Dead For Good Book 1 Read online

  Dead For Good

  Book 1

  Stacy Claflin

  Nolon King

  Copyright © 2021 by Sterling & Stone

  All rights reserved.

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  Thank you for supporting our work.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Want more?

  A Quick Favor…

  About the Authors

  Chapter One

  Bradley Morris lowered his baseball cap and sipped from his empty coffee cup, waiting. Watching.

  His target was due to walk through the door any moment.

  The door remained closed.

  Conversations from other customers distracted him. One lady at the next table over laughed like a hyena. It grated on his nerves.

  He’d rather wait for his target out in the parking lot. Quieter locations were always preferred. But Bradley worked with what he had.

  This target literally worked in a Target.

  The irony wasn’t lost on him.

  Juan Sanchez had been making coffee beverages for the last hour. Should’ve only been only ten minutes after Brad arrived, but he had agreed to cover for a barista who was running late.

  It was like he knew his life was on the line.

  He should’ve thought of that before torturing those kids.

  He’d evaded the police, so now he was Brad’s assignment.

  That meant he wouldn’t see tomorrow, and the world would be a safer place in a few short hours.

  The door marked “Employees” opened.

  Brad glanced over, careful not to move his head.

  Bingo.

  It was Juan.

  But he didn’t head for the exit as expected. No, he marched deeper into the store.

  Brad held back an eye roll as he crumpled his cup and tossed it into a bin, keeping watch on his man.

  Juan marched toward the lingerie department, where he began flirting with the girl behind the counter. She had to be half his age.

  Brad stopped across the aisle and pretended to be interested in a shirt with the band logo for Goths in Trees as he eyed the creep from across the aisle.

  The girl on the other side of the counter inched away from him, her gaze darting around. Juan moved closer, his voice growing louder and his posture stiffening. The girl stepped away from the counter and pushed a cart full of merchandise, keeping it between her and him.

  Smart girl.

  She kind of reminded him of Hadley, whose performance he was missing because of his job. His seventeen-year-old was the star of her school play, and he wasn’t there to cheer her on from the front row.

  Because of Juan.

  But he was making the world a better place for Hadley. For his whole family.

  The girl across the aisle backed away from Juan, her eyes growing wider by the moment. A wall display of lacy robes cornered her.

  Juan inched around the cart.

  She shook her head and held out her palms.

  He laughed.

  Brad shoved the shirt back on the rack. It was too soon for his target to see him, but Brad couldn’t let this continue. He grabbed a strappy, pleated thing and hurried over. “Excuse me, miss. I believe this is the right size for my wife. Can you ring this up for me?”

  Juan glowered at Brad, his face contorting and reddening.

  “I appreciate all your help finding this.” Brad slapped the lingerie onto the counter. Glared back at Juan.

  The girl threw him an appreciative glance.

  He turned back to Juan. “I’m not interrupting you, am I?”

  Juan’s expression said it all.

  Brad stared him down until he trudged away.

  “Thank you so much.” The girl breathed a sigh of relief. “I was really getting scared. Are you actually buying that?”

  “No.” Brad watched Juan hurrying away. “I gotta go.”

  “Thanks again!”

  Brad gave a quick wave and followed Juan, hurrying not to lose him.

  This time, his target went for the exit.

  He stopped briefly to pocket some gum, giving Brad enough time to catch up.

  He kept enough distance to avoid the other man’s attention.

  Once outside, Juan darted to the left toward the side of the building.

  Brad sprinted toward Juan.

  Fingers squeezed his arm. Then his other arm. Something covered his eyes. His mouth. Shoved him against the brick wall. Pain shot through his cheek.

  His mind raced to make sense of it. Nothing like this had ever happened during a hit. He was always overly cautious.

  Brad kicked his assailants. Elbowed them. Thrashed around. Flung himself like he’d been trained.

  One of the men flew back, let go of Brad’s eyes.

  Juan was running across the lot. Still in sight.

  For now.

  The other attacker grasped him harder, swearing profusely.

  Brad punched him as hard as he could in the face.

  His assailant blocked instinctively.

  Brad kicked his knee.

  He fell to the pavement with a thud. Reached up. Hollered in pain.

  The other man flew into Brad’s side. They crashed against the wall. Landed on the other attacker.

  Brad shoved him off. Leaped to his feet. Glanced around.

  Juan was nearing the edge of the parking lot. Whether he got into a car or left on foot, it would be next to impossible to catch him if he didn’t go now.

  He would have to start over. Admit defeat to his boss.

  That wasn’t going to happen.

  His two attackers leaped up. Lunged for him.

  Brad backed up, reached into his inside jacket pocket, and yanked out the bear spray he kept for emergencies.

  They screamed — blinded by a sudden and unexpected agony.

  He raced toward Juan, no longer having the luxury of trying to stay quiet or out of sight. His shoes thudded on the concrete.

  Juan turned toward a dark van.

  The man wasn’t going to get away. Not on his watch.

  Brad forced his legs to run faster. His muscles burned, his lungs on fire.

  It wasn’t until Juan was almost within reach that he turned toward Brad. “What the—”

  Brad aimed the bear spray and pressed the nozzle.

  It wasn’t his typical MO. But it did the job.

  Brad grabbed the man by his throat.
“You’re coming with me.”

  Chapter Two

  Brad lowered the visor and turned on the harsh overhead light to check for bruising in the mirror. Only a slight purpling near his right temple. Faye probably wouldn’t notice.

  He grabbed the plastic container with the two desserts from La Isla’s, her favorite restaurant near the Space Needle. They hadn’t been there since before Luna was born. Seven years. He grimaced at the realization, then winced at the sore spot near his eye.

  Stepping outside into the frigid drizzle, something pinched in his lower back. He rubbed the spot as he balanced the cheesecake and set the alarm for his black Mercedes. A dull ache radiated from his knee as he made his way to the front door. Maybe he should start considering retirement.

  No. He was one of the best assassins at BlueBlade. His only real competition was Rose Flores, and that was because he’d been the one to train her — a rarity, as most who joined the company already knew what they were doing. He only had aches and pains tonight was because he’d been jumped. He’d be fine otherwise.

  Brad entered the house and kicked off his shoes. The soft thud as they bumped into his daughter’s cleats sounded louder in the late-night silence. He cringed, half-expecting Faye to appear at the top of the stairs to scold him for making so much noise while the kids slept. Except they were probably still awake — at least the older two, Hadley and Zeke.

  He crept up the stairs, not wanting to wake Luna. The master bedroom was as dim as the hallway, and he almost didn’t see Faye lying in bed.

  “Are you awake?” He gave her a peck on the cheek, brushing against something cold. “Why the ice pack?” He imagined her with bruising, too.

  Faye moaned. “Migraine.”

  “Oh, no. I thought you were past those.”

  “They still hit me from time to time.” Her tone indicated that this wasn’t exactly news.

  “Can I get you anything?” He rubbed her shoulder.

  She pulled away. “I just need sleep.”

  “I picked up chocolate caramel cheesecake slices from La Isla’s.” He held out the box.

  “Not so loud.”

  Brad stiffened. “I’ll put it in the fridge. We can share it tomorrow.”

  “Or the kids can have it.”

  “I got it for you.”

  “I don’t need the extra calories.”

  “You look perfect. No need to change anything.”

  “Goodnight.” Faye rolled away from him.

  “Sorry I didn’t call about being late. Figured you’d already be sleeping.”

  Silence.

  “I’ll put this in the fridge.” He changed into a T-shirt and sweats, then headed back downstairs.

  Hadley sat at the table tapping furiously on her phone, her hair in a bun and her face slathered with green goo. “Another late night at the office?”

  Brad opened the fridge. “Just got back from a convention.”

  “How exciting.”

  “You have no idea.” He moved some food around in the fridge until the cheesecake fit.

  She pulled her attention from the screen and met his gaze. “You coming to my play tomorrow? The evening show is the final performance.”

  “I wouldn’t miss it.”

  Her eyebrows furrowed. “I’m the lead. You haven’t made it to any yet.”

  “Of this play, and I’ll be there. My calendar is cleared for it.”

  “If you say so.” Hadley turned back to her phone.

  “I will. Tomorrow night. What time?”

  “Seven-thirty.” She left the room.

  Brad rubbed his temples, tempted to eat the cheesecake. Instead, he grabbed a beer and went into the backyard. The drizzle had turned into rain mixed with snow. Ignoring the goosebumps forming along his arms, he collapsed onto the bench swing and took a long swig. The drink did nothing to calm his nerves.

  After emptying the bottle, he rose, eager to get back to the warmth inside. But then he paused while reaching for the handle. The house next door was completely dark. His neighbor usually left several lights on all night. It was one of the many things about Duke that annoyed him.

  Brad shook it off and returned to the kitchen. He poured some ice into a large glass in case Faye wanted more for her pack. On the way to his room, he checked on his son.

  Zeke had on his gaming headphones and sat in front of his computer, unaware Brad had opened the door. He checked on his youngest next, fully expecting to find Luna sound asleep.

  She was sitting by her door in the dark, petting the ragdoll cat, Mittens.

  “What are you doing up?”

  Luna shrugged.

  “It’s late for little girls.” Brad pulled her into his arms and settled her into her bed. Mittens scampered away. “Were you waiting for me to get home?”

  “Maybe.”

  “I’m here. Time to get some sleep.” He tucked her in and kissed her forehead.

  “Okay.”

  Brad waited until she closed her eyes before heading to his room and climbing into bed with Faye. “Do you need more ice?”

  “You don’t need to go back down.”

  “I brought some up.”

  “You did?” She sat up.

  “Yes.” He took the pack and tried to put ice in it but dropped the cubes on their bed. “I need to turn on the light.”

  She squinted as the room when bright. “You didn’t need to bring that up.”

  “I wanted to.”

  The corners of her mouth curved up slightly.

  Warmth spread through his chest. He handed her the refilled ice pack.

  She leaned closer as if to give him a kiss but then paused, her mouth gaping.

  Probably noticed his bruise.

  “Is that blood behind your ear?”

  His heart plummeted. How had he missed that? He straightened his sore back. “It’s nothing. A guy cut himself at the convention. Some people shouldn’t be allowed near knife shows.”

  “You helped clean him up?”

  “Right.” He rubbed the spot behind his ear, feeling a small crusty patch, and turned off the light. “Looks like I should shower off.”

  “Probably. Thanks for the ice.”

  Brad sauntered to the bathroom, hardly able to believe he’d made such a rookie mistake. Sure, things hadn’t gone as planned, but he needed to stay at the top of his game.

  From here on out, he would make sure he did.

  No excuses.

  Chapter Three

  Brad kissed Faye and then sat at the kitchen table, his stomach grumbling from the aroma of bacon and waffles. He’d have offered to help, but she loved making her Saturday morning spread, and he knew better than to get in her way.

  It was late enough that both his teens were awake and eating. Hadley had even dressed and curled her hair.

  “Good morning.” He forced a smile, still half-asleep, and sipped his coffee.

  “Morning,” Zeke mumbled.

  Hadley nodded but didn’t look up from her phone.

  “Mom got chocolate syrup.” Luna beamed petting Mittens.

  “That’s great.” Brad set his mug down. “No pets at the table.”

  Luna pouted.

  He shook his head. “You know the rules.”

  Zeke snickered.

  “What?” Brad inhaled more caffeine.

  “Nothing. Hey, Dad, did you know Michael Dukakis declared April 24th ‘New Kids On the Block Day’ in Massachusetts?”

  “I must’ve missed that one.”

  “And the first emoticon was used in 1982.” Zeke grinned.

  A dramatic sigh from Hadley, then, “Would you stop already?”

  Luna nudged the cat, who jumped to the floor, then leaned closer to Brad. “Mom lets me hold her at mealtime when you’re away.”

  “You still know the rules.”

  Faye came over and piled more waffles onto the plate in the middle of the table. She rubbed Brad’s shoulders. “You feel tense.”

  He closed his eyes
for a moment. “That feels nice. Is your headache gone?”

  “Just needed to sleep it off. Luckily it wasn’t the kind that lasts for days.” She took the seat next to him and grabbed a piece of bacon.

  “Then you’d have to cook.” Luna poked Brad and giggled.

  “Nobody wants that.” Hadley looked up from her phone.

  “Luna actually pays attention to her family.”

  She smirked before returning to her screen. Another battle Brad didn’t bother to fight.

  “All done.” Luna leaped from her chair and scampered out of the room.

  Faye turned to Brad. “Does she seem off to you?”

  “Off?”

  “She isn’t acting like herself this morning.”

  “Seems fine to me.” He took a bite of waffle.

  Zeke glanced between them. “Thanks, Mom. It was great.” He raced out of the room.

  “Dishes!” Faye called after him.

  Hadley pushed back her chair. “Don’t look at me. I have to do my makeup for the play and need to be at school in less than an hour.”

  Faye shook her head. “What happened to the kids who did their chores without hounding?”

  “Are you talking about our kids?” One corner of Brad’s mouth curved up. “I’ll get the dishes this time.”

  She gave him a double-take. “You will?”

  “Don’t look so surprised.”

  “I’m not.” She pushed what was left of her waffle around the plate before looking back at him. “I was thinking about the salon again.”

  “What about it?”

  “I was—”

  “Cheryl isn’t giving you problems about your hours again, is she? That woman needs to understand that you have a family. You want me to talk to her?”