Dirty Angels 02:Dirty Deeds

By: Karina Halle

About the Book


Beautiful Mexican air hostess Alana Bernal is accustomed to men falling at her feet. And with her messed-up family, she’s used to tragedy following her around. But she’s never experienced love – real, rip-your-heart-out, all-consuming love. That’s until she meets Derek Conway – a hard-bodied American ex-soldier with steely eyes and a commanding presence.



A chance encounter in Puerto Vallarta, and a weekend of hot sex and mindless passion, leads to something more – something deadly. Because Derek isn’t the type of man to fall in love, or stick around. And he’s not in Mexico for a holiday.

He’s a heartless killer-for-hire who does ugly jobs for the highest bidder. And for Alana and Derek, the highest bidder has the power to bring their world crashing down around them. The highest bidder can destroy everything.





CHAPTER ONE





The call came at 6:30 a.m. from a voice I recognized but couldn’t place. The fact that it sounded familiar was surprising, though. The turnover rate for these guys was exceedingly high. They were shuffled around to different sicarios like a game of musical chairs. Sometimes I wondered if the ones giving me the orders – the narcos just underneath the bosses – ever lasted more than a few weeks. Did they go on to have long careers doing the dirty work of the patrons? Or were they so good at getting the job done that they were employed for a long time, even promoted, just like any assistant manager at McDonald’s?

It didn’t really matter. I took these calls, I carried out the orders, and I got paid. I was at the bottom of their food chain, but as long as I wasn’t tied to just one cartel then I didn’t have to worry about long-term security. You didn’t want long-term security when working for the narcos. You wanted to stay as distant – as freelance – as possible. You wanted a way out, in case you ever had a change of heart.

That was unlikely for me. But I was still a bit of a commitment-phobe. Freedom meant everything, and in this game, freedom meant safety.

The girl next to me in bed moaned at the early intrusion, pulling the pillow over her head. She looked ridiculous considering she was completely naked on top of the sheets. Was it Sarah? Kara? I couldn’t recall. She was so drunk last night that I was amazed she even made it to my hotel room. Then again, that’s why I was in Cancun. I could pretend to be like everyone else, just another dumb tourist on the beach.

I took the phone into the bathroom and closed the door.

“Yes,” I answered, keeping my voice low.

“I have a job for you,” the man on the other line said. His English was pretty much perfect but relaxed, almost jovial. Sometimes they gave me orders in Spanish, sometimes in English. I felt like this man was trying to extend a courtesy.

“I assume I’ve worked for you before,” I said.

“For me?” the man asked. “No. For my boss? Yes. Many times. But this has nothing to do with him. Let’s just say this is coming from a whole new place.”

None of that concerned me. “Tell me about payment.”

He chuckled. “Don’t you want to hear about the job?”

“It doesn’t matter. The price does.”

“One hundred thousand dollars, U.S., all cash. Fifty now, fifty upon completion.”

That made me pause. My heart kicked up. “That’s a lot of money.”

“It’s an important job,” the man said simply.

“And what is the job?”

“It’s a woman,” he said. “In Puerto Vallarta. She should be very easy to find for someone like you.”

“I need a name and I need her photo,” I told him. Though the price was quite higher than normal, the man was ignoring the basics. It made me wonder if he had ever done this before. It made me wonder a lot of things.

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