at the playground now. "They look so carefree," she commented, sounding happy.

Not for long.

"They're screaming banshees."

"Don't you like kids?"

I paused, not sure how to respond, and ended up not saying anything.

We only had to wait another ten minutes before my target showed up. He parked about as far away from the playground as we did, but he stared intently at the kids, the expression on his face enough to churn my stomach.

Sky must've noticed my attention on him because she asked, "Who is he? Someone you know?"

I ignored her and snapped a few pics of him and his car. Couldn't get his plate from this angle but I had several of it already. Every move he made, I noted, and it didn't take me long to realize he was staring at one girl in particular. She broke away from the others to chase after a runaway ball and his head turned as if he was focused on her and her alone. That was the first sign of a guy getting ready to making a move—picking his mark.

"He gives me the creeps," Sky said.

"That's because he should." I growled out the words, pissed at the guy even though he hadn't touched the girl yet. Just knowing he wanted her was enough for me to want to knife him.

"Why?" She flopped back, and I glanced over my shoulder to see her glaring at me as if I was the one to blame for another man's crimes.

"He's a pedophile."

"You know that for certain?" She glanced at the guy again.

I shrugged. "Either he is already, or he will be if given the opportunity."

His body started to jerk rhythmically and then a little faster. I'd just done this earlier and watching him do it, knowing what he was thinking about, made me want to march over to his car, yank him out through the glass, and beat him bloody.

Shortly after he stilled, he drove off. We trailed him, but he didn't head toward his place. He went to a restaurant.

Perfect.

My tires squealed as I made a U-turn and zoomed along to his apartment. I parked a block down and jumped off my bike.

"What is your mission, Shadow?" Sky asked quietly.

"Like you said, we don't know for sure he's a pedophile. I just know he haunts that playground every day, usually for much longer than he did today. If he is, or is seriously planning to take advantage of an innocent child…" My throat grew too tight. "Stay here or come along. Either way, keep quiet."

I ran to the apartment, up to the third floor. All the way in the back was his door. It wasn't hard to pick the lock and just like that, I was in. I'd been tailing this guy for a month now and I knew most of his habits.

A moment later, Sky followed me. For some reason, that didn't make me feel any better. Yeah, I wanted to push her away but right now, I couldn't concentrate on her. I had to be focused. I had to be prepared for what would happen next.

Time was of the essence. His place was cramped and filthy, and in the back, I found his bedroom, and the jackpot—his computer.

"Why are we here? That guy… Shadow, I don't know about all of this…"

Her trepidation only grated on me. He wouldn't do a damn thing to her. She was too old for him. Didn't she realize that? He was a predator.

"Then leave. This is my mission. I have to do this."

Not willing to risk sitting in his computer desk chair – in case he had beaten off while sitting in it - I hunched down and typed away. His computer was password protected, but I had already done research on the guy. His name was Harold Johnson, and I knew his mother's name, his date of birth, his goldfish's name… the last turned out to be his password.
Amateur.

From there, it was all too easy to find what Harold Johnson would have wished remain hidden. The pictures of young girls… in various states of undress… My stomach threatened to bring up my breakfast, the bacon burning in the back of my throat. Anger and repulsion filled me. Memories of darkened rooms and hands from a man I couldn't see reaching out for me… the fear, the self-loathing, the crying…

It took all of my self-control to not smash the computer screen.

"Shadow…" Sky's voice had finally stopped sounding nagging, but now it had taken on a more sympathetic tone, which was almost worse. "What is going on?"

"My missions…" My tongue felt too heavy for me to be able to talk.

I had dragged her in this far. If I wanted to push her away forever, I might as well tell her everything so she would never want to come back to me.

"When I was a boy…" Shit, this wasn't easy to talk about. I
never
talked about this. "My foster father…"

She reached out and touched my shoulder.

I shrugged her hand away, jumped to my feet, and paced the room, refusing to look at her. "He molested me, and ever since, I've been taking care of pedos in revenge," I confessed in a rush, unwilling to look at her to see her reaction.

"A one-man crusade?"

Now I had to know what she thought. I glanced over at her to see her wide eyes, but the rest of her expression, gave away nothing. "Me and my motorcycle club."

Holding my breath, I waited for her to pass judgment, to see revulsion fill her eyes, for her to show signs of fear, for her to run away screaming.

She didn't. What the hell was wrong with her?

I turned away. Maybe she'd leave if I wasn't watching her.

A moment passed. Another. I didn't hear any footsteps. Then I did, but they were heading toward me, not the door. Again, she touched me. Her hand slid down my elbow to my wrist and my hand, holding it as if she had every right to. "That's terrible. I'm so sorry—"

"Sorry? What does feeling sorry about anything ever do?" I narrowed my eyes. She still didn't get what my missions entail. "Sky, I'm not here to track this guy and build up evidence to turn him over to the police. Jail is too good for him. No, I'm here to kill him."

She backed away slightly, her hold on my hand lessening until she dropped it.

"Go on and leave," I taunted her. "Tell the police if you want. I don't give a shit what you do. Just leave me alone."

"What are… what are you going to do?" Finally, there was some real fear in her voice, but was it enough for her to leave? I wasn't sure. She had to go. Leave me to rid the world of these vile, disgusting excuses for men and to try to gain what little peace I could from inflicting my own personal justice… until I located the next guy.

"I'm going to wait for him to come home, and then I'm going to kill him." Simple enough.

Without waiting for a response, I marched to the door and stood in position, pulling my gun from my boot, cocked and ready. My trusty Smith and Wesson Glock 40, silencer already attached. It felt even more at home in my hand than the handle of my bike.

Steps sounded behind me and I lowered the gun, expecting Sky to walk around me and leave. She didn't, just stood a few feet away from me, slightly behind me but where I could still see her. It was like I didn't know her at all anymore, and I guess I didn't, considering she didn't even know herself right now either. How scary all this must be for her.

Not that I was going to allow sympathy to cloud my judgment or change my mind about what I had to do. She was not going to break my heart again. I couldn't let her back in. Not again. Never again. Fuck her. This was supposed to have sent her off in fear. Did she really want to witness my shooting him? Maybe she was naïve enough to believe that I wouldn't go through with it, not with her here. She was in for a rude awakening if she thought that was the case.

"Does he live alone?" she asked after several minutes of silence had passed.

"Yes."

More silence. Waiting was the worst part. The killing I could handle, but the buildup was the worst. Nothing at all like sexual tension. There, the longer the wait, the better the orgasm. With killing, there was a sense of accomplishment from ridding the world of a monster, but it only lasted for a second, if that. There were so many more out there. It would be impossible to find and kill them all, but my boys and I, we did our part to try and better the world, as twisted as it was.

Men like this one were a blight in the world, a pestilence that needed to be eradicated. My mission was to kill as many of them as I could before I die, a never-ending mission, one that might cost me my life. Some days, I hoped it would.

"How long have you been—"

"I would rather not talk right now." I shifted the weight on my feet. Tension was forming in my shoulders, but I wasn't about to move. Howard Johnson was mine.

"Shadow…"

"If you won't shut up on your own, I'll make you," I threatened, but there was no malice in my words, and from her slight scoffing sound, I knew she knew it.

"Shadow," she repeated, and the compassion she infused in my name was enough for me to want to turn toward her, to look at her, to try and read her and understand what she was thinking. How could she still be by my side?

But the sound of approaching footsteps on the stairs, growing louder with every footfall, had me refocusing my gun on the door. Sure enough, a few seconds later, the doorknob jiggled as Howard Johnson unlocked the door to his apartment. The door swung open and he stepped past the threshold. He didn't even have time to get his head completely up before I fired my shot. The bullet cut a clean path through his skull. Hollywood so got silencers wrong. Guns don’t make soft sounds. The sound of the shot is still audible, just not as loud as it would have been without the silencer. Nothing could ever completely mask the sound of a gun firing.

Without uttering a sound, Howard Johnson fell to his knees and slumped forward, dead. I tucked my gun away, stepped around him, and left. Sky followed me.

Mission complete. Time to start my next one. It never ended. It never would.