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Hard Run: Action Adventure Pulp Thriller Book #4 (Michelle Angelique Avenging Angel Series) Read online




  Contents

  HARD RUN

  HIT HARD

  Dedication

  Copyright

  HARD RUN

  Action Adventure Assassin Pulp Thriller Book #4

  Michelle Angelique Avenging Angel Series

  (Adult Content & Strong Language)

  Jason Stanley

  Would you like to get all of

  Michelle Angelique’s adventures FREE?

  Be a part of the Advance Readers Team.

  You will get a copy of each book before it’s published. When you read it (like you would anyway) post an honest review on Amazon.

  You can be especially helpful by telling me what you find. If there is something you don’t like, please tell me. If you love something I want to know about that too.

  Contact me at [email protected] if you’re interested in the Advance Readers Team.

  Hard Run is book four of the Michelle Angelique series. In case it’s your first Michelle Angelique book there are a few things you might want to know.

  Although Hard Run is a standalone novel, many readers suggest starting with book one, Hard Revenge, as it establishes Michelle Angelique and her two lifelong besties, “row dogs,” Nikky and Deja.

  A college dropout and self-made woman, Michelle faces great odds in a male dominated world without the resources or training of the FBI, CIA, military, or even the local police. She’s an “everywoman,” the girl next door that said, “Oh, hell no! That’s not happening!”

  Though you won’t go into the bedroom with her, at least not for the actual deed, Michelle is sexually quite active. She enjoys good sex and relishes the occasional excellent one-night stand — but won’t tolerate a bad lover.

  While Michelle becomes a successful business woman, her roots are from the hood and her language reflects it. When she’s pissed, polite language flies out the window.

  Loyal to a fault, Michelle never gives up on her friends or anyone who she takes responsibility for. She is the friend we want, and in crunch time, the one we truly need.

  One more thing. If forced to choose between the law and doing the right thing, right always wins.

  So, if you enjoy spending time with a hard-hitting real woman who sometimes wears her emotions on her sleeve and always tells it like it is, then you’re gonna love Michelle.

  Finally, you may ask, who is Michelle modeled after? That’s easy; my wife, Pjae, my mother, Lori, one very tough college professor, Mildred, and a hugely capable boss, Nguyen Ngo - powerful women all!

  HARD RUN

  *******************

  One: First Day Off

  “THAT SAMBO’S GOTTA BE A DYKE.” The short buff man pushed himself up on the high bar stool at a tall small table.

  “You got that shit right.” The sharp-nosed, twitchy, man agreed. “Can’t no real woman can do that shit. That bitch almost kicked Tammy’s ass. Good God, Tammy’s been the regional champ for two years!”

  “Who let her in here anyway? Her type don’t got no right coming in here to our gym.” The buff man looked around at the people in the room then took a swig of beer.

  On her way out of the gym Michelle heard the two men. She stopped and pinned them with a flat stare.

  “What?” the man said. “You got a problem? That wasn't for you to hear, but it's gotta be true. Only dykes can fight like that.”

  Michelle didn't want trouble. She shouldn't even be in a public gym, but she’d been going stir crazy holed up in the small apartment for the past few weeks. Today's match went well. Her opponent, a high ranked woman fighter, started out over confident allowing Michelle to do a couple good takedowns. After that the fight was on! Michelle lost, but not by much.

  Michelle looked at the man, an internal war raged between wanting to do what felt good and doing the smart thing.

  Asshole.

  No, don't say anything, let this shit go. You're the only black speck in here. Be smart, don’t get involved. This is not the place and certainly not the time. Just leave.

  Michelle glanced at the people sitting at the tables, and past the reception in the gym.

  Anyone in here could know Galletti. Shake it off. Let someone else deal with this pig.

  The men sat in a small open area where snacks and drinks were served. They were at the table closest to the path between the receptionist counter and front door. Out of the corner of her eye, Michelle saw her earlier opponent coming her way. The racist prick who called her a dyke stood up. Without completely blocking her way, he moved into her space.

  Let it go. Don't draw any more attention.

  Shaking her head, Michelle stepped around the man. She reached out to push open the door.

  His hand came down on her shoulder. “Bitch, I’m talki—”

  Michelle spun back into him. With both hands, she grabbed his hand off her shoulder and wrenched his fingers back hard. She kicked his right leg inward locking it against his left leg. Targeting her total body strength, she exploded into him. He went down with a scream. “Aiighhh!”

  On the way, his head hit the foot rest of his chair. A split second later, he thudded on the floor. Like a diving hawk, she struck. Before the sound of his fall echoed off the back wall, she slammed her fist into his face.

  KRUTCHK!

  His head firm against the cement floor. A pounding strike one hundred percent solid. His face took the full force of her punch. The only thing to give, his nose crunched flat. Blood spewed.

  A powerful backswing elbow smashed into his temple. Out cold, his eyes rolled back. His body went slack.

  “Sit your ass back down!” Michelle's earlier opponent, the woman named Tammy, screamed. Less than an inch apart, she stood nose to nose with Twitchy.

  “He's bleeding!” Twitchy’s shrill voice rose.

  Michelle jumped up, bouncing on the balls of her feet, ready for whatever might happen next.

  “Park it Hank, or you'll be fucking bleeding too,” Tammy shoved the twitchy man back toward his seat.

  Hank shrunk back to the edge of his stool. “I'm calling 911 for an ambulance.”

  “No, I'm okay,” the man on the floor croaked. He coughed, turned his head, and spit out blood.

  “Stay down, or I swear to God, you'll live in a coma the rest of your miserable muthafuckin’ worthless life.” Michelle held a full fighting stance.

  The man on the floor made a small single wave of his hand. “No more. I don't want no more. Now get outta my gym you dyke bitch.”

  Michelle nodded to her former opponent, who was still on full alert with Hank the Twitcher. “Thanks.” She picked up her gym bag and backed out through the front door.

  The woman followed her out into the parking lot. “I'm real sorry about what happened in there with Duke and Hank. Duke's the one you took down. They're both complete asses to all the women. They've never gone too far across the line with me to make it worth the hassle of taking action and dealing with the consequences.”

  “Thanks again for your help.” Michelle turned to walk to her car.

  “No, wait. What he said was wrong. We're not like that here. I have a lot of juice with the owners and I'm gonna make sure his ass is blacklisted for the racist shit he said.”

  Michelle's racing heart rate slowed as she listened to the woman. She took a deep breath and forced herself to focus her thoughts on the woman in front of her. She calmed down a little more. “It's Tammy right?”

  “Yeah, Tammy Adcott.” She held her hand out.

 
“Michelle.”

  They shook hands.

  “Good to meet you Michelle. You should come back. I'd enjoy another match. I don’t often get a workout anywhere near as good from another woman.”

  The tang of ocean mist mixed with the thick smell of shallow mudflats drifted on the cool evening breeze. The light breeze, noticeable now that she had relaxed, refreshed Michelle’s flushed skin.

  “Thanks for the invite. I'll think about it.”

  * * *

  The musk of their lovemaking rich in the room, Levon asked, “You're leaving?”

  “Oh, hey,” Michelle said. “You were sleeping so good I felt it would be criminal to wake you. But yeah, I gotta go.”

  “Okay, my loss. Will I see you again?” he asked.

  Dressed in jeans, unzipped, and a bra in her hand, Michelle leaned across the bed and kissed Levon lightly on the lips. “I don't think so. I'm not from around here.”

  “Too bad, Ma, I thought we did real good together. I'd like to sign up for a rematch.”

  “Mmmm, Sweetie, you were super good. But like I said, I'm not from around here.” Michelle ran her hand down his chest caressing the skin, she kissed him on one nipple and squeezed the other. She winked and slid off his bed.

  Levon, propped up on his elbow, openly admired the view.

  Michelle stopped, rested her hands on her hips and gave a little shake. “Like what you see?”

  “Before you put the rest on, do me a favor?” Levon asked.

  “I can’t stay.”

  “Oh, I understand. As much as I’d like to, I’m not asking you to stay. Just turn around so I can lock this moment in my memory for when I’m old and gray.”

  Michelle, bra still in her hand, clasped her hands behind her head and did a slow sexy turn. Her jeans, still unzipped, did nothing to hide her well-shaped ass. Her firm, pert breasts, an optimistic B cup, perfectly enhanced her thin flat stomach. At five feet, five inches, medium chocolate skin, much more athletic than voluptuous, she radiated sexuality like a prowling panther in heat.

  “Mmmmm, perfect. That was the cherry on top of an amazing night,” Levon said.

  Michelle laughed and finished dressing.

  She drove back toward the rented apartment in Galveston and smiled as she thought about the evening.

  It had been good to be out. The unfortunate scene at the gym almost soured the day. But, Michelle knew it was always best to climb back on the horse that threw her. In this case, the horse was men in general.

  Levon seemed like a pretty good guy. He certainly was a good lover. Sex was important to Michelle, not like breathing, but way up the list above many other things. She always found sex easy to find. Good partners were far more the norm than not. She didn't put up with lazy lovers and let the guy know long before they made it to the undressing stage. Michelle hadn't needed to worry about Levon. Exhausted, they both fell into a satisfied sleep.

  It was close to dawn, and Michelle wanted to be with her friend Nikky when she woke up. Michelle spent the past two weeks sitting by Nikky's side, nursing and nurturing her back to health. Hiding out and staying out of sight was hard. The constant worry about Nikky was much harder.

  A big time, old‑school gangster, Ascia, had his top pimp, Jack‑Move, kidnap Nikky and they beat her unmercifully. In a daring and bloody move leaving a trail of bodies, Michelle and her team rescued Nikky. Today was Michelle's first time out of the apartment since they took‑out Big Baller Ascia and his crew.

  The doc, a friend of a friend, flew in that first night, thoroughly checked Nikky over, and said she would live. Still, the first week had been a scary time. The second week saw Nikky a little stronger each day. Stronger was good, but she still had a long way to go.

  Michelle thought back to the first day Nikky was strong enough to talk about what happened. It was almost a week after they rescued her from Ascia's. Michelle stepped into Nikky's makeshift hospital equipped room. The clashing stringent odor of antiseptic and seeping bandages overpowered the aroma of the fresh coffee in her hand. Unexpectedly, Nikky's eyes opened.

  “Hi.” Nikky's barely audible whisper lifted Michelle's heart like a full concert.

  “Well, hi there,” Michelle responded.

  “How long?” Nikky asked.

  “Six days.”

  “I remember some of it, but most is a blur. How bad am I hurt?”

  “Don't worry about it right now. You rest,” Michelle said.

  “How bad?”

  “You're sure you want to know?

  “Yes.” Nikky held up her hands. They were covered in bruises; several fingers on both hands were in splints.

  “Seven fingers, nine breaks,” Michelle said. “No permanent damage.”

  “Bastards. Ascia told them to do it each time. Is he dead?” Nikky asked.

  “Yeah, he’s history. Uncle G and me, we got him. He'll never hurt another woman.”

  “What else?”

  “You had a concussion. Your nose was broken, and both of your zygomatic arches were fractured.”

  “What's that?” Nikky asked.

  “Sorry, I've been talking to the docs. That's what they call your cheek bones.”

  “What else?”

  “Are you sure you want to do this now sweetie?” A lump of dread settled in Michelle’s stomach. “Maybe we should wait until you're stronger.”

  “Help me sit up and stop stalling.”

  “Okay, but sitting up is a bad idea. Most of your ribs are cracked, several are outright broken. The doc said you need to lay flat for a few weeks to let things mend.”

  “Not gonna happen,” Nikky said. “Help me sit up.”

  Michelle tried to help Nikky sit up. It didn't work. Nikky gasped and whimpered in pain, her face lost all color, and she fell back. She hadn't even lifted her head fully off the pillow.

  Tears silently ran down Michelle's cheeks.

  A few hours later, Nikky's eyes opened again.

  “Hey, you’re back,” Michelle said.

  Nikky rolled her head to look at Michelle. “You win. No sitting up, not yet. Now, let me see.”

  Without another word, Michelle pulled a hand mirror out of the dresser drawer. “You sure?”

  “Yes.”

  With a lump in her throat, Michelle held the mirror for Nikky.

  “I can't see much. Covered with these bandages, I’m a mummy. How bad is my face underneath this stuff?”

  “You've had two surgeries. We took you to a local hospital under an assumed name as the victim of a car accident. They did all the serious work on your face. You need to heal some before they do any more.”

  “What else?”

  “You'll need some cosmetic work on your teeth. You've discovered your ribs are a mess. You had some internal bruising, so there’s blood in your pee. There's nothing to do. It'll heal on its own. As long as you stay put, nothing is dangerous, but it'll be painful for a while.”

  “Okay. That's it?” Nikky stared at Michelle with two bloodshot eyes.

  “That's the dangerous stuff. This will mostly piss you off. You had a bad cut on the side of your head. They had to shave the side of your head to sew it up.”

  “Yeah, I remember. The big guy, I think they called him Freddy, hit me with a gun. He was the one who broke my fingers.”

  “Him too. History,” Michelle said as a matter of fact.

  “Who else?”

  “Everything happened real fast so somebody could've made it out. As far as we can tell, we got everyone in the place.”

  “Jack‑Move?”

  “No, apparently he wasn't in the building. Or at least he wasn't in the ground floor lobby or up in Ascia's headquarters.”

  “That's too bad. I'm sorry he got away. The good news is now I can take him out myself.” Nikky tried a little smile.

  “Maybe tomorrow.” Michelle winked at her friend.

  “I'm in no hurry. Seriously, Michelle, I need to take that mothafucka out. I want to see the fear in his eyes and
know he can't do that to a woman and get away with it.”

  “The rape?” Michelle’s voice softened implying the support she genuinely meant and hiding the rage that had almost consumed her.

  “He did it before he took me to Ascia's. He said he wanted to give me something good to remember when the going got rough. The vivid vision of getting even with him was what got me through the worst of the beating.”

  Michelle held Nikky's arm. “If there is any way I can do it, I'll make sure you have your revenge. I promise you. First, you have some healing to do.”

  “Was anybody hurt?”

  “Nothing serious, we're all okay.”

  Nikky visibly relaxed. She took a breath and tears welled up in her eyes. “Thank you God. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if anyone was hurt because of my being so stupid.” Nikky's tears threatened to let go and drop into the bandages.

  Michelle’s own tears ran down her face and dripped off her chin. “Oh, Sweetie, none of this was your fault. I never should've let you stay. I'm the one who screwed up on this whole thing. I'm so, so, sorry. It's all my fault you got hurt.”

  Nikky rested her hand on her stomach. “Take my hand.”

  Michelle reached over and trying not to touch her damaged fingers, held the top of Nikky's hand. Nikky covered Michelle's hand with her other hand. “No, you're wrong. I knew the danger. You told me many times. I fucked up and was careless. I stopped paying attention, and he snuck up on me like I was a little kid who didn't know any better.”

  They held hands in the strange hand-sandwich fashion and let the tears flow. With a small whimper, Nikky relaxed back into her pillows and closed her eyes. Michelle felt Nikky's hands relax a little. Then Nikky opened her eyes. “You said, nothing serious. What does nothing serious mean? Who got hurt?”

  Michelle wiped her eyes and blew her nose. “Uncle G was shot in the ass. Nobody else was hurt.”

  A small smile tickled Nikky's lips. Her breathing slowed and she went back to sleep.

  Gratitude for the memory of that day lodged a lump in Michelle’s throat.

  .

  Two: Regrouping

  Two weeks earlier in Tulsa.