In Love With An Assassin 1: An Innocence Taken

In Love With An Assassin 1: An Innocence Taken

By Michael Linen

Copyright 2015 Michael Linen

Smashwords Edition

Cover by Michael Linen

Photo by SelfPubBookCovers.com/Asha

Smashwords Edition License Notes

Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author. No part of this book may be used or displayed without the permission of the author. Any unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal, and is investigated by the FBI, and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison, and a fine of $250,000. Thank you for your support.

(WARNING: This book was written for mature adults 18 years old and older! It contains adult content, violence, strong adult language, and some sexual descriptions. Readers are advised!)

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Introduction

Chapter 1: The Story Of An Assassin

Chapter 2: Gratitude And Appreciation

Chapter 3: My Attention Captured

Chapter 4: Job Finally Completed

Chapter 5: The Latasha Affect

Chapter 6: The Date

Chapter 7: Losing Focus

Chapter 8: A Hit Gone Bad

Chapter 9: Her Best Friend

Chapter 10: Taken

Chapter 11: In Too Deep

Chapter 12: A Lust Unleashed

Chapter 13: The Confession

Chapter 14: Moving Forward

Chapter 15: The Unusual Request

Chapter 16: The Hit With A Twist

Chapter 17: A Complicated Contract

Chapter 18: In Love With An Assassin

Chapter 19: An Innocence Taken

Acknowledgement

About The Author

Other Books Written By Michael Linen

Introduction

At the age of 17 years old, one evening Da'Quan Jackson spent the night to his best friend's house, only to return home the following evening to find that both his mother and his father had been murdered execution style. The police said that they believed it to be a senseless killing during a burglary. After being devastated by being the one to have stumbled upon the bloody, gruesome scene, Da'Quan suffers a breakdown, and is institutionalized for 4 years. But the shock and devastation of his parents being murdered turns into anger, fury, and rage. To the point that at the age of 21 years old, he vows to take revenge by killing all of those who were responsible for his mother and father's slaying. Once Quan is released from the institution, he sets out to exact his revenge on the killers of his parents. His feeling was that once he did, it would relieve him of the anger, fury, and rage that burned and simmered inside of him for 4 years. Did it?

This is the story of Da'Quan Jackson, a man who at the age of 17 years old discovered the bodies of his parents after they were murdered execution style. Filled with anger, fury, and rage, at the age of 21 years old he vowed to kill those who were responsible for the killings of his parents. He felt that once he took out those who murdered his mother and father, it would relieve him out the fury, anger, and rage that simmered inside of him. It didn't! Now at the age of 31 years old, Da'Quan had become one of the most feared, coldblooded, coldhearted, ruthless, without a conscious hit-man out there. He was a professional killer, he was an assassin! However, one day Da'Quan meets a young woman name Latasha Grant. He isn't sure if meeting her is a curse or a blessing. Once coldhearted, coldblooded, and a killer without a conscious, Tasha begins to have an affect on Da'Quan. Her presence begins to soften his heart, warm his blood, and he even begins to once again have a conscious to give a damn about someone again. However, they were affects that could get someone in his profession either captured, or killed.

Chapter 1

The Story Of An Assassin

It was a stormy and rainy Thursday evening as the rain just seemed to pour down the entire day just as the weather man had predicted. I myself was feeling pretty much as the weather was. Very depressed! I had a profession that paid me more money than I knew what to do with. I had money stashed all over the place. In several banks both here in the United States and abroad. I had money under several different aliases. And I had money hidden all over the two condos and two houses that I owned. Which were all under different names in order to keep the IRS, as well as the FBI off of my ass. As to what kind of professional job did I have that paid me so much money that I could afford so much of the finer things in life? I was a professional killer! A hit-man! I was an assassin! And I was very good at my job.

My name is Da'Quan Jackson, but some people called me D.J., Dee, Quan, or Q. I'm 31 years old, and I had no real family that I could lean or count on. I was an only child. And like I said, I was an assassin and a professional killer. To everyone I was Da'Quan Jackson. But as an assassin, to my clients I went by the name Blaze. That was my hit-for-hire name, and a name that was only allowed to be used by my clients who had a job for me. In other words... If you weren't some big shot business man or woman with a whole lot of money to spend looking to put out a contract hit on someone... Or perhaps some kingpin who needed a rival taken out... You did not call me by that name! Because if you did, your ass would probably never be seen or heard from again. That was how I went about keeping the police, FBI, and CIA off of my back, and off of my trail. By not having the name Blaze out and about and all over the streets. I was slick and smooth enough to have carried out over a hundred hits within the last 9 years without getting caught or leaving a clue of any kind behind. I knew my shit, and was very good at what I did. In other words... I was a bad mother-fucker!

I went by the name Blaze because I was very coldhearted, coldblooded, and I had absolutely no conscious and no fear of walking up on someone that I was contracted to take out, and blow his or her ass away. But in order to be affective, I needed my hit name to be kept under wrap. I needed it to be protected from getting into the ears of the cops and the feds. Because for all the people that I had taken out, my ass would definitely be facing the death penalty if I was ever caught. But of course, that still didn't stop some from challenging me. There were a few mother-fuckers out there who just felt the need to test me to see just how bad I was. To see if I truly was as ruthless as some claimed. And to see if my bite was as strong as my bark. They would whisper the name Blaze in the streets. Now I'm not going to admit to taking their asses out... But let's just say that, not only will they never whisper that name ever again, but they will never be whispering any other names or even any other words for that matter ever again.

I wasn't always the coldblooded killer that I am today. In fact, I was once a very straight laced bookworm, who always got straight A's in school, made the honor roll, and always finished at the top of my classes. I never got into trouble with the law, or did anything against the law. But that all changed when I was 17 years old. After spending the night to my best friend's house one night, I returned home the following evening, only to find the bodies of my mother and my father. They both were murdered execution style. It devastated me because my parents and I were very close. I suffered a complete breakdown, and was locked away in a mental institution for 4 years. I went into a deep state of depression, and no longer had the will to want to live after seeing the brutality in the way which my parents were killed. I mean, they were slaughtered. The murder scene was very bloody and very gruesome. I was so depressed while I was locked away, that I tried to commit suicide a few times. I just no longer had the will to live after finding their bodies, and seeing how my parents were executed. But one day my state of depression was replaced with anger, fury, and rage. Especially after I had watched the news one evening in my room while I was locked away, and learned that they had caught a suspect that was said to have been involved in the slaying of my mother and my father. The authorities said that they believed that he was just one of multiple suspects that were believed to be involved, and that they thought the others were on the run. Hearing that news, I became a man on a mission. And my mission became revenge! To get out of the institution and do to those fucking bastards what they had done to my parents. To show them no mercy, just as they didn't show my mother and my father any mercy. I had to find a way to convince the board of the institution that I was sane and well enough to be let back out onto the streets.

As I entered my bids and requests to be released, the members on the board were taking no chances. They really put me thru the wringer to see if I was truly rehabilitated and well enough to be let back out into society, or was I just bullshitting them. They put me thru tests on top of tests. They just needed and wanted to make sure that I was sane enough to be back on the streets. They put me thru a range of tests trying to trip me up and trying to make sure that I didn't have the kind of fury, rage, and anger inside of me that would make me go out there and seek some kind of revenge on those who had killed my parents. Oh, I definitely had every bit of that rage, fury, and anger stewing and simmering inside of me, and I had every bit of intentions in seeking revenge. But I also knew that in order to accomplish that I had to be smart. I had to exhibit control and patience. For as much as I was furious at those who killed my mother and father, I had to dig deep down inside of me and not let the board members suspect or see any of that rage and fury that had built up inside of me. It was definitely there, but I had to somehow play it calm, cool, collected, and convince everyone that I was in control of my emotions and my temperament. It took a little over a year, but I was finally released.

Once I was released from the institution it did not take me long at all to implement my revenge on those who had murdered my parents. After being locked away in the institution I was no longer that straight laced choirboy. I was now very hardened and had an, I don't give a fuck about anyone or anything attitude towards the world. I was now very vicious, very devious, very cold, and very heartless. I had become so ruthless, that if I had to cut out your heart or gauge out your eyes to show you that I wasn't fucking around, that's just what I would probably do. And if you called me by my hit-for-hire name Blaze just to be a stupid mother-fucker, I had no problem putting my gun in your mouth or to your head, and pulling the trigger just for you being a dumb ass.

I put myself thru a very rigorous self training course in learning how to use different kind of guns. I pretty much trained myself to become a sharp shooter. Wanting the bitches who murdered my parents so badly seemed to assist me with that. I became very handy using other weapons such as knives, martial art weapons, swords, pipes, and really anything that could be used as a weapon. I learned about many different chemicals just in case I wanted to poison the target. And I trained myself to be careful in not leaving any evidence like fingerprints or any other items that would have my DNA on it that could be traced back to me. I just started thinking devious, cold, cunning, and calculating. I started thinking like a cold criminal. And while I did connect with some seedy, underground type of characters, it was strictly to get a few connections to find out who were the bitches who were involved in the slaying of my parents. I was able to connect with the right people who sung like a bird on those bastards who were responsible for the slaying of my mother and my father. Outside of the information about who did it, I didn't want anyone's help in taking out those who were responsible. I now had the... Trust no one, and be suspicious of everyone attitude towards life. I was a loner, so I was going to do everything by myself. I didn't have any friends or partners, and I didn't want any friends or partners. I didn't want someone there who would get cold feet, turn into a pussy, and snitch on me if something didn't go as plan. Because if he or she did, I would have had no problem putting their asses 6 feet under too.

I waited for about 3 weeks after being released before I made my first move on the bitches who killed my parents. The first mark I made it look like it was a case of a hit and run car accident. When he was crossing the street to go visit his girlfriend, I came out of nowhere and hit that mother-fucker so hard, that he had to have flown at least 20 to 25 feet. There was no evidence for the police because the car was stolen, I had removed the license plate, and had immediately set it on fire after the hit. So the police never found enough to go on, and the case was never solved.

For the second mark I used cyanide to poison him. I was actually going to suffocate his ass by putting a plastic bag over his head, but I did a very quick improvision of the situation as it presented itself. As I was headed to his apartment, and just before I was about to knock on his door and strike, a delivery man was delivering a pizza to him. I intercepted the pizza from the delivery man and laced it with cyanide, then posed as the delivery man myself. I even gave him the pizza for free. Telling him that it was now the custom of the pizza shop that if I didn't get the pizza to him by a certain time, that it would be free and no charge to him. Although they knew that he was poisoned with cyanide, again, the police were never able to solve that case either because they just weren't able to find anything that would link anyone to the crime. They only knew how he was killed, but not why or by who. I wore latex gloves, so there were no prints to get, and I was disguised very well just in case there were street cameras rolling and filming me in the neighborhood.

As for the third mark, I made it look like a carjacking gone bad. I found out that his punk ass worked an evening shift and usually got home around 3 a.m. Like I had done with the second mark, I wore a disguise because it was a quiet suburb that was known for the houses having their own personal security cameras. I parked my car a few blocks away from his house in a very dimly lit area. In fact, it was damn near pitch black. Then I walked back towards his house and hid behind a tree. Being near 3 a.m. in the morning, everyone was asleep. So there wasn't any fear that someone would see me. There was, however, a fear that dogs in the neighborhood would sense me there and start barking, but they never did. As soon as I saw the mark drive up, I struck quickly. Attacking him from behind with my gun, and ordering him to give me his car keys. He actually didn't put up any kind of resistance, but did beg me not to kill him. But that just served into making me absolutely furious that he would beg me for mercy after showing my mother and father none. I just let off a few rounds into his head, jumped into his car, and took off to the very darken area where I had parked my car, which was a stolen car itself. I transferred cars, and took off to another car that I had rented waiting for me in another area. I transferred a second time to another car and got away. That hit, just like the first two, there was no evidence of any kind left behind. The police had absolutely nothing to go on. I had gotten away with my third hit.

I did not even have to get my own hands dirty for the fourth and final hit. The one bitch ass mother-fucker that they did catch was in jail serving a life sentence. But that shit wasn't good enough for me. Just as my parents were no longer here, I wanted him to no longer be here. So this time instead of being the one to carry out the hit, I paid for a contract to be put out on his ass while he was serving his life sentence. While I still didn't want any friends, partners, associates, or to be tied to anyone, I did seek out some help from some underground sources that I had connected with when I first got out of the mental institution. I was hooked up with the right people, and had the fourth and final member of the bastards who had slain my parents taken care of. I didn't want just a hanging. I wanted his ass to be crucified, and to suffer many times over the way he made my mother and father suffer. I wanted him to suffer and given no mercy by the ones who carried out the hit on his ass. It was carried out just as I specified. And like the first three hits that I carried out, the authorities had absolutely nothing to go on that would help then solve any of the hits. Even if there was some smart ass detective out there somewhere who thought that I might have had something to do with it, there was just nothing that linked me to anything. I mean, they didn't even have a clue that the four men had connections to one another in the killing of my parents. They knew that it was more than just the one who was serving life for the murders, but they were never able to piece it all together. As far as they knew, the three that I had taken out were just three men who happened to have met with an untimely fate of death. There just wasn't anything there to suggest to the contrary. I made sure that their demise didn't appear to have any connections with the other. It had the appearance of an accident, being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and someone who was murdered by way of a lethal chemical. My tracks were well covered and none of the cases were ever solved.

All of that took place 9 years ago. I thought that after taking out all of those bastards who murdered my parents, that would rid me of the anger, fury, and rage that simmered inside me. But it didn't. In fact, the anger and rage still simmers in me to this very day. I guess it's because, yes, those sons of bitches aren't here anymore... But neither are my parents. Over the last 9 years I have become one of the most feared and ruthless assassins around. It's to the point that people are afraid to look me straight in the eyes, for fear that if I was to see them staring at me as some type of disrespect, that I would take out my gun and put one right between their eyes. With me it was about the intent. If I saw you staring at me and felt that there was some kind of intent or threat to me behind it, I indeed might put one between your eyes. I had absolutely no hesitancy in taking out a mark or a target. Especially if I felt that he or she was a serious threat to me. I didn't even have any personal concerns about who I was taking out. Once the price was paid, the job was just as good as done. The one and only exception to that rule was children. I did not, and would not hurt or harm children. I made that very clear to everyone who contracted me. And if someone still came in my face about hurting, harming, or killing a child... He or she should not be surprised if I turned around and took their asses out for even suggesting that shit to me. I did, however, had no problem taking out the parents of a child, if that was what the contract called for.

I now got the utmost respect from everyone. Of course, the fact that most of them were absolutely terrified of me when they saw me coming their way didn't hurt either. There was no longer anyone out there bold enough to try and challenge me, or be a wise ass by calling me Blaze if we didn't have some business together. There were only a handful of people who were allowed to call me by that name, and they all knew who they were, and who they weren't. They also knew when, where, and in what situation or circumstances that they were allowed to call me Blaze. And if I told you to no longer refer to me by that name, you didn't. I didn't purposely go around trying to intimidate anyone. But I did, however, wanted everyone to know that I wasn't to be fucked with, and that you didn't want to fuck with me, because not only would I become your worse enemy and nightmare... But there was just no winning in it for you.

I had all the money I could ever want in the world, but I wasn't happy and I wasn't enjoying life. I mean, it's very hard to enjoy life when you trust no one and when you're suspicious of everyone. That was just the way that I lived. Because I still held a lot of rage, anger, and fury inside of me because of my own parents were murdered, I actually had gotten some satisfaction out of it when I found out that the mark or target that I had to take out was someone who had killed someone else.

As for any kind of love in my life, that just did not exist because I trusted no one. Especially women! My mind set had become that all women were just out to get whatever they could get from a mother-fucker. So whenever I wanted to be with a woman, it was strictly to satisfy my sexual needs. Strictly because I was in need of some pussy or just wanted to fuck. In some cases I did wined and dined her, and even bought her a few gifts. But that was just for the ones that I had become familiar with, and the ones that I thought had the best pussy. But even with them, it was the same as it was with all the women I called over to fuck. After we were done doing our thing... So was she! She had to gather her things, and get the fuck out. I didn't allow any woman to spend the night at my condo or at my house. I just didn't trust their asses, and felt that while I was sleeping her bitch ass would probably be all thru my shit. Then I would have to turn her from a fuck into a mark, and take her ass out. The only ones who knew my business were me and the clients that I dealt with. And because I had become so ruthless, even they were afraid to cross me because if they did, I had no problem in sending them to meet their makers. So if any of the women did know or even had a suspicion of what I did for a living, her ass had to forget that she knew if she wanted to stay alive. I also did not trust in confiding to a woman because I felt that if I did, she would just go out and open her fucking mouth, and tell the world what I had told her. Especially if I was stupid enough to confide in her about something that had to do with my profession, which I wasn't. I had all the belief that she would just blab the shit all over the street. I also had all the belief in the world that if she had known of a hit that I had carried out, that she would snitch like a bitch on me. Then I would have to take her ass out. But for the most part the women that