Forced Assassin Read Online Free Page B

going to start again. Name?” he asked.
    “Mickey Mouse,” she mumbled, then, seeing the dark look he gave her, said, “Fallan Jones.”
    “Occupation?”
    “Drug dealer.” Stop it!
    “Fallan, I know this must be annoying to you but just try to give me the right answers. I know you’ve told me this before, but I have to make sure you really are who you say you are.”
    She glared at him, lips pressed together.
    He sighed. “I tell you what, I’ll find out for myself.”
    He click-click-clicked on a laptop, bringing up what looked like a file. If he’d done a search on her, he’d have found out she was just a boring, everyday girl. 
    “Where are we?” she asked.
    “In my safe house.”
    “Oh, a safe house. Sounds so movie-ish.” She rolled her eyes.
    Silence met her statement. Bishop clearly had issues with women who spoke their minds.
    “I need to use the bathroom,” she said.
    “Hold it.”
    “I’ve been holding it. I need to use the bathroom.”
    “Like I said, hold it.”
    “And like I said, I have been.”
    He ignored her. She glared at him, hating the fact he was so good-looking. Hating herself for even thinking it.
    A few seconds later the laptop beeped and he closed it.
    “So you’re Fallan Jones, Asda employee, and your mother died last year of cancer. You wanted the ten grand because you’re in debt from donating money to the hospital while she was ill. Hoping some medical cure would help in time? You dropped out of university two years ago to care for her. You’re twenty-four.”
    “Wow, you got all that from a computer? Congrats, whiz-kid. I bet you were the computer geek in high school.” Fallan rattled her chains. “I’ve got to go to the bathroom.”
    “Why else did you decide to do this treasure hunt?”
    “I need the money. The house is about to be taken off me by the bank. I need to make a significant payment so that doesn’t happen. We fell behind on the mortgage while Mum was ill. Do you want me to continue?” The need of the money shamed her. She rattled the chains even more.
    “Don’t try anything funny,” he warned, walking towards her.
    “You’ve put a gun to my temple, threatened me at every turn. You know a lot more about me than I do about you. Please, just let me use the fucking bathroom.”
    Bishop unlocked the cuffs, leaving them dangling on each wrist, but led her to the bathroom, shut and locked the door, leaned his back against it and crossed his arms.
    “What are you doing?” she asked, outraged.
    “Do your business.”
    “I’m not doing it in front of you.”
    “Either do it or I’ll chain you back to the chair and you can piss there.”
    “This is embarrassing.” Pulling her dress up to her waist, she followed by pushing down her tights. Before she touched her panties, she glared at him. “Won’t you give me some privacy? At least turn around.”
    Bishop snorted but faced the door. She blushed as she looked at his back and tight arse. His trousers enhanced the powerful muscles beneath, and, God help her, her body was melting to feel him underneath her hands.
    She shoved those thoughts away. Once she’d done her business and washed her hands, Bishop was watching her again.
    “You do realise you’re in a shitload of trouble,” he said.
    Fallan shook her head. “No! I had no idea! Of course I realise I’m in a shitload of fucking trouble, but I followed instructions and now I’m here. I just hope the other women were lucky.”
    “Other women. Tell me about them.”
    “About a group of ten, I think. We each got a different location. Some abroad and some stayed near home.” She sniffed and got a whiff of her body odour. “Just out of curiosity, will I be allowed a shower?”
    “Yes. With me.”
    “Wait a minute. This is a complete breach of my privacy, not to mention how unfair you’re being.”
    Bishop pressed her up against the wall. She couldn’t turn away from his intense stare.
    “Fallan Jones, you’ve signed on for an