Read Good Intentions - Adrian Hell #6 (Adrian Hell Series) for Free Online

and kill you.”
    A palpable silence falls. The tension is immediate and obvious. I feel as if my own heartbeat is audible. No one speaks, moves, or even blinks. Seconds tick by like hours. The gun pressed against my head remains steady. Way’s eyes narrow.
    Then he smiles.
    Then he laughs.
    “You a very funny man, whoever you are!”
    I shrug, a little confused. “Thanks…?”
    “Okay, Mr. Funny Man, I’ll play along… out of curiosity.” He gestures around him with his arms. “This is my home. It’s where I run my business from.”
    I glance around. “It’s a nice place… And what is your business, exactly?”
    “I… work with people, shall we say? People—mostly men—from all over the world contact me, wanting other people—mostly women—who will provide a service. And for a modest price, I supply one to the other.”
    “Lemme guess… by service , you don’t mean cooking or cleaning?”
    He shakes his head.
    “And when you say women , you actually mean girls?”
    He pauses for a moment and then nods.
    “Well, you’re a sick fuck, I’ll give you that. But what I don’t understand is how are you making any money? Companion clubs are legal now. Why pay black market prices for something you can buy over the counter? Figuratively speaking.”
    Way stands. He’s maybe half my height. He looks like a Hobbit—all hairy and unclean.
    Not wishing to be disrespectful to Hobbits or anything.
    He shakes a finger at me and smiles. “Ah, yes, but it’s only legal in America . Not here. Not every country jumped on your president’s bandwagon. Besides, you would be surprised what some rich men like, my friend.”
    I shrug. “I dunno… I’m a rich man. Or, at least, I used to be, I guess. But that doesn’t mean I’m interested in young girls. Money don’t mean a thing—fucked up is fucked up.”
    “I am not here to pass judgment, I simply supply to meet demand. And I’ve been doing very well from it for quite a while.” He nods at his head of security next to me, who hasn’t moved an inch this entire time. “And no one—certainly not a stupid little American asshole like you—is going to change that. Now, if there’s nothing else, I’ll leave you to die.”
    “Well, there’s one thing, actually…”
    He raises an eyebrow. “Hmmm?”
    I knock the gun up with my arm and shove the big bastard who’s holding it with as much strength as I can muster using both hands. He staggers back a few paces but doesn’t go down, which is okay—I just wanted a bit of space…
    I run toward him and jump, crashing into him with my elbow and knee raised. They both connect at the same time, hitting him in the jaw and chest respectively. He staggers back again, but remains stubbornly upright.
    I move toward him once more, walking quickly and with purpose. I don’t want to let up for a second—I can’t afford for him to recover and aim his gun at me again. I swing my back leg around, low and hard, catching him flush on the outside of his knee. His leg buckles under his weight. For the first time since I started, he falters and looks as if he’s going to drop, but he doesn’t.
    This guy is just ridiculous! If I’d kicked Way like that, it would’ve snapped his leg in half…
    He raises his weapon, but I’m close enough to him to make the gesture ineffective. I brush his arm away and throw three punches in quick succession to his sternum and gut. He takes another step back, stunned. He drops his gun and I push it away with my foot, making sure it’s nowhere near anyone.
    I step forward and throw another hard combination—one more to the gut, followed by a shot to his kidney. He wavers, but this time he plants his feet. I see his body tense and he shakes his head, clearing the cobwebs.
    Oh… shit…
    He lunges forward and—
    Whoa!
    —wraps his… colossal… hands… around my… throat!
    He lifts me clean off the floor and throws me backward. I land heavily, maybe ten feet away from where I started.