Sister's Revenge: Action Adventure Assassin Pulp Thriller Book #1 (Michelle Angelique Avenging Angel Assassin) Read Online Free Page A

stopped just short of the still-open door to Michael’s den. The smell of blood had mixed with gunpowder, choking her, making her gag. Feeling dizzy, Michelle bent over to catch her breath, and when she stood up, she looked at her hand—fresh blood glistened on her palm. The nearby wall was streaked with it.
    “Oh God, Michael!”
    Michelle ran the last few steps to Michael’s den where he lay on the floor, covered in blood. With one hand over her mouth, the other on her stomach, she retched.
    The room was a shambles. Michael lay by the door, while farther inside, Gabe Jr. and two other guys lay dead. On the coffee table sat two open briefcases—one full of drugs, the other full of money.
    Michael’s eyes eased open. “Michelle . . .”
    Michelle swooped down, grabbed her brother. “Oh God, Michael, I thought you were dead.”
    Michael slid his hand into hers and squeezed hard. “Michelle, listen. You have to leave. If they find you, they’ll kill you, too.”
    “I can’t leave you here. I have to get an ambulance.”
    “No. You have to leave. Get Uncle G. He can get you someplace safe.”
    “I don’t want to be safe. I want to get you to the hospital.”
    He coughed, blood dripping from his mouth. “Baby girl, you promise me you’ll leave that shit sitting there. Don’t take nothing. You promise me. They’ll kill you if you take anything. Leave it. Get out. Just go.”
    “No, Michael, I’m not leaving you here.”
    “Promise me.”
    “I won’t touch anything. Just don’t you die. Don’t you die.”
    Michael’s hand went limp.
    “No!” she cried. “You can’t. You have to stay!”
    Michael looked up into Michelle’s eyes and whispered, “I love you, little—” Then his gaze went blank, and his last breath sighed from his lips.
    With tears streaking down her face and sobs wracking her chest, Michelle sat on the floor rocking her brother back and forth.
    She didn’t know how long it was before she turned and puked in great, wrenching spasms that echoed the heartbreak of her soul.
    * * *
    M ichelle’s tears ran down her face as she told the last part of her story. Today was the first time in a long time she’d cried. For the first few months, she’d cried every night, and then one day, she didn’t—for almost two years.
    But the re-telling had taken her back to that horrible day, and her tears had now turned to quiet sobs. Michelle strained to pull her thoughts back to the room where her friends’ own silent tears were spilling.
    Michelle tried to wipe her nose with her overused tissue.
    “Tissues?” Nikky asked.
    “Bedroom,” Michelle said, sniffling and wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.
    Nikky brought out the tissue box and passed it around, while everyone caught their breath.
    Michelle sat back, deeply shaken, and took a long drink of her cognac, then another, and another. Telling them about Michael’s murder had been harder than she’d thought it would be.
    She’d told them most of the story, but not all of it. Trusting them with her life was a risk she accepted. Putting their lives in danger was also part of the deal, though she wanted to limit it as much as possible; she’d keep many of the real dangerous details from them.
    “Sweet Jesus. No wonder you disappeared,” Deja said. “I’m so, so sorry that happened. We had no idea you were there.”
    “I can’t imagine it,” Nikky said. “Seeing Michael die like that had to be the worst. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to Taye.”
    “There’s more if you want to hear it,” Michelle said.
    “Sweetie, we can stay as long as you want,” Deja said. “Hearing all of this is breaking my heart, but it’s nothing compared to what you’ve had to deal with all this time. Of course, if you’re willing to tell us, we want to hear it.”
    “Give me a minute to splash some water on my face.”
    “I’m ready for something without alcohol. Do you have anything else to drink?” Deja