Memoirs of a Retired Assassin (Trilogy Bundle) (Romantic Suspense) by Hart Melissa F

Author:Hart, Melissa F.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romantic suspense, suspense, romantic thriller, romance suspense, thriller romance, suspense romance, love suspense
Publisher: Melissa F. Hart

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Chapter Three

After a strong argument and head-splitting negotiation, I managed to get John to agree to letting me leave his mansion to go exploring for a little while. He gave me an old car his parents once drove when they had just moved to New Orleans almost thirty years ago. He meant it as a joke and really was planning on loaning me his Mercedes, but I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction, so I took the old pickup truck and raced off.

As I sat at the first light after turning off the small dirt road, I stared at the faded leather that covered the wheel of John's old car. My heart rate increased, as I struggled to force all the memories out of my head. I quickly lost the battle and found myself descending into a nearly uncontrollable reminiscing fest. It was as if everything I had ever suppressed from the first eighteen years of my life came erupting out of the cells I had locked them in.

I was a child, probably no older than ten, sitting in the bed of a red truck John's parents had abandoned. My short black hair bounced up and down as Bill, the old butler, raced down the small dirt path. Wind and small particles of mud rustled through my hair, leaving me soiled by the time we had reached the main road. I squinted my eyes against the relentless afternoon sun, glowering at John. A mischievous smile spread across his face as Billy slowed the car to a stop at a red light. He began to count down from ten and even though I had no idea what he would do when he reached zero, I counted with him.

Ten seconds later, we had climbed over the side of the bed and were flying through the air. A scream that was one part frightened and two parts amused escaped my lips as we landed on the asphalt with a thud and immediately raced off. Sweat pooled around my armpits. The screams and horns that followed us only made us laugh harder and harder.

“Where are we going?” I screamed ahead to John.

“You'll see!” he screamed back.

Sure enough, I began to smell the salt water that was Lake Ponchartrain. We came up the side road next to the large French church where I was baptized, haphazardly crossed the street and ran through the pastry shop my dad took me to for hot chocolate every Sunday. Finally, we reached a dark concrete wall. As I stared at the rushing water, taking in the angry waves and wet sand, I hesitated.

John sensed my hesitation almost immediately. “What's wrong?”

I shook my head, opening my mouth to speak but unable to find the right words.

He just flashed an encouraging smile and reached out a hand. “It's going to be fun. You'll see!” he exclaimed.

“But what if we get in trouble?” I asked.

His brow furrowed as he wondered why the hell I even cared about getting in trouble. He eventually settled with, “So what?” as a response.

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