Loving a Dangerous Life (editing)

One.

A/N. I'm just going to mention right now that this book does not have the beat grammar or spelling. I will eventually get to fixing it, I promise!

I groaned, reaching down to pull the knives out of the curve in the red heels I wore. As soon as the weapons were gone, I kicked the painful shoes off, letting them thud against the cabinets as they fell to the floor. I threw my hair up into a weird-ass thing, on the top of my head, sighing as I realized that I'm going to have to get off of my bathroom counter. I rubbed my eyes, jumping off of the counter and grabbing the bowl of strawberries I had brought in with me. I wandered to my room, grabbing my computer and falling onto the bed. I cracked my knuckles, open my computer, and bit a strawberry at the same time.

Boom, motherfuckers, I'm multitasking.

I logged onto the stupid-ass email that my job required me to have, groaning yet again as I saw the email from the boss, telling me I had another mission. I just got home you dick-less moron.

I scanned through the file lazily, questioning my life choices. My mission was charged with sexual assault, the murder of another mafia boss, and robbing a small community bank. Easily twenty years in prison all that- luckily he wouldn't get to fulfill that fun sentence.

Slowly, I dragged my lazy self out of bed, scanning my room to see if I had anything that I actually wanted to do. When nothing was found, I went into my closet and came out with a dress that dangled precariously off of my body. I put my weapons back on, making sure they were hidden as well as possible, and then I went into the bathroom to do my makeup. I pulled my hair up and quickly washed my face. I put on sexy eyeliner and some mascara, proud of myself for succeeding in putting the eyeliner on flawlessly the first time. I found my best red lipstick and put it on, taking my hair out of its holder and flipping a few times to give it some life. After posing in the mirror a few times and admiring my ass, I threw on my leather jacket and grabbed some thigh-high boots with about six-inch heels.

Damnnit, my feet are going to be sore if I don't get this over with quickly.

I walked out the door, sliding into my well-loved, very beat-up car. I speed out of my neighborhood and weaved between cars on the freeway. I tossed my boots into the passenger seat and pressed the gas pedal. I knew I was a reckless driver, but hey, I still look good.

I pulled up outside of the club and pulled my boots on, checking my makeup one last time. I stepped out of my car, ignoring all the stares I got. I adjusted my dress and walked through the doors of the club, throwing my keys at the valet.

"Be a good boy, and be good to the poor car." I pursed my lips at him, "She's old, but she's good." I smiled as he nodded, running off. I could've done it myself, and on normal days, I would've but I needed to get the job done today and get back in bed. I walked through the club, going directly to the bar, where I knew my mission would be. I sat next to him and turned on the charm.

"Well, you look like a lonely fella that could use some company." I smiled and flirtatiously placed my arm on his overly-developed arm. He looked at me, and his eyes slid over my body.

Ew, he's one of those men who doesn't even bother to hide the fact that he is checking me out.

He turned towards me and downed a drink. I moved closer to him and made sure that he got turned on by me. His eyes turned into lustful slits, and I almost laughed. This was going to be too easy. I got up, not even bothering to check if he was behind me. I walked into that back room, and he shoved me against the wall, pressing his body into me.

I felt nothing, no sense of fear, no excitement, no adrenaline. I was simply doing what needed to be done. It's how it always is- no emotion. I'm just getting the mission done.

I pretend to be interested in him as he kissed my collar bone. I pulled him out the back door and into the alleyway. I tackled my mission and pushed him against the wall. He grunted, elbowing me and grabbing my calf. I chuckled before pulling out my gun and shooting him between the eyes. He died quickly, like every other fucker I had to deal with. It's true that torturing your targets gives you a better reputation, but I like to save my torture for the men who personally wronged me. Plus, my reputation is pretty good already. I think it's something like, Gives great head, kills fast, is sexy... so on and so forth. Not many people know who I really am, and most of the ones that do are the ones who know that I give great head.

I walked back through the club, listening to the authoritative click of my heels on the floor as I walked. I made my way through the sweaty bodies and towards the entrance. making sure no one saw me before I walked to my car and sped off. I e-mailed the boss and told him to make sure no one knew what happened. I pulled my coat on, and sped down the freeway, back to my house. I collapsed on the bed, glad that my mission would no longer torture women. I peeled off my dress and hid my weapons for the second time tonight.

I had just killed a man. There was no way around it, I had taken something that was god-given. While I wasn't religious, I wasn't born into this world of violence. I once was young enough to believe that this world held good in it, for me. But, this world is a place filled with evil, and I am the worst.

Maybe one day, we would live in a world where there was peace between everyone...

But, I was still a killer, and nothing would change that. I crawled into my bed and stared at the ceiling for what seemed like hours. I wasn't sleeping, I wasn't thinking about my next mission or my previous missions, I was just laying there, waiting for the next day to start.

Tomorrow is my birthday. I would officially be twenty-fucking-five tomorrow. At least, I hope that's how old I am. I didn't really expect to make it this far, but whatever. Maybe tomorrow I'll get ice cream, or I'll finally finish that book I started reading. I don't really know what do to with my life.