The Kid: A Suspense Thriller (A Reed & Billie Novel Book 3) by Dustin Stevens

Author:Dustin Stevens [Stevens, Dustin]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: Dustin Stevens
Published: 2016-09-25T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty-One

Big had referred to it as the Blood Tingle, that feeling that always came right before things started, that permeated the entire body. It was as inevitable as the outcome itself, nature’s way of sharpening the nerves, of bringing everything into clear focus.

For The Kid, the preferred term was the Scalp Itch. He could certainly see where Big had come up with Blood Tingle, though for him the feeling wasn’t quite as systemic. His hands, his feet, even his internal organs, weren’t affected. They remained completely even, as steely as his resolve, impervious to the outside world.

He could be changing his oil or checking his email or kidnapping Diedra Weston, his interworking didn’t care.

Where he always felt it was along his scalp. It began right at the nape of his neck, traveling up and outward, following his hair line, passing along his ears and over the crown of his head. From there it converged right along his brow, the entire top part of his skull itching, feeling as if it might catch fire at any moment.

When that arrived, The Kid knew game time was imminent. He knew that he was just moments away from doing something that mattered, that required every system in his body working in concert.

The Scalp Itch had not yet taken full hold, but it was just starting. The Kid could feel it arising along his hair line, just above his shoulders. It lingered in slight bursts, the sensation much the same as a foot or hand that had fallen asleep, the nerve endings writhing in anticipation.

Just as fast it dissipated, his body going through a practice run, much the same as he was.

The right corner of The Kid’s mouth twitched as he felt tingling rise and ebb, his back pressed against the dimpled stucco of the freestanding garage just outside the home of his next target. In front of him hung a heavy canopy of vines, their leaves brittle, already turned brown but not yet fallen for the winter.

Tucked behind them, he knew he was invisible to anybody that didn’t know to look for him, whether they are standing at the kitchen window less than 10 feet away or even strolling along the walkway just beyond arm’s reach.

Of all the targets thus far, this was the easiest. The schedule that was kept made gaining access painfully simple, so much so that it almost removed any amount of fun for The Kid.

The arrogance the target carried made it so that security at the home was nowhere what it should be for anybody, let alone someone in their position. It was the third time The Kid had been on the property, the spot he was now tucked away in such an obvious hide that it showed the lack of awareness the target employed.

This was the final scouting run for The Kid, a result more of his growing boredom with watching the camera than the actual need to be onsite. He didn’t expect to discover a single thing

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