Tia Louise's Blog: ONE TO BLOG - Posts Tagged "hit-girl"

EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT
HIT GIRL
By Tia Louise
© TLM Productions LLC, 2018

Molly

I realize it’s Shooter, and I scoot back again, on my guard. Our eyes lock, but she’s unarmed. She’s not here to hurt me. Still, I watch her. My hunger is momentarily abated, and I’m ready if she tries anything.

“Why are you doing this?” I ask.

She shrugs, stepping to the side and looking around my small prison. “We’re the same. We’re killers, hackers… I’ve watched you for years, tracked you. You’re one of the best.”

“Thank you.” It’s a tight reply. All my muscles are tense, ready to react.

“I consider myself one of the best.”

I nod, taking another bite of food. “Noted.”

Turning on her heels, she crosses her arms and faces me, frowning as if she’s trying to figure out a complex problem. “Why did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Why did you kill those men? They were lowlifes, criminals with no connections, no payoff.” She takes another step, studying me. “You’re clearly smart. Why take a chance like that? Why gamble your freedom for no reward? Are you an adrenaline junkie?”

“You want to know why I didn’t just hack into a bank and steal a bunch of money. Move to Indonesia and live like a queen on an island in the south Pacific?”

“Basically, yes. You could do that.”

My eyes move from my hands clasped in my lap up my arms where tiny silver scars stripe my skin. “Being a hacker didn’t come first for me. I became a hacker so I could find the men who raped me when I was thirteen.”

Shooter’s arms move. She tightens them higher over her chest, but she doesn’t interrupt me. She wants me to keep going, so I do.

“We ran away from New Orleans to escape our abusers. We ran all the way to France… but I couldn’t escape what happened to me. I couldn’t remember the details, but the feelings would bubble up. They would rise to the surface of my skin and burn until I let them out.” Shooter is the first person I’ve spoken to so plainly about why I cut my skin. I never told Joshua. I never even told Stas…

“Killing helped you to stop?”

“Stas… the old man helped me stop. He taught me to meditate. He taught me to confront the feelings and name them, give them a place, and let them go. He taught me self-defense, so I would never be a victim again.”

She’s thinking about what I’m saying. Her heels make sharp clicking sounds as she paces the concrete floor. “But it wasn’t enough. Meditation, self-defense, they weren’t enough.”

“I guess I’m not as enlightened as I ought to be. The only way I could stop feeling their hands on my skin, their breath on my neck, was to make them stop breathing altogether.”

You could hear a pin drop it’s so quiet in the room. It’s not an uncomfortable silence. It’s more a respectful silence. The silence of two people who kill for a living acknowledging their truths.

“My little sister was shot in the head at a bus stop. She was on her way to school, second grade, and some drug dealer wanted to send a message. Annie just happened to be in the way of his gun.”

I bend my legs, placing my hands on top of my knees. Not everyone has a reason to carry a gun, to hunt down the people who wield ultimate power over the lives of the helpless.

We do.

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“It was a long time ago.”

She goes to the door, and I wait as she slides the latch. “I didn’t tell you congratulations. I guess this adds a new layer of difficulty to your chosen profession. Or maybe it changes things.”

My voice is quiet. “It changes everything. My quest for revenge doesn’t matter anymore.”

“So you’ll walk away?”

“If I get that chance.”

She nods, and I think she’s about to leave. Instead, she hesitates. “Is there anything you’d like? Anything you want to know?”

I didn’t expect her to say this, and a thousand questions flood my mind at once. “Is anyone looking for me?”

“Not yet.”

The door opens with a jerk, and she steps out.

“Wait,” I call. “One more thing.”

She puts a foot inside my room again. “What?”

My brow furrows, and I look down. “This might not be something you can tell me. If it’s not, I understand. Renee said something… about my mother. She said she knows who she was.” Swallowing the pain in my throat I continue. “If you could tell me who I really am… It’s something I’ve always wanted to know. I’d like to know before…” I don’t know how I want to finish that sentence.

Shooter thinks about my request. “I’ll see what I can find out.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re good, Hit Girl. Your story deserves a better ending than dying alone in an underground cell.”

“Maybe I’ll get one.”

* * *
LIVE March 19~

★ ADD it on Goodreads: http://smarturl.it/HGgr

★ ORDER it on Amazon Now:
US: http://smarturl.it/HGamz
UK: http://smarturl.it/HGint
CA: http://smarturl.it/HGint
AU: http://smarturl.it/HGint
Print: http://smarturl.it/HGpbA
Signed: http://smarturl.it/SignedPBs

*FREE in Kindle Unlimited.