Read Online The Gauntlet Assassin by LJ Sellers - Free Book Online

lifeline to a better future—a young man with a dog zoomed up the path on his skateboard. The unleashed Boxer slowed as the pair passed the bench, then turned and trotted toward the sack. The dog sniffed the bag, then grabbed it with his teeth.
    No! Heart hammering, Paul sprinted toward the bench, watching in horror as the Boxer trotted off with the cash.
    Paul pushed harder, arms pumping, his thick untrained legs weak from the exertion. The dog picked up speed as it ran after its owner, who was still unaware of the distraction. The wind tugged at his wig, but Paul didn’t slow down or grab for it. He kept pumping his arms and legs, working them harder than he had since he’d run from bullies in junior high. Ten thousand dollars! He had to catch that Boxer.
    “Put it down!” Paul yelled, desperate to get the dog or the young man’s attention. The skateboarder slowed and turned. He saw the bag in the dog’s mouth and put his foot out to stop. As the Boxer caught up to its owner, the young man reached down to take the sack. Paul sprinted up and grabbed it from the dog’s mouth, tearing the bag a little as he pulled.
    “That’s mine.” The words were barely audible as he sucked in rapid gulping breaths. Pain searing his lungs and legs, Paul turned and jogged away with the bag.
    “Sorry,” the young man called out behind him. Paul kept moving, grateful the Boxer hadn’t put up a fight. He would have hated to strike an innocent dog to free the bag.
    He ran for the sidewalk, wanting desperately to look in the sack, which had been stapled shut. Even more, he wanted to get as far away from this near disaster as he could.
    He caught a bus at the corner of South Carolina and 3rd Street and hurried to a seat in the back, next to an older woman who looked displeased to see him take up the space. He slipped off the backpack as he sat down and crammed the paper sack inside. The scent of burger and fries wafted from the paper. The idiot had used his empty dinner sack. No wonder the dog had grabbed it. Paul let out a small nervous laugh. That had been so close, so nearly ruinous. What if the Boxer had torn open the sack? What would he have done? Paul couldn’t bear to think about it. He had the money and Rathmore had no idea who he was. That was all that mattered.
    Paul’s heart skittered. Did he really have ten grand in his possession? His fingers itched to tear open the bag, which seemed like the right weight for a stack of bills. But the bus was nearly full and the woman next to him seemed like the type to snoop, so he waited
    He exited a few blocks from his apartment complex and entered a crowded McDonald’s, where he headed straight for the bathroom. In the stall, he yanked out the white sack and ripped open the top. Inside were three stacks of gorgeous green bills. Yes! He’d pulled it off. Nearly dizzy with excitement, Paul shoved the bag to the bottom of his backpack. He would count the cash when he got home. He’d stomached all he could of public bathrooms for one day. He pulled off his wig and mustache and changed back into his wrinkled work clothes, shedding his new alter ego.
    Being Paul the frumpy programmer again was simultaneously a relief and a letdown. Still, he left the warm greasy air of the restaurant feeling successful and strode into the wind toward home. On the way, he remembered he still had to arrange to have Janel Roberts fired. A few ideas came to mind, but they all made his stomach churn.

Chapter 8
    Mon., May 8, 12:58 p.m.
    As Lara entered the arena, the cool air made goose bumps pop up on her arms. She’d changed into a snug-fitting, water-repellent bodysuit that wouldn’t keep her warm unless she was moving. She knew from watching the contest in previous years that the huge indoor space was divided into areas with different configurations and had a hallway around the perimeter. From the front section, all she could see was a portion of the gray twenty-foot walls, constructed of a