Karma planed to never kill anyone again.
She was going to leave the group of assassins she thought of as family, and never look back.
However, to save her step-brother she would have to take one last job.
For this hit she would need an extra gun...
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*Chapter 3 (Next half) *
The hair on the back of Karma's neck stood on end. A voice that was chillingly familiar caused her to straightened her spine. Turning around slowly, Karma faced her enemy. It was a real testament to how tired she was that not only had she not heard him approach, but she'd also forgotten to hide the boat and reset the traps. She kicked herself for her brainless actions, but she didn't have time to dwell on mistakes.
Karma regarded the two men standing next to the tall figure in the center of the doorway. She eyed the shorter men speculatively. They weren't the immediate threat. Her full attention needed to stay on Fletcher.
Fletcher Davis was as perfect as always. He was exactly as she remembered. The man was tall and elegant with unblemished black skin and beautiful straight white teeth.
Carefully, Karma inched her hand toward the gun nestled along her spine. Fletcher gave a bright smile because he had her trapped. There was no point in pretending otherwise. He moved with casual grace an inch closer. Karma watched him warily. She always thought it was a shame that a man with the face of an angel had the soul of the devil.
Fletcher flashed another mock smile and slapped at his dark chocolate-colored skin as if to kill a bug. The move was to show her what he thought of where she'd ended up. Again, Karma was reminded of how immaculate he was. She must look like a lost waif from the Mexican border.
"Really, Karma, I'm stunned to see you living here. You truly must be in love to stay in such trash." Fletcher's eyes raked her stepbrother. "I guess some people truly get what they deserve, but I'm sure you've heard that before. What goes around comes around, right?"
The smile drained from his face. He ran his right hand through his short, shiny black hair. Karma recognized that action. Skillfully, she glided in front of Tad. She waited for Fletcher's next maneuver. It was always the same. Now he would pull his weapon.
Karma didn't have long to wait. She pulled her own handgun as fast, but still found herself looking down the barrel of Fletcher's .45. She kept her hand steady and tightened her grip on her own .22 Magnum revolver. The other men in the room produced their weapons, but she dismissed them. She kept her focus on Fletcher.
"You know, you're getting awfully repetitive in your old age. You should learn some new moves."
Fletcher smirked. He lowered his gun from pointing at her forehead to aiming at her middle. It was better than before. Her barb at his age had the effect she wanted. He was only thirty-four, but she always pointed out he was older than her, even if it was only a handful of years. She had to keep him off balance while she came up with an escape.
"You don't like my moves? I can solve that. The position by my side still happens to be open. You could come back and teach me all the moves you want. I always did think it was a shame that you and I weren't screwing. I know your dad would've loved to have us together." Fletcher paused. "We could've ruled the world."
