Fortune Cookie Karma Cover








Fortune Cookie Karma


He felt a moment of panic, then smiled to himself. He knew exactly where she’d go. Then he saw that one of his picks was missing. Naughty girl. He drew his stun gun and turned the power up a notch, then inched toward her bedroom.

Nine-millimeter in hand, she turned on him and after only the briefest hesitation, pulled the trigger.

Click. Click. Click. Sheer terror showed in her eyes.

“It’s empty,” he said. “I’ve taken care of everything—just for you. Just for our time together. Relax. I’ll set you free.” He liked the way she measured the distance to the hall. She’d run, but she wouldn’t make it.

She hurled the gun at him. He ducked. She had nearly made it to the doorway when he caught her. She jabbed the back of his hand with the pick and he jumped back. She stabbed at him again, missed, and he zapped her.

She crumpled to the floor.

Blood dripped between his fingers as his hand began to throb. “Bitch.” This time he dragged her into position less gently. No more delays.

Once he had the hammer, picks, and brush back in order, he slapped the duct tape over her mouth, then rolled the black stocking over her face. Ready bitch?

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