THE HIT MOM Read online

  K. Marie

  THE HIT MOM

  First published by Emerald Heart Publications 2020

  Copyright © 2020 by K. Marie

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  K. Marie asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

  First edition

  This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy

  Find out more at reedsy.com

  “Life’s hardest choices are the ones that force you to question your own moral code.”

  Shay Patrick Cormac

  Contents

  Acknowledgement

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by K. Marie

  Acknowledgement

  The author may write the story, but it is never a solo endeavor. Since the release of my first book, Wreckless Engagement, I have been honored to have had the support of some truly wonderful people. This book couldn’t have happened without their continued support and encouragement. Or the continued support of my husband and children. So, to my squad, and you know who you are, I would like to say THANK YOU from every inch of my heart.

  And as always, I am eternally grateful to my readers. For without you, my words would fall on deaf ears. Thank you for your support. I hope you fall in love with the characters in this book as much as I have.

  Prologue

  Harmony

  It was unseasonably warm for late October in southern California, but today seemed a day like any other. The sun shone brightly in the east, while a breeze feathered gently across my skin, carrying with it the earthy perfume of fall.

  In the distance, street traffic hummed along at a steady pace, while the occasional tinkle of laughter, or the wail of a cry, pierced the relative quiet around me. But my eyes stayed trained on the figure up ahead.

  I moved along the energetic walking path of Edgewater Park carrying a large tote in one hand and clutching a child-sized palm in the other. To the casual observer, I was just one of the crew; another overworked and under-appreciated mom who sought a couple of hours outside the systematic prison that we called home.

  Others might’ve judged me as the world’s worst mother, but not those who greeted me with warm, welcoming smiles as I strolled casually by. Here, I belonged, I fit right in with my black well-worn yoga pants, athletic jacket, and three-year-old Nikes.

  I was an empathetic creature who gets it. I too, rose each morning to daily complaints from sullen children who lamented the necessity of attending school. I was also a slave to endless loads of laundry, meal preparations, cleaning up after others, and the dreaded car-pool. It felt nice to fit in somewhere—to be an accepted member of a clan I’d secretly termed, The League of Martyrs.

  But today, unbeknownst to them, I was probably their worst nightmare.

  Yes, it seemed a day like any other. Except for me, it served as yet another test, as well as a grotesque reminder of the high price I’ve had to pay for my very life.

  “Can I do it now, mommy?” asked Teddy, impatient to let loose with his new toy. It was a high-tech drone that was far too expensive to have been gifted to a child.

  “Just a little further, sweetheart, I promise,” I told the toddler, keeping my eyes on the target.

  My son predictably groaned his disapproval.

  Up ahead, the man I had been tracking finally slowed to a stop in front of a well-worn park bench. After removing an old hankie from his pants pocket, he wiped the space clean before taking a seat. It was a routine, the same one I’d seen him perform the past two days.

  Every day at precisely noon, Henry L. Weiss; an unethical local politician, took his lunch break in the park located almost two blocks from his office. I looked on as he opened the crinkled brown paper bag that he always carried and pulled out a sandwich of unknown composition.

  “Okay Teddy, we can do it here,” I told my son, pointing to a patch of grass about fifteen feet away.

  “Yay!” he cheered loudly, running ahead of me.

  Today’s outing served two purposes, an opportunity for Teddy to try out his new toy, as well as the completion of a job for me. Yes, I brought my son to work with me. Don’t judge—you have no idea the shit I’ve been through.

  To the casual observer, we were just a harmless mother and son out enjoying a beautiful day in the park. When in truth, I was probably the most dangerous thing out here.

  “Let’s get this baby set up!” I told Teddy, reaching into the floral bag for the drone.

  “Let me do it! I won’t break it, I promise!” he pleaded, hopping from foot-to-foot in anticipation, his enthusiasm contagious.

  The Quadcopter drone; an exorbitantly expensive gift, had been gifted to Teddy by his Uncle K. But Uncle K never did anything without strings attached. So, of course, this gift had been meant to serve a dual purpose.

  Real fucking thoughtful of him.

  “We’re all set!” I announced, unfolding the gadget and setting it up for flight. “Grab the remote and let’s get this baby in the air!”

  The Quadcopter could fly up to 60 mph and be controlled from as far away as four miles.

  “Okay, here we go! Place your hands here, and then use your thumbs to move the controls,” I instructed my son.

  I had already tried the drone out three days ago, but it was Teddy’s first time using it so I demonstrated for him, then stepped back to watch as he worked his magic. Teddy was an intelligent child, wise beyond his four years. I always joked that he was once a God in another life and that that explained his old soul.

  “It’s flying!” Teddy shouted, jumping up and down excitedly.

  “Steady, little one, you’ve got to keep it steady so that it doesn’t crash,” I cautioned.

  “Can I make it go faster?” he asked.

  “Yes, but only a little, you must learn to control it before you start breaking speed laws,” I joked.

  As the drone moved drunkenly through the air, I divided my attention between it and the target. Weiss usually stayed in the park for only half an hour before returning to the office—using the other half-ho
ur of his break for travel time.

  “That’s it, keep it steady!” I called out, wincing when the Quadcopter narrowly missed a large tree branch.

  I let Teddy fly the drone another couple of minutes before it was my turn. I needed to get the job done before Weiss packed up for the day.

  “Aw, can’t I do it longer?” he asked, face a study in disappointment.

  I gave a wry smile, knowing he strategically used the sad puppy-dog face to get his way. And it usually worked. “I’m going to show you how it’s done, youngster, then you can give it another try. How’s that?” I offered.

  “Yes!” he shouted in answer, the puppy-dog face instantly vanishing.

  I took over the controls, maneuvering the drone in Weiss’s direction, then flying it a little higher than Teddy had.

  “Whoa! Look at it go!” my son squealed excitedly.

  I took the drone past Weiss a couple of times, recording as it went and snapping several still-shots. Then I sent it flying in the opposite direction before bringing it back toward him again. But much lower this time. As it sped by, I pressed the button to release the micro-dart; rapidly propelling it twenty-five feet through the air and into Weiss’s neck.

  Bullseye.

  His hand went flying to his neck, swatting at the dart, the sting probably much like that of a bee’s.

  As I sped up the return flight of the drone; wanting it out of the vicinity as quickly as possible, I saw Weiss finger the dart, realizing there was something stuck in his neck, then he pulled it out and stared at it in puzzlement. The micro-dart was little more than that of a pushpin in size but deceptively lethal. It had already released a fatal dose of a compound that wouldn’t take its full effect for several hours.

  His would be a gradual but horrible death.

  “Okay little one, you’re up again,” I told Teddy, bringing the drone back into range.

  “Can I fly it high too?” he asked with a hopeful look on his adorable face.

  “Just a little higher, I don’t want it getting stuck in the trees,” I allowed.

  After a moment, I focused my attention back on Weiss and became aware that Teddy and I had drawn a small audience. Several people were standing around watching the flight of the drone. Time to go.

  The last thing I needed was any of these people remembering my face.

  “Okay munchkin, it’s time to end flight lessons for today,” I told my son, moving to grab the tote.

  I quickly packed the drone away and felt a sense of relief when the onlookers started to disperse, no longer having anything left to gawk at.

  “Can we do it again tomorrow?” asked Teddy.

  “We’ll see, it depends on the weather,” I lied. I had no intention of ever returning here.

  It was a necessary lie, of course. But then, I had been lying to my son his entire short life. It was safer that way.

  Chapter 1

  Harmony

  4 Years Ago

  “The big card game is tonight, Harm, if I don’t catch a few hours of sleep I’ll be no good and will blow it,” Wes complained, pulling the gray t-shirt over his head before unbuttoning his jeans.

  I stood on the other side of the room glaring at him, yet again disappointed, as he prepared to get into bed after being out all night long. Though, the only person I should have been disappointed in was myself.

  When would I stop expecting him to one day miraculously awaken a mature, responsible adult?

  “This is important, Wes! You had an excuse the last time—you’ve known about this appointment for two weeks now!” I snapped in irritation.

  “I didn’t know two weeks ago, that the game would be scheduled for today. Come on, Harm, I’ll make it up to you. I swear,” Wes cajoled, flashing his tired-ass used-to-be-charming smile.

  It had lost its charm about two years ago.

  “Fuck it, Wes! If you can’t sacrifice one hour’s sleep for something important, then screw you!” I yelled, spinning on my heel and storming out the room in anger.

  Why I continued to let his selfish ways affect me, I couldn’t understand. Wes could be sweet when he wanted, but he ultimately only ever did what was best for him. I knew that. Yet, here I was, five-months pregnant with his child, when I should have been done with him two years ago after he cheated on me.

  I was a complete idiot!

  Though, deep down, I knew why I’d stayed. I was an only child who had been raised by an unreliable single mother that could barely look after herself. I had never met my father, both my maternal grandparents had passed away by the time I was eighteen, and I had no other family that I was aware of. So other than my friend Amanda, I guess I felt Wes was all I had.

  After meeting him at age seventeen, he quickly became my world. We were both the product of broken homes and shitty parenting. Like me, Wes had been fending for himself since his early teens and was street smart and a hustler; he’d taught me the ropes of playing cards for money and how to survive out on the streets.

  They were charming, admirable qualities back then, but not now. We were about to become parents and only one of us seemed to have matured into an adult.

  Wes could go to hell!

  Beyond pissed, I snatched my purse and car keys off the kitchen table and stomped toward the front door. It was my goal to make the maximum amount of noise, but unfortunately, the small house on Pied Street was only a minute big so it didn’t take long to trek across the room.

  But after ripping the door open, I pulled-up short at the sight of two men standing on the porch. Both were large, hulking, and menacing-looking! A lurch of fright had my heart slamming forcefully inside my chest.

  While I stood dumbly staring, one of the men pulled open the screen door and all but pushed me out of the way as they barged inside uninvited.

  “Hey! What is this? You can’t just barge in here like that!” I shouted in protest.

  “Where is Wes?” the man in the gray suit asked coolly, ignoring my protests.

  “Who in the hell are you?” I demanded hotly, using outrage to cover my unease.

  I screeched in pain a second later when the man fisted a handful of my hair in a move so quick I didn’t see it coming. “Where the fuck is he?!” Gray-suit barked menacingly.

  “Wes!” I screamed, wincing in pain as the man’s hold tightened. But I damn near peed myself when the other man pulled out a gun.

  “Wes!!!” I screamed again, this time in terror.

  “What the fuck, Harm…” Wes’s voice trailed off as he came into the room, the scowl on his face quickly dissolving into a look of surprise.

  “Where are they?” the man holding the gun asked, aiming it at Wes.

  “Whoa, what is this about? There must be some mistake,” said Wes, holding both his hands up in a placating manner.

  He bellowed a second later when the man took aim at his foot and fired.

  I screamed, causing gray-suit to give my hair a cruel, painful yank.

  “Son of a bitch!” Wes cried, still standing but hobbling around on one foot.

  “You’ve got ten seconds to tell me where the diamonds are! Did you think it would go unnoticed that five of them had been switched with fakes, you moron?” snarled the man with the gun.

  “Look, I-I can explain, it’s just a misunderstanding!” cried Wes.

  The man with the gun abruptly pivoted and aimed the weapon at my head. “There is no misunderstanding, asshole. You were paid to do a job, not help yourself to what didn’t belong to you. If you don’t find those diamonds in the next ten seconds, your pretty girlfriend’s brains will be decorating this room.”

  I whimpered, my legs shaking so badly they were threatening to give out from under me.

  “Okay! Jesus, just wait a damn minute!” Wes cried, hobbling around and bleeding from his foot. “It wasn’t me—I swear, but I know where they are.”

  What has Wes done? I thought with a sinking heart, tears streaming down my face. Wes was always running a scheme—being continually reckle
ss and playing the odds. He was a natural risk-taker who had gotten away with way more than not. Only this time, it looked like he’d finally gone too far.

  “Nine, eight, seven…” the man with the gun counted down.

  “Wait! I’m getting them right now!” Wes shouted, the telling tremor in his voice making me cry even harder.

  Because if Wes was scared, this didn’t bode well for either of us. He was typically too damn heedless and bold to be frightened of anything.

  With tears blurring my vision, I watched Wes hobble over to the refrigerator and open the freezer. After reaching inside, his hand came back out with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Chunky Monkey, my favorite ice cream. Then a sense of dread flooded my body when he removed the top from the carton and pulled out a small clear bag with something white inside of it.

  “Oh God, Wes…what have you done?” I sobbed in horror.

  “Th-they’re all here,” Wes said shakily, holding up the small bag as proof of his claim.

  “Show them to me,” demanded the man with the gun.

  “They’re all here! Let her go and they’re yours,” Wes pleaded.

  He yowled as another bullet pierced his flesh—this time on the other foot, causing his legs to collapse and for him to crash down onto the wooden floor.

  “Wes!!” I screamed, attempting to run to him, but was pulled roughly back by my hair again.

  “You don’t get to set terms, asshole!” the man with the gun barked, walking over to where Wes now laid bleeding.

  He reached down and ripped the plastic bag from Wes’s hand, then opened it up and pulled out what looked to be a small, white pouch. After untying the drawstring and looking inside, the man with the gun must have been satisfied with what he saw because he closed the pouch back and shoved it into his pants pocket.

  “Only a moron would steal from the boss, or else, a man with a death wish,” said the man with the gun, raising the weapon and pointing it at Wes.

  “Noooo!” I screamed in terror, struggling to free myself from gray-suit despite the pain shooting through my scalp.