Read Online The Killing Kind by Bryan Smith - Free Book Online Page A

easy. Calmly. Like any regular dude getting out of his car to take a piss. Keep the open cuff tucked in your palm and don’t look at the fat fuck at the pump. Walk straight to the bathroom with me. Got it?”
    She was pointing the gun at him again.
    Yeah, he got it.
    He nodded.
    “Good. Let’s go.”
    She got out and stood at the side of the car, waiting for him, the gun tucked away in the tote bag, which she held in front of her. Rob got out and carefully kept his head turned away from the gas pumps as he followed her toward the bathroom. And though he was aware of how obscenely inappropriate it was in light of the monstrous thing she’d done not even an hour earlier, the prurient part of him couldn’t help noting that she looked just as good from behind. The backs of her thighs and calves were shapely and toned, and her high-rise ass looked amazing framed by that little black skirt. Her walk was the effortless, seductive strut of a born sex kitten. The swivel of her hips made him think about things he had no business thinking of in light of the horrible thing she had done. When they reached the bathroom door, she glanced at him, a corner of her mouth quirking in a way that made it clear she knew exactly where his attention had beenand exactly what he had been thinking. That smug surety made him at once angry and ashamed. This was an awful woman. A heartless killer. The knowledge of that alone should kill any flicker of lust looking at her might inspire.
    But it didn’t. Not quite.
    And knowing that deepened the shame.
    She opened the door and pushed him into a dark space. She followed him inside and flicked a switch, summoning light to swallow the darkness. Rob heard her push the door shut behind him and turn the lock. It hit him. He was alone in a closed space with a murderer. No one could see them. She could kill him now and no one could stop her. Hell, it would be the perfect time to do it. He heard something hit the floor and realized she’d dropped the tote bag.
    Leaving just the gun in her hand.
    He tensed, expecting to feel the press of a gun barrel against the back of his head any moment. He tried not to whimper. Tried to be brave.
    He closed his eyes and waited for the end.
    Then he felt something small and hard hammer the small of his back. He cried out and pitched forward, his knees painfully smacking the hard and filthy floor tiles. His eyes came open a moment before something—her open palm, he realized an instant later—struck the side of his head and drove him the rest of the way to the floor.
    “Get under the sink.”
    Rob rolled onto his side and stared up at her through eyes misted with tears. “Jesus. You didn’t have to hit me.”
    She kicked him in the shin and he cried out again.
    “Do what I fucking told you before I lose my patience.”
    Rob got to his hands and knees and stared at the small porcelain sink. It was mounted against the wall to the left. A rust-corroded pipe protruded from the bottom of the sink and fed through a hole in the wall. Roxie kicked him again, in the ass this time, and he yelped. He hurriedlycrawled under the sink and stared up at her again as she knelt in front of him. The dark sunglasses were up over her forehead, nestled in the raven black hair. She looked sexier than ever, down there on her haunches, so close to him now, the thrust of her breasts against the tight T-shirt more evident than ever. He stared into her eyes and felt the shame come back. This beautiful face…at this angle…It was probably exactly the way those poor fucks in the Neon had seen her in the final, unsuspecting moments of their lives. In his mind he saw the bright splash of red against the Neon’s rear window. He started shaking again.
    She smiled. “Scared?”
    He swallowed. “Yeah.”
    She stared at him silently a moment, head at an angle, lips pursed as she studied him. Then she smiled again and said, “Good. I like that.” She grabbed the open cuff and snapped it shut around