Read Online I Kill in Peace by Hunter Shea - Free Book Online

stream of cars flew past me on either side.
    â€œWhat now?” I asked, hands locked at ten and two. My right foot squished when I pressed down on the pedal, my blood saturating the sock. “You’re leaving me hanging out to dry?”
    A pickup flashed its brights behind me. It rode my ass so close, I could see the color of the driver’s eyes—Sinatra blue. The guy had long hair and a week’s worth of carefully sculpted stubble. Metrosexual meets modern day metal head.
    â€œGo around me, asshole.” I waved him to get in the fast lane and leave me be.
    If I didn’t go to a hospital, I could call ahead to Candy and tell her to meet me at the diner for lunch. That would get her out of the house so I could get at the first-aid kit and a fresh pair of jeans. But how would I explain the limp? I shook my head. Coming up with a lie on how I hurt my leg was the least of my problems. I’d call home once I got a little closer. She wouldn’t recognize me if we passed on the road. In that sense, the Mustang was good camouflage.
    A horn blared behind me, an unbroken stream of impatience and stupidity.
    â€œAre you fucking kidding me?” I said, staring into the rearview mirror. The guy was glowering back at me. The circus of cars had broken. He had the entire damn road to go around me. Just pick a lane.
    I slowed the car down. If he was in such a hurry, he’d figure it out.
    Gritting my teeth, I chanced poking a finger around the bullet hole in my thigh. I winced, but more from expecting thunderbolts of pain rather than actually feeling anything. The pad of my index finger came away sticky with blood. I touched it again, wondering how deep the wound went. I was probably making any potential infection worse by prodding it with my dirty finger, but so what.
    To my shock, I touched solid, unblemished skin.
    â€œWhat?”
    I looked down, pulling the hole in my jeans up so I could see the flesh underneath.
    Hooooooonnnnnnkkkkk!
    â€œHoly mother of—how the hell?”
    The hole had been there, as evidenced by the pain and copious amount of blood on my pants and the car.
    But now it was gone. I wiped the blood away and saw my unblemished thigh, the hair tinted crimson.
    Hoooooooonnnnnnnkkkk!
    I looked up. The pickup was inches away from my trunk. Was this guy insane?
    Elated and pissed off that this jackhole was spoiling the moment, I slammed on the brakes, not thinking about the fact that the pickup was going to plow right through me. The truck rammed into the rear of the Mustang. My car was rocketed into overdrive. I slammed back into my seat, my hands trying to keep the wheel straight.
    Suddenly, the pressure from behind was gone. The back of the Mustang fishtailed.
    â€œWhere the hell—”
    I jumped in my seat when the pickup dropped in front of me, landing on its roof. The truck was still going over sixty miles an hour, kicking up a fireworks display of sparks.
    Cutting the wheel to my right, I swerved around the truck, nicking one of its fenders, sending it spinning. I watched in my rearview as the truck whirled off the road, coming to a great, heaving stop at the base of a thick-trunked tree. All that was missing was a theatrical fireball.
    I kept on going. A strange heat flushed my skin. My balls felt as if they were on fire.
    I felt good.
    Holy shit, I felt more than good. I felt amazing.
    Somehow, I knew the man in the pickup was dead. Knowing that gave me a strange sense of…accomplishment.
    In under an hour, I’d killed three people and I never felt so alive.
    My hands burned so hot, I thought the steering wheel would melt in my palms. My vision wavered between blurred edges and the clarity to see all the way into Canada.
    What the hell was happening to me?
    * * * * *
    Instead of my usual Cobb salad, I dove into a double cheeseburger deluxe at the diner, sucking down a large Coke and a chocolate milkshake. The last time I’d been this hungry was back in