Chapter 17
KOEN
Burgers eaten, Greer and I watch as the packed house chatters and mills around us. Unbeknownst to her, most of these people are among the seediest she’s likely ever known.
My target entered about twenty minutes ago, and doesn’t seem aware he’s being hunted.
I have the best fun when they’re unaware.
If Greer notices I’m watching someone, she hasn’t let on. She’s had enough drinks to dull whatever worry she’d entered Sip with. She’s slowly rocking from side to side to the music, its notes lulling her as she grins drunkenly.
“You want to dance?” she asks me, her glassy eyes tugging my lips into a smirk.
“No.”
“You’re in a horrible mood.”
I’m not. I’m thrilled and ready to kill.
But she doesn’t need to know that.
My target moves toward the bathroom, and a few eyes watch him knowingly before darting away quickly.
No one here wants to be an accessory. Not when they’re all just as off-grid as I am.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell Greer, standing. Thinking better of bounding toward the bathroom, I turn back. “Do not move. Do not speak to anyone.”
She stiffens. “Okay…”
The music softens through the pounding pulse in my ears as I approach the bathroom door.
The room is small, with only one toilet and sink inside.
He locked the door, so I had to use the key to get inside.
“Hey! Someone’s in here!”
“I know.” Shutting the door behind me, I watch him shove his dick back in his pants before turning around.
“You can’t wait your fucking turn?”
“No!” I sneer, pulling the gun from the back of my waistband.
I twist on the silencer from my pocket, watching his eyes grow wide, and his hands raise in defense while I do so.
“Hey, man. I was just kidding. There’s no need for all this.” His stammering has laced fear, and it almost makes him seem human.
But it’s been years since I looked at targets like human beings. If ordered to eliminate, I do so quickly and efficiently.
“I have no use for your pleading.”
“Man, come on. I have a family. Whatever issue you have with me, we can settle it like men.”
A sadistic laugh spills out of me as I step toward him.
The back of his knees hit the toilet.
The sweat on his brow glistens in the soft moonlight streaming in through an overhead window.
“Where was your family when you were in Washington?”
His eyes widen. “What?”
“Where were they? Were they sound in their bed, thinking their daddy was working to pay their way? Does your family know the blood on your hands?”
“Does yours?” he asks, his mood shifting as he realizes why I’m here.
“You and I are different, Noah. I have no family to speak of. No ties. Family makes you weak. Family makes you stupid.”
He puts on a brave face, but his lower lip shaking gives away his fear. “Please, man. I’ll disappear.”
“Should’ve thought about that before.”
While I don’t know what he did because the files I receive are always redacted, I don’t care. I’ve always thirsted for blood; my employer only cashed in on that fact.
He opens his mouth to beg more, and I pull the trigger.
Shock ripples through his eyes before he falls onto the toilet, slumping over. Then, they’re devoid, lifeless as a death rattle purls through the air.
Crouching before him, I place my gun on the ground to free my hands enough to find his wallet.
Working it out of his jeans from this angle is hard, but I finally get it free.
I remove his license to confirm the kill.
Noah Bradshaw.
Placing it on his chest, I lift his head, his fearful eyes wide as I lean him back to get his face in the shot.
I open the camera on my phone and snap some pics, one close-up of the license, and then send them off for confirmation.
Photo Message
Case 34856 closed.
Code name?
Death Hawk
Kill accepted—Standby for next target.
Closing my phone and pocketing it, I remove the silencer from my gun and shove it in my pocket. Replacing my shirt over my weapon at my waistband, I wash my hands and check myself in the mirror.
The music outside the bathroom has gotten louder to accommodate the raucous crowd, and I take a deep breath before stepping out into the onslaught.
A man is standing outside the bathroom door.
He gives me a nod as I hand over the key. As usual, the bathroom and Noah will be cleaned. His existence will be scrubbed from every database.
I’ll go about my business like the kill never happened.
Because of Greer.
Typically, I’m offered the option of splaying them open for the world to see, making it look like something it’s not.
Not tonight.
Tonight, I follow orders to the T.
“Ready?” I ask her when I return to the table, leaning over her shoulder and inhaling her scent like the elixir of life.
“Yes,” she breathes.
She’s going to be hard to resist tonight; she smells divine, even with alcohol wafting from her breath.
The urge to dose her and have my way with her is overwhelming. Things have changed between us, but she’s still my pretty poison I want to play with.
We get outside, and the cool night air bleeds into my lungs, calming some of the racing adrenaline from killing. My dick is hard, and there’s no helping that. I only hope Greer does nothing on the ride home to make the itch in my bones worse.
“Put your helmet on,” I growl, grabbing mine and meaning to do the same, but Greer’s hand stops my movement.
My eyes flick down to watch as curiosity fills her face.
“Hold still. You’ve got something on you.” Her thumb swipes over my cheek before she turns the tip of her thumb in the minimal light from the bar’s front lights to examine it.
Grabbing her hand, I rub Noah’s blood into her skin so she can’t realize what it is. “Put your helmet on.”
“Are you bleeding?” she asks, her voice shaky.
“No.”
Stuffing my helmet on, I mount the bike and wait for her to do the same.
I’m not giving her any info.
I can’t.
The people I work for will come for me if they knew I was compromised.
Having Greer in my possession could already be viewed as a threat. If they find out I took her on a job, I’m fucked.
“Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Get on the bike, poison!”
Without another word, she gets on behind me, her arms wrapping around my stomach.
Her hands on me are doing nothing to calm my racing thoughts. I rev the engine before turning the front end to pull away from the bar.
“Hang on, pretty poison, I won’t be easy!”
Speeding off, I grin as she tightens her hold on me.
She’s none the wiser after I just killed a man, and it needs to stay that way. Sure, she knows I’m a killer, but if she thinks she knows everything about me, she’s got another thing coming.
After showering, I step out of the bathroom to find Greer lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling fan above. The relaxed nature of her body tells me she’s still decently buzzed from alcohol and the ride home.
She’s been silent.
When she arrived, she went through her nighttime routine, which I know all too well, and then got into bed.
She’s in panties and a T-shirt, and I grind my teeth at the sight.
“Breaking rules already? I didn’t know you liked to push the envelope so much.”
“You don’t know me at all,” she snaps.
Something’s eating her, and I don’t want to give a fuck about whatever it is.
But I do.
“You want to be punished? It’s your prerogative, I guess.”
Standing, she locks eyes with me. She slowly removes her panties and then her shirt, tossing both aside on the floor.
Her standing nude before me, her gaze pinned to mine, does something to me.
If she intended to throw me off-kilter, she’s done a damn fine job.
“Happy?” she asks.
My hand finds my hardness that hasn’t relented, tugging. “As a fucking clam.”
She rolls her spiteful eyes, getting into bed and sliding beneath the covers. “That’s all that matters, I guess.”
What the fuck does that mean?
I remind myself that we don’t care what her charged words meant. She’s our hostage, and her feelings don’t fucking matter.
I shut off the light and get into bed beside her, thankful I’d put on briefs. The urge to roll between her thighs and sink inside her tight pussy is strong.
The briefs won’t stop me from such a feat, but they remind me of the barrier between us.
Her body is something I can’t resist, even when she’s unconscious, and it’s something she could use to gain the upper hand in this house.
I have to be careful with her.
I have to remain alert and in control.
“You had blood on you earlier,” she says, it’s nearly a whisper.
“Be careful. There are boundaries between us, Greer. Some things, you shouldn’t know. You can’t.”
Her swallow is audible through the room before she turns toward me. “Why? It’s not like I can go anywhere or tell anyone.”
“For your safety.”
“My safety? I’m sleeping beside a serial killer. Naked.”
“You’re not sleeping. You’re questioning me. Which isn’t wise.”
“It’s not against the rules.”
“I’ll add it tomorrow.”
“You’re exhausting.” She huffs as she lies down on her pillow. She’s so close I can feel her exhale on my shoulder.
Turning toward her, my eyes travel over where the blanket falls over her side. Her breasts are full and free, her nipples hard.
Her eyes are closed, but her breathing says she’s anything but. Her breath is laced with alcohol, too much alcohol.
She’d been busy while I was on task.
“You drank too much.”
“You’re bossy,” she snaps back, her eyes still closed.
I grin, lifting a hand to pinch her nipple between my thumb and index finger.
“Ah! Hey!” she says in a breathy tone that has me doing it again.
She moves her arm, arching her back and giving me full access to her chest.
When my hand tires of teasing her nipples, it slides lower.
“You killed someone,” she whispers.
I press forward, my forehead connecting to hers.
What I wouldn’t give to taste her kiss. To know what it feels like for her to kiss me back.
I don’t reply.
I can’t.
I spread her lips wide with two fingers, curling them through her pussy and grinning as her moan is low and animalistic.
“And yet, you’re wet for me.”
“It’s not—That’s…” she argues, but I cut her words off, spearing two fingers inside her.
“Don’t worry, my poisonous girl, I won’t tell anyone.”
She whimpers, opening her legs wider.
Her lips hover dangerously close to mine when she arches, blooming for me like a flower.
I forget that I’m supposed to be the one toying with her. That I’m the one in control.
Blood surges, pounding in my ears like a drum as I tease my lips over hers, feeling the vibrations of her moans against them like a hive of bees.
“Wet for a killer, with his fingers fucking you closer to coming. Whatever will they think, pretty poison?” I whisper against her lips.
This seems to rouse her from her stupor, which wasn’t my intent.
I’m left bereft when she pulls back, grabbing my wrist and yanking my fingers from inside her.
She’s so turned on that she’s fighting for air, but my words ruined the moment.
“Goodnight,” she says, rolling over.
My body throbs at the loss, but it’s probably for the best.
Just like Greer, I must realize how much of a hold she has on me.
It’s dangerous.
One can only partake of so much poison before it kills you, and Greer is no different. I need to savor her in small doses.
Maybe it’ll build up a tolerance.
Or maybe I’m a foolish man headed down a road to certain doom, with one woman’s hands on the wheel.