Chapter Twelve
Reaper
T he next morning, I rise earlier than usual to ensure I avoid Charlotte. I enjoy my coffee without her morning chat and then I squeeze in a small workout before I check my computer for new messages and new orders from my clients. This week looks extra busy.
Good.
I head out to do some physical investigation and surveillance for an upcoming hit. Another man who nearly killed his wife with his most recent attack. It was the wife, Julie, who reached out. Desperate to make it out of that relationship alive with her three kids. She doesn’t think I'm real, they usually don't, but they still seem to have some hope when they find my contact info on the dark web. Maybe it’s just a fantasy to them, another way to cope, imagining someone coming to their rescue.
I’m coming, Julie.
I return home well after dark, exhausted and hungry. As I open the door to the main house, I'm hit with the scent of something delicious and upbeat music playing. I step into the kitchen and find Charlotte dancing around the stove and singing into a pair of tongs. Apparently, girls just want to have fun . At least that’s what the song lyrics say.
I audibly clear my throat.
“Oh fuck!” Charlotte spins and drops the tongs with a clank. She quickly grabs her phone and pauses the song. “Hi. You scared me. I thought you would be out much longer.”
“Sorry to ruin your plans.”
“No, it’s fine, I was actually doing this for you. I just thought you’d get home later and find some fresh leftovers to eat.” I raise an eyebrow at her. “It’s garlic butter steak and I made some mashed potatoes too. It’s almost done if you want to wait,” she says, cautiously.
She’s expecting me to refuse her offer. I see it in her soft eyes.
“Okay,” I say.
“Yea?” Her face lights up and I take a seat. She picks up the tongs and washes them off in the sink, then gets back to cooking.
I can't help but stare at her smooth legs and how she rises on to the tips of her toes to reach the pepper in the cabinet. Her shirt rises, nearly revealing her panties and ass.
“You gonna continue your singing?”
“What? Oh, no. Definitely not. ”
“Why not? We just gonna be silent?”
“Well, we could talk about how our days were but something tells me that will be a one-sided conversation,” I grunt. She’s right on that one. “Besides, you're not getting a free show.”
“I have to pay for your superb performance?”
“Actually, yes. Yes, you do, Reaper. However, I’m not looking for cash.”
“Oh? Pray tell what you require as payment, Charlotte?” I ask with another raise of my brow.
“I want you to train me.” I can't control the laugh that escapes me. That is not what I was expecting. “I’m serious. I want you to train me. I want to work out, get strong, learn how to fight and… kill.”
“Charlotte—” I’m interrupted before I can continue on about how that’s not happening.
“Listen, I told you I feel like I have no purpose. But I did some thinking and this… this will give me purpose. I want to help. I want to save women like me, I want to be able to defend myself, and honestly, I want to feel the high again of taking out a man who thinks he’s untouchable and powerful. I have nothing. The only people I have left in my life are Lily and my dad who's back in rehab. So please. Give me this. Let me have this.”
Well, fuck.
She’s staring at me with such an intensity in her electric blue eyes that has me feeling uneasy and sends a burst of blood flow to a low part of me. I shift in my seat, adjusting myself.
“What you're asking isn't a simple thing. It takes a lot, mentally and physically, and it's dangerous.”
“I’m dangerous!” she claims with ferocity. “You saw what I did. You know I’m capable.”
“I know. I’m not doubting you, Charlotte, I just… I don't want this lifestyle for you.”
“I spent four years of my life wasted, trapped, living a life I didn't want, living a life powerless with no control over it. I don't want anyone else going through what I did or dying because they can't get out. This… this is what I want for myself. This is how I give my life purpose. This is how I feel powerful and find my joy again. Please, Reaper.”
Fuck.
How can I turn her down? How can I look into those fierce eyes and tell her no? How can I deny her the life she’s asking for after everything she’s been through?
I can't.
“Okay.”
“Really? You’ll train me? You're serious?”
“As serious as that burned steak over there.”
A high-pitched squeal erupts from her as she launches herself toward me and wraps her arms around me. I'm blasted with her scent and warmth as her breasts press against the side of my body.
She’s hugging me .
I'm being hugged.
When’s the last time I was hugged?
My chest ached with a foreign feeling spreading through me.
“All right, all right.” I quickly shrug her and the feelings off and stand. “But we’re gonna do this my way. You listen to everything I say, do everything I say. Safety will be top priority.”
“Yes, yes. Everything you say. Got it. Absolutely. No problem,” she says with excitement.
“First, we will start with building some muscle on you and self-defense. If you can't properly defend yourself when a situation goes wrong, then you're dead. They won't hesitate killing someone who's trying to kill them. We’ll start tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Reaper,” she whispers, grinning.
“Now toss that burned steak in the trash where it belongs.” She throws a stick of butter at me that bounces off my chest to the floor. A small chuckle passes my lips. “So when does the singing continue? That was the deal, wasn't it?”
She walks over to her phone smiling and hits play, resuming the song and begins obnoxiously singing as terrible as possible while dancing around the kitchen with a pan of over-done steak before dumping it in the trash.
I’m so screwed.