His Target: The Downing Family Book 4 by Wild Cassie

Author:Wild, Cassie
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Belmonte Publishing, LLC
Published: 2018-10-13T16:00:00+00:00

* * *

Even though I didn’t know him, seeing Mickey qualified as good for me too. His arrival had distracted Melia from whatever she might have said to me, at least for now. He had waved a stack of bills at her, all but begging her to finish up the work on a piece he had started a while back.

My replacement showed not long after she’d settled in her work area, and when I left, Mickey had been bare from the torso up, lying face down on the table.

I was more than happy to duck out, relieved to make my getaway while Melia was otherwise occupied. Although I hadn’t been interested in getting a drink with her, I wasn’t all that eager to go straight up to my shitty little apartment either.

I’d stayed in worse places, and smaller places, but any time I was up there, the four walls threatened to close around me. It wasn’t a pleasant sensation, and I’d already taken to spending as little time there as possible.

My mind drifted to the house where Briar lived—a home. That’s what she had—a home. It had been a long time since I’d had anything that felt remotely like a real home. It was weird to realize I sort of missed having someplace that really felt like mine. Up until the past week, I would have laughed at the idea, but things had up and changed on me.

I didn’t have to think about what had caused the change.

Briar.

It all boiled down to Briar and the shit she had managed to stir up in me, all with a quiet look and slow smile.

She wasn’t like the kind of women I normally went after. At all. Everything about her was different…unique, and not just because she had a degree or made me want things I hadn’t wanted in a long while. Things like lying in bed behind her, just feeling the slow rhythm of her breathing or losing myself in the scent of her hair.

“Stop thinking about her, ya dumb fool,” I told myself as I hit the sidewalks and started to walk. The tattoo parlor wasn’t in the nicest area of town, but it wasn’t really the roughest either. Since arriving in Philadelphia, I’d done some digging around and exploring, wanting to know the territory around me.

I picked a direction and started to walk, not at all surprised when my feet started taking me toward one of the rougher areas. I hopped on a bus after a block, and fifteen minutes later, I hopped off. The shops on the street around me had bars on the windows. A few of the places were closed, boards covering the exterior with faded for-sale signs on one or two. They were all but hidden under the graffiti.

I walked by two such buildings on my way to my destination.

It was a ragtag old building that had seen better centuries. Even when it was new, I doubted it looked like much. Now, it just looked like shit a dog had puked up.

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