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Back for Seconds!

Damn right I'm back!

I promised you a story. Never let it be said that Kendra Cassidy doesn't deliver on her promises!

I was maybe twenty-four, twenty-five, and I'd been sucked into OutLook for a couple years. I'd had my share of courier runs, about one every month, and had just found out I'd paid back the investment they'd made in me.

I was free, in other words.

If I wanted to be.

Amanda came by to talk to me.

Okay, that's not entirely true. She came over to take me to bed.

You didn't know this about us? Huh. You must not be following my Kindle Vella story, "Recruiting Kendra". Why the hell not?


Amanda and I had an on-and-off relationship for years. Relationship? Hmm. Friends with benefits? How about booty call?

We were good business partners, she was a hell of a handler for me as an agent, and we were good in bed.

We didn't love each other, though.

I do this, don't I? Get sidetracked.

Amanda came over, and after the sweaty fun part we got down to business. That's when she told me I was officially free of OutLook if I wanted to be.

I jumped out of the bed and danced around my apartment, buck-ass naked (which gave the guys in the apartment across the street something to talk about for weeks!).

When I stopped bouncing (and you can take this any way you want), Amanda said, "I've got an offer for you."

"Forget it!" I reached for her. "Let's go back to bed. I learned a new trick last week on set..."

She pulled away from me. "I'm serious, Kendra."

And that's why we never became an item. She was an ice bitch at the core, could turn off her passion as easily as I could turn it on.

"So am I!"

"Kendra." I knew that tone. She was done playing, so I dropped onto the nearest chair.


"You haven't heard the offer.' "I don't care. No."

"It's a good offer."


"Will you at least listen?"

"Yes. I'll listen. Then I'll tell you no."

After a wholly gratuitous eyeroll, she told me the offer.

"We want to train you as an assassin."

This was kinda out of left field, but only kinda. I'd been toying with the idea for a couple years, because, well, I enjoyed the rough stuff.

And yes, take that how you want as well.

I was good at it, too. I hadn't been stopped on any of my runs yet, despite some pretty serious opposition, so I was feeling pretty good about my combat skills.

Which all meant I didn't give her the immediate "No" I had promised.

"What's in it for me?" I asked instead.

"You're free to accept or decline any mission." This was different. As a courier, I took the run, no matter what I thought of it.

"Go on."

"No obligation. No minimum."

"No minimum? Bullshit, Amanda."

"Okay, one mission; that's to recoup the training. But after that? You're off the hook."

"And how long do I have to do the mission?"

"Two years from the day you finish training."

I groaned. "More training? Back to the Complex?"

"The Complex and other places," she said. "A few months."

"Months? How the hell do I manage that?"

"No deadline on signing up. You could say yes today and start in six months. However long it takes to get your affairs arranged."

"Okay, bottom line. What's the pay?"

"As long as you do one mission a year, you're on salary." She named a figure which wouldn't mean anything to you because it was in Bruins, not dollars, but it would keep me comfortable if not rich. "Plue each mission has a bonus based on complexity and hazardousness."

"How much for those?"

"Minimum bonus is three million Bruins, payable in gold." That would be a couple kilos of gold, at least.

"You have my interest."

I'll tell you more the next time Adam lets me take over!

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