Stryker by Naomi West

Author:Naomi West [West, Naomi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-03-19T04:00:00+00:00

14

Stryker

I had a bad fucking feeling. Rust had sounded worried as shit on the phone when he’d told me that he’d driven by my pad and seen that one of the windows looked like it’d been broken into.

Lexie and I were on for dinner at her place, but it would have to wait. As much as I wanted to see her, I had to check this out, make sure that some serious shit wasn’t going down.

I pulled up to my building and cut the engine. The air was quiet—quiet for LA, that is—and nothing looked to be out of the ordinary. I ran around the building and took a look at one of the windows. Sure enough, a big hole had been punched through the glass.

It didn’t look good. Sure, that could mean some kid had thrown a rock, or any number of other explanations, but I wasn’t in the business of erring on the side of caution.

I stepped up to the building door and unlocked it. Once the door was open, I reached back and checked for my gun. Pistol in hand, I checked the ammo, flicked off the safety, and headed in.

With quiet steps, I approached my apartment door. I placed my ear against the door, holding my breath and listening for anything out of the ordinary.

Nothing. A good sign. But that didn’t mean there couldn’t be someone hiding inside, someone wanting to do more privately what had already been tried when they’d pulled that drive-by.

I quietly unlocked the door, opened it up, and stepped in, shutting it behind me once I was inside.

Everything seemed in order. Everything aside from the broken window, that is. Chunks of glass were scattered on the ground, glittering in the light above. I kept my gun close, ready to do whatever needed to be done.

Once I was in the middle of the room, I felt a small tinge of relief when I spotted a fist-sized rock lying next to the couch. That was a good sign.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I took it out and glanced at the screen, seeing that it was a text from Lexie. But before I could read what it said, I heard something behind me.

A door opening. Footsteps.

Someone was here.

I turned on my heel and saw him. Down at the end of the hallway was a man, tall and wide-shouldered, with a wild mane of hair. He was dressed in denim and leather, and his eyes were in angry little slits.

He wasn’t here for a social call. He was here to kill.

His eyes flicked down to the gun in my hands. I didn’t waste any time. I raised the pistol and pointed it square at his chest. But before I could get out a single round, the man whipped the knife towards me.

The blade was a glint of silver flying through the air. I dropped to the ground, hitting it hard and fast and landing right on my shoulder in a way that made pain blast through me.

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