Violet absently wiped her hands on her thick protective pants. She sighed. It had been a messy kill, but it was done. How many had she killed? Violet had lost track. Plenty of shady men, the occasional revenge calls. Her reverie was broken by a buzzing phone.
Is it done? Came the impatient employer.
Yes. The body has been disposed of. Police will think it was an accident.
Good. Your money is being deposited.
She sighed again. She didn't really need or want the money, but the list of employers was piling up. She quietly tapped the next customer.
"Ah, good. Violet. I was beginning to think you had forgotten. " a thin, reedy voice chuckled over the phone. My heart skipped a beat. He knew my name.
"What do you need?" I asked stiffly. My patience for the day was wearing thin. The voice tutted scoldingly.
"Skyler Jones. Her address is 12868 Meyer avenue. Knock on the door and ask for her. Take her somewhere private, like the safe house. Once that is done, you will get your next instructions." I had forgotten how this man works. In sections, so I need him through the whole thing.
"Oh and Violet? Wear something more casual" then he hung up. I sucked in a breath. I had never met any of my customers. Now this man knew my name and what I wear.
YOU ARE READING
Violet
General FictionViolet is a mercenary. A cold blooded, ruthless mercenary. She lives by a code. • everyone is guilty • all secrets must be spilled • don't get attached But when Violet is sent to kill a seemingly innocent victim, Violet begins to doubt the code s...
