Hit Girls: Hit Girls, #1

HIT GIRLS

by Garrett Robinson

HIT GIRLS

Copyright © 2013 by Garrett Robinson. All rights reserved.

Cover copyright © 2013 by Garrett Robinson

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, businesses, or events is purely coincidental. The author has taken great liberties with locales including the creation of fictional towns and cities.

Reproduction in whole or part of this publication without express written consent is strictly prohibited.

I greatly appreciate you taking the time to read my work. Please consider leaving a review wherever you bought this story, or telling your friends or blog readers about it.

Thank you for supporting my work.

Visit: garrettbrobinson.com

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On Twitter: @garrettrauthor

Published by Garrett Robinson

This book is dedicated to my wife, Meghan

Who makes everything possible

To my children, Dawn, Luke and Desmond

May they never have to go through what Jessie and Nikki do

To Johnny, Sean and Dave

Who told me to write

And to those who keep reading my books

You’re more fun than a barrel of crippled monkeys

AUTHOR'S NOTE

AFTER SENDING THIS BOOK OUT to test readers, enough of them urged me to include a small warning in this book that I decided to do so. Hit Girls contains scenes of extreme violence, profanity and sexual situations, which may be offensive to some readers. If that’s not your cup of tea, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

In particular, the character of Nikki bears mentioning. Nikki is a fourteen-year-old girl with an absolutely filthy mouth and a predilection for inflicting pain and death on other people. I’m sure some readers will find this disturbing. Nikki is a disturbed girl. As for why — well, you’d have to keep reading the series to find that out.

That being said, Hit Girls is a very fun story, one packed with action, thrills, death, murder and intrigue. It’s a crime drama, but at all times I’ve been more interested in having fun with the characters than crafting the perfect crime story. For that reason, if you’re a stickler for such things, some of the details may be less than completely accurate. I have done research, but I’m by no means an expert on crime investigation procedures or the inner workings of the FBI. I also don’t know how real assassins do their jobs.

But I know what I like, and I like fun, witty characters who spit out whip-smart dialogue, who cuss, who fight and who are badass. If that’s your cup of tea, I invite you to turn the page.

Garrett Robinson

2013

HIT GIRLS

1

WHAT’S WRONG, SWEETIE?

SHEILA DARLING reached out and tucked a lock of Nikki’s hair behind her ear. Nikki turned her face away. Her mom was such a mom. Ugh. Didn’t she know when Nikki wanted to be left alone?

Nothing, mom, Nikki said, sniffing heavily and trying not to let her tears be heard in the cracking of her voice. I’m fine. Go away.

Nikita Darling, you’re not fooling anyone, her mother softly chided. Come on. Is it something at school?

Mom, stop it, Nikki insisted, rolling away on her bed and standing up on the other side. I’ll be fine. It’s just a stupid thing.

Her mom looked at her knowingly and crossed her arms.

"A boy thing?"

"Stop it!" Nikki almost screamed, whirling and striding into her own bathroom. It was the only room that was all hers and had a lock on the door. She threw it and sat down on the counter, folding her arms and glaring at the door.

Her mom was right — of course. She was always right. Chad was the hottest guy at school. He’d be going to high school next year. And Nikki had been in his classes for two years, and staring at him all the time. She’d done everything but throw herself at his feet and profess her undying love. Something she’d very nearly considered once or twice, since Chad continued to completely ignore her.

The handle of the bathroom door jiggled a little. Come on, Nikki, came her mom’s voice. I’ll stop asking you about it. Just come out.

Nikki rolled her eyes and pushed herself off the counter, opening the door. She stepped outside and looked at her mother with narrowed eyes.

Promise?

Cross my heart and hope to die, her mom said. Now come downstairs. There were girl scouts selling cookies when I went to the store, and I got your favorite.

Thin mints? Nikki squealed. "Oh my God, that sounds so good right now!"

Careful you don’t eat too many, her mom laughed, brushing her hair back again. Nikki moved her head away. She hated that. Pretty soon your body’s not going to deal with sugar as well as it does now. You don’t want to get fat.

"You think I’m fat?" Nikki cried in horror, turning to look at herself in her bathroom mirror.

Not yet, you’re not, said her mom with a smile. But let’s munch some cookies together and you can work on it.

Never mind, Nikki said, rubbing her arms as though taken with a chill. I’m not that hungry.

"Nikki, come on, her mother said, grabbing Nikki and guiding her to the bedroom door. I was only teasing."

"If I break out, it’s your fault," Nikki muttered. But she let herself be guided down to the kitchen, where her mom broke a green box of cookies out of the freezer.

Nikki had just dunked her fourth cookie in milk when the kitchen door swung open with a squeak, and her father came in. His face was serious, but it lightened as he saw her.

Hey, Nik, he said, coming over to give her a quick side hug and a kiss on the head. Nikki pretended not to care, but she leaned in to catch a whiff of her dad’s unique smell: a warm, pleasant combination of leather, sweat, cigar smoke and something else, an unidentifiable scent that was uniquely his. Nikki had always thought that that was what love had to smell like.

Did you have a good day at school? he asked her as he went over to give her mom a peck on the cheek. Ugh. Gross.

Of course, said Nikki, averting her eyes as her mom gave him a kiss back.

Great, he said, seeming distracted. Mind going upstairs? Your mom and I have to talk about something.

Nikki glanced up at him, puzzled. Everything okay?

He smiled, but it looked forced. Nikki felt a little hollow begin to form in the pit of her stomach.

Of course, he said. Everything’s fine. But you remember that vacation we were going to take to New Zealand?

Yeah, Nikki said uncertainly.

We might take it sooner than expected. Real soon, in fact. As soon as Jessie gets back into town next week.

Nikki’s eyes shot wide in horror. "But dad, she complained. Homecoming dance is next week. Somebody might ask me to go!"

Her dad laughed. Normally she loved the sound of it: a deep belly laugh that boomed through the kitchen. Now, however, it grated on her nerves.

"Sweetie, trust me, you’re in your first year in junior high. You have a ton of dances to look forward to. And you’re going to love New Zealand. Trust me."

Nikki was about to argue more, but then she saw her mother’s face. Her eyes were filled with worry as she stared at Joe, seemingly oblivious to Nikki’s complaining. There was something off about it. Her parents were hardly ever worried, and never this worried. She looked almost…scared.

It made Nikki shut her trap and stand up from her place at the counter. Fine, she said. But I’m taking the thin mints.

Knock yourself out, her dad said with a final, tight smile. We’ll talk more about it later, okay? After mom and I have made plans.

Okay, Nikki nodded, leaving the kitchen. She clumped heavily down the wood floors away from the kitchen, then stopped. She turned back and tiptoed silently to the edge of the kitchen doorway. She held her head as close to the opening as she dared.

What is it, Joe? her mom asked. What happened?

Things are getting bad, babe, her dad said. Nikki had never heard such concern in his voice before. Steve and the Alfarsis are at each other’s throats. The Roths, too. There’s no way we won’t end up in the middle.

They still need us though, right? her mom said, her voice almost a plea. They all do. We’re neutral. We just do business. We’ve never gotten involved.

That might not matter, her dad said. Nikki heard a rustle as he stood up, and almost fled down the hallway. Then she heard his footsteps receding as he began to pace, and she relaxed. The rumors I’m hearing…everyone’s looking for a way to get the upper hand on everyone else. And we’re connected to Steve, personally as well as professionally. They might not touch Steve’s family, but…

No, no, God, no, her mother moaned, her voice shaking. She sounded like she was about to cry. The girls?

I don’t know, Steve said, shaking his head. Maybe. Maybe us. There’s no way to tell. We’ve got to step up the New Zealand plan. Now.

Jessie still doesn’t agree with it.

She’ll have to. Or else…

Don’t.

We might have to —

"We will not! her mom cried out. Nikki jumped, almost squeaking in fright. Her mom never yelled. It hit her ears like a whip. We’re not going anywhere without her. She’s our daughter."

Honestly, sweetie, she can take perfectly good care of herself, her dad pointed out. She’s probably safer alone than with us. Less to take care of.

It’s not happening, her mom insisted. End of story.

There was a long sigh from her dad. All right, fine, he conceded. But we’ve got —

There was a sudden crash from the front of the house.

It sounded like a window being broken.

Nikki whirled toward the noise, though it was too far away and around too many corners for her to see. Inside the kitchen, both of her parents had gone silent.

Her blood pounded in her ears. Her knees were shaking so badly they were knocking against each other, and she had to fight not to pee in her pants.

She couldn’t take it any more. She ran into the kitchen, now heedless of secrecy, and flung herself into her father’s arms.

Daddy! she whispered. I heard someone in the house.

Nikita, go to your room, he said. There was a steely tone in his voice she’d never heard before.

I’m not going by myself! she hissed, clinging to him, looking up into his face. But he didn’t look back down at her. His eyes were to the front of the house.

Suddenly hands clutched her shoulders, pulling her from him. The sudden contact made her jump, but it was only her mother.

"Nikki, go, she said, her cheeks wet and her normally perfect mascara tracing crooked lines down her face. Quickly. Now."

Mommy? Nikki asked, all pretense of being mature and aloof abandoned in the wake of the sheer terror coursing its way through her system.

I love you, baby, her mom said, clutching Nikki to her chest and whispering into her ear. Take the back stairs up. Do not come down. No matter what. Daddy and I will be fine, but we need to know you’re safe upstairs. Do you understand?

Though she didn’t know why, Nikki burst into silent tears. Her face was drenched with them in an instant.

I want to stay with you, she pleaded.

Her father wrapped her in an embrace as well. Your mom’s right, he said. We’ll be fine. But I can’t take care of her if you’re here. Run upstairs, sweetie.

Nikki clutched at his jacket one more time, inhaling the smell of his love, and ran.

She leapt into her room, then into the bathroom, and threw the lock on the door. Then she climbed into her bathtub, trying to be quieter than a mouse, and drew the curtain to conceal herself.

She wrapped her hands around her arms and waited.

Her breath came in gasps, but she kept them silent.

Every limb was vibrating. She couldn’t still them.

Tears wouldn’t stop falling, but she kept her sobs from making more noise than a faint whisper.

Downstairs came a shout, and then the ring of a gunshot. Nikki lost all control of her bladder, peeing herself in the white porcelain tub. A brief shriek erupted, and then another gunshot. Nikki felt the warmth in her groin and legs cool, then turn to a chill as her piss turned cold in the chilly bathroom.

The tears sprang up anew.

The house was silent now.

They’d told her to wait.

She’d wait.

They’d be fine.

They’d told her they’d be fine.

All she had to do was wait.

***

She waited in the tub for eight hours. Then she heard sirens, and footsteps, and shouting in the house. Still she sat, silent. All her tears were gone now. She had none left to cry. All she could do was wait. Wait for someone to come. Come and save her. Come and kill her.

Wait.

Finally there was a rattle as someone tried the doorknob. The lock held firm. On the other side, a man’s powerful voice barked a command. She didn’t hear it. Couldn’t understand.

He kicked the door open and stepped in. On the other side of the shower curtain, Nikki sat still. She didn’t look toward the noise as he walked to the tub. Didn’t look up as he pulled back the curtain, his weapon drawn and pointing at her. He withdrew it in an instant, and reached down to grasp her arm, pulling her from the tub. She didn’t push herself up. Didn’t resist his grip. She was just…limp.

Waiting.

Another officer entered the bathroom, a woman. She threw a blanket around Nikki’s shoulders. Nikki didn’t realize till it was there how cold she’d been. But she didn’t say thank you. Didn’t look at the blanket.

She was waiting. These people weren’t her parents.

Her parents had told her to wait.

They’d come for her.

She allowed herself to be led downstairs and out the front door.

And as she passed the living room, she saw that her parents would not come for her. They would not be fine. They would never be fine again.

Neither would Nikki.

She’d thought she had no more tears to cry. But she did. They fell. A horrible, keening wail built in her chest, then snuck up through her throat, then poured from her mouth. She collapsed on the floor of her family’s front hall, thrashing on the ground, still wrapped up in the blanket, as police tried to lift her back up, to control her, to help her.

They couldn’t help her.

Just like her parents couldn’t.

Like they never would again.

2

THREE YEARS LATER

JESSIE SWUNG open the front door of the office building, holding it for Nikki. Nikki glared at her from under her long, curly brown hair and stuck out her tongue. Jessie smiled a tight, thin smile in response, waiting until Nikki finally walked through before following her.

The reception area was new-age through and through, looking as though it was trying too hard to look cool. Jessie figured the rest of the building shared the decor. Offices these days were always like that, worrying more about how they appeared to people than how good their product was. Above the receptionist’s desk was the company logo: Money Shots. Jessie’s lip curled.

For a place obsessed with appearances, they could have chosen a more polite person to man the front desk. As Jessie and Nikki approached, the receptionist looked up at them from her too-typical Deschanel haircut, the drooping affair with the bangs that annoyed the shit out of Jessie. The girl was surly as she stared at them, smacking the gum she was chewing extra loud as if she knew how much Jessie hated that. Jessie forced herself to ignore the hair and the gum and leaned on the desk, wrapping her hands around her arms and flipping her hair over her shoulder. Jessie’s blonde was straight from a bottle, but well enough done that it fooled all but the most discerning. Her lips spread in a smile full of cheer and promise.

Hi, doll. My sister’s here for her head shots. We had a three o’clock with Veronica? Jessie’s thick southern accent poured from her red lips like honey.

Gum-smack stared at Nikki, cocking an eyebrow. How old is she?

Fourteen, Jessie said quickly, sensing Nikki seething at her side. We’re obviously not here for adult shots.

Anywhere in L.A. you could go, and you come here? said Gum-smack, making it clear what she thought of Jessie’s choice.

The price is right, Jessie said with a thin smile, deciding to ignore her initial impulse to ask the girl why she was working at Money Shots if it was such a scum hole. Could you tell Veronica we’re here?

Don’t think she’s in, she drawled, mocking Jessie’s accent with one of her own.

Maybe you should pick up your little phone and check, Nikki butted in, leaning on the counter and smiling acidly. If you’re not too busy filing your chipped-ass nails and reading your, — she leaned over the counter — MySpace. Holy shit, are you the only person who still uses that crappy ass website?

Gum-smack leaned away from Nikki uneasily, eyeing her furtively as most people did when she opened her mouth.

Nikki, said Jessie pleasantly, though there was plenty of unpleasantness in the daggers she stared at her little sister, why don’t you sit down?

Because I’ve been sitting in a goddamned car for enough time to watch three of the pornos this shit agency’s clients churn out every day, Nikki said, looking at Jessie nonplussed. I’m done with sitting, and I’m bored.

Nikki, Jessie grated. Sit.

Nikki snorted, then turned and sat in one of the chairs in the reception area, snatching a magazine up and burying her nose in it.

Jessie turned back to Gum-smack, trying to smile pleasantly again. It was hard when a part of her shared Nikki’s frustration at the uppity tramp.

Now, she said. Could you check and see if Veronica is here?

Gum-smack eyed her insolently. Pretty sure she’s not.

I had an appointment.

And she’s terrible at keeping them.

Could you please just —

I’d sit, if I were you. She should come in before too long, and then you can take it up with her yourself. Gum-smack turned away from Jessie and resumed perusing her MySpace page.

Jessie sighed, looking to the heavens and praying for patience, then turned and strode over to sit beside Nikki.

You should have let me keep talking, Nikki said. I would have gotten that dumb bitch to let us in.

Maybe, Jessie admitted, but you would have caught her attention. More than you already did, I mean.

I don’t even know why we’re here, Nikki said sullenly. This fucktard doesn’t have anything to do with —

Shhh, Jessie said, putting a comforting hand on Nikki’s knee. It was never good to let her go down that line of conversation. Despite Nikki’s ice-cold exterior, she was still only fourteen, and not too old for tears.

Whatever. Let me know when the fun starts, said Nikki. And we’re getting burgers after this.

Jessie stared at her, feeling sorry and a little guilty to hear her call what they did fun. She was sick of going through this all the time, of feeling bad for the line of work she’d pulled Nikki into. But she couldn’t stop her guilty thoughts; after all, it was her fault.

I told you we should have set up shots for you, not me, Nikki said. You look like a porn star anyway.

Jessie smirked. I told you why we didn’t. Besides, you look like a model. You’ve got dad’s height.

Yeah, and you got his boobs.

Jessie barked out a laugh, making Gum-smack look up at them. Jessie gave a little wave. Gum-smack rolled her eyes and dived into the computer again. After she looked away, Nikki’s middle fingers leapt to full mast.

Stop that! Jessie chided gently, pushing Nikki’s hands down.

Just then the bell on the front door dinged, and it swung open. Two men strode in. One of them was tall, with long brown hair and a goatee. He was wearing, of all things, a cowboy hat, and he looked as though years had taught him more than the younger man with him had ever forgotten. The younger man wore a leather jacket and a piercing look. His eyes roved over the reception, pausing for longer than was proper on Jessie before turning back to his companion as they approached the reception desk.

Everything about the men screamed at Jessie’s senses. She wasn’t sure the exact shape of them, but she knew in half a second that both of the men had badges.

Fuck balls, said Nikki.

Yep, drawled Jessie.

3

OF ALL THE CLICHÉ BULLSHIT in the world, they gotta toss me this, thought Ray.

The source of Ray’s consternation sat languidly in the front passenger’s seat of Ray’s old black Crown Vic. Lance had his feet up on the dashboard and his seat almost fully reclined, typing furiously on the phone he held in his hands. The phone was huge, but flat, thin and light, halfway in between a proper phone and one of those new iPad type things that Ray didn’t understand and didn’t plan to. Ray had always thought technology was meant to get smaller and smaller, but then after phones got so small you could barely see them any more, suddenly everything blew up again.

You mind putting your feet down? Ray asked amiably.

Having them up helps me think, said Lance. Third day in, and the guy was starting to get on Ray’s nerves.

"What are