BUY the final, extended version of this book at Amazon.com!
Titled: Young Love Murder by April Brookshire
I move seductively to the music and throw a smile over my shoulder at the guy grinding up behind me. When we get done dancing, I lead him over to a booth in a dark corner. While he is kissing my neck, I am taking a filled syringe out of my purse. As he is pulling the strap of my dress off my shoulder, I am sticking him in the thigh with the needle. After all the drinks he's had, he doesn't even notice. He just absentmindedly scratches his leg where I had stuck him with the needle. He'll be dead by morning and I'll be long gone.
His obituary will read that he was Christopher Gage Bingman, age twenty-four, born in London, England. It will say that he is survived by both parents and a sister. It will leave out that he is deeply involved in the human trafficking of women from Eastern Europe for the sex trade. To me, he was just a job and now that job is done.
As I walk out of the club and catch a cab to my hotel, I am glad that I will be leaving Prague. For as much history as this beautiful city has, it has just as much depravity. When I get back to the hotel, I send a message to Simon that the job has been completed. He sends a message back within minutes to confirm the transfer of funds. I let him know that I will be in New York until the next job comes up.
After I shower and pack for the flight to New York, I call my older brother, Jackson. He doesn't answer, but I'm not worried because I know he is also on a job right now. I send him a text message to let him know that I'm on my way to our New York home. I know he'll call me when he can.
When I arrive in New York City the next day, I take a cab to the apartment that Jackson and I share. Although, we are rarely here at the same time. I go to my room, lay down on my bed and breathe. I always feel like the only places I can really relax are one of the homes that Jackson and I keep around the world.
I'm lying there not even five minutes, when my phone rings. I check the caller id and it's Simon. I answer it, "Hello Uncle Simon?"
"Hello Annabelle. Another job has come up," he says.
I don't even argue, this is my life. "What's the job?"
"You'll be going to Miami. Since you are still only seventeen, you are the best person for this job. I am sending the information to you now, by fax. Call me after you have gotten settled there," he says.
I say, "Okay," and hang up.
I walk over to the fax machine in our office and the information is already coming through. When the fax machine is finished, I grab the stack of papers, walk over to the desk to sit down and flip them over. Time to get to know my next target.
I look at the pictures first. The one on top is of a Hispanic man in his mid-forties. On the back of the picture is written the name 'Xavier Sanchez'. The next picture is of a beautiful blonde woman, who looks a few years younger, written on the back is 'Eva Sanchez, wife'.
The next picture is of a teenage boy. My breath catches while I look at it. He is handsome, but that's not what startles me. It's his eyes. He is looking into the camera as if he knows my secrets, he reminds me of a predator. I shake my head quickly and rub a hand over my eyes. Get a grip Annabelle, you're imagining things. There is something about him, though. I turn over the picture, it says 'Gabriel Sanchez, son, 17'.
The last picture is of another teenage boy. He looks kind of like Gabriel, but all I see in his eyes is warmth and friendliness. On the back of the picture it says "Max Garcia, nephew, 17'. I'm starting to get an idea as to why Simon chose me for this job.
YOU ARE READING
Killing Me Softly - Teenage Assassin - aka Young Love MurderTeen Fiction
This isn’t a love story, it’s a love adventure. First love’s a killer, but so is seventeen-year-old Annabelle Blanc. She was raised to be an assassin and taught to never fall in love. She’s at the top of her game until she meets Gabriel Sanchez. Tot...