SIX
I barely notice Ray Campbell shooting daggers at me. I only see the wrath on his face once he steps to his left, shielding Noelle from my view. His eyes narrow at me, trying to intimidate me. When he realizes it’s not working, a scowl appears on his face.
Noelle peeks through, falling into step next to her father.
Her eyes are locked on me. There’s nothing but pure amusement and humor dancing behind those dangerously sweet, honey eyes. A provocation is bound to happen. She sucks in her bottom lip, dragging it between her teeth, and I swear I can hear my heartbeat.
Her pale, delicate neck is in my view as she shrugs off the leather jacket, tossing it to the side.
I want to wrap my hands around her thin, pretty neck and squeeze the life out of her until bruises form and she dies with my mark on her skin.
I’ve found out everything there was to find out about her. She graduated at the top of her class and one year early. She has a degree in chemical engineering, and, at the moment, isn’t interested in furthering her education.
She’s skilled with guns, but she prefers knives and daggers. It gives her more control, and she likes the challenge that comes with that. Her first kill was when she was seventeen, and her body count is well into the hundreds already.
For an assassin, it’s impressive.
On paper, Noelle Liliana Campbell is a neat freak. Her space is always kept clean with minimal furniture and accessories. I know that because I broke into her apartment last night while she was gone.
There isn’t anything personal, as if she’s ready to dump that place and leave at any given moment.
Well, except for the number of flowers she has.
What the fuck is up with that? Is she planning to open a botanic garden? I almost mistook it for a fucking jungle.
There isn’t a single interesting thing about this woman. She’s bland, boring, and she’s getting more on my nerves as the days pass by.
Before leaving, Ray leans in and whispers something in her ear. She grins ear to ear and nods. Then, our fathers step into the other room, equally as small.
We’re left alone, and neither of us speaks, moves, or blinks. It’s a staring contest, one I have no intention of losing.
“How’s your thigh?”
“How’s your brother?”
“Bitch.”
Noelle laughs and takes a few steps forward. There’s little-to-no distance between us, and only now am I realizing our height difference. She’s far from short, but she’s a little mouse in comparison to me.
She tilts her head to the side and smirks.
“How innovative.” Sarcasm coats her words. “I’ve been called worse.”
“I can let my imagination run wild and come up with a few… decorative names.”
“I’m sure you can, but—” She stops speaking and takes another step forward. “Didn’t you say you’d kill me the next time we saw each other?”
I clench my fists to my side, and I’m seeing red.
Noelle is the epitome of provocative. Her voice is soft, but it’s poison in disguise. She’s a venomous snake who is only waiting for the right opportunity to sink her teeth into my flesh, killing me painfully and slowly.
The closer she gets to me, the more I can smell a certain scent on her body.
It’s one I’m familiar with and no longer disgusted by.
Noelle reeks of blood.
That’s when I notice that there are a few stains on her white shirt. They’re light and wet, as if she was trying to wash it out in a rush. The bitch was out killing people before coming here.
“I did, but there are some rules to follow. Don’t think I’m letting you live because I want to.”
Noelle bends down to tie the laces on her Dr. Martens. She’s looking up at me and in a quick, swift motion, she’s back on her feet with a dagger’s blade pointed at my neck. It touches my Adam's apple, and the sharp metal draws blood once she applies more pressure.
I’m quick to whip out my gun and press it against her temple, the safety off and ready to go.
“You can break a rule or two, you know.”
“You’re right,” I agree and prepare to shoot. Killing her right here won’t be that bad, right?
“Let’s see which one is faster, then. My blade or your gun.”
Her eyes sparkle in excitement. She knows I’ll kill her before she manages to slice my throat, so why is she acting like an idiot? Anyone with a brain can see that this scenario doesn’t benefit her in the slightest.
“Are you sure about that?”
Confusion washes over her face.
With my free hand, I grab her throat and pin her against the nearest wall. I’m careful not to be heard by our fathers, since it wouldn’t end well for me.
She’s shocked, and I lower my gun. Her hand falls down, but she’s still clutching onto the dagger tightly, wanting to use it again.
I see it in her eyes.
The need to shed blood. The desire to have my head and keep it as a souvenir.
Noelle’s heart all but jumps out of her chest. I can see the organ’s outline on her shirt and hear the unsteady beating clearly. Her brows narrow at me, anger flashing behind the stoic expression.
We’re all alone in a dark room. I squeeze her delicate throat, and she doesn’t struggle against the hold. Instead, it’s as if she’s welcoming it. It’s fueling her hatred and rage, and I can see her cheeks starting to flush in humiliation.
Noelle looks so fucking pretty when she’s humiliated.
“I’ll give you five seconds to remove your filthy hands from my neck.”
Her voice is hoarse, and she barely speaks coherently. I loosen my grip but firmly press my fingers on the side of her neck. That seems to piss her off more as she raises the hand holding the dagger and without even blinking, she stabs my shoulder.
Pain shoots through my left arm, but I don’t show it. She hates it even more that I’m silent. She pulls out the blade violently, and blood splashes her. It’s mainly on my arm and her shirt, but a few droplets are on her face. She doesn’t even flinch as the warm liquid hits her face.
“Let me go, motherfucker.”
Her harsh words barely reach me. Instead of listening to her ridiculous demand, I bend down and lick the blood that is smeared on her face.
Noelle freezes in place. My tongue darts along her jaw, holding eye contact. She looks like a deer in headlights as I lick the ichor off her bare face. She tastes as she looks: tempting, alluring, and toxic.
Poor Noelle looks like she’s about to cry, and the exhilarating feeling doesn’t leave my body, not until I’m done with terrorizing her. Her body starts to tremble, and I can’t tell if it’s fear or anger. Whichever it is, I’m here for it.
She should fucking fear me.
Choking her is the least of the things I can do to her. She should be fucking petrified of meeting my gaze again. And by the looks of it, she is.
Noelle almost cries.
Almost.
And I will give up everything just to see her tear-stained face at least once before I kill her.
But it doesn’t happen.
Her palm flies to my mouth, and she pushes my head, turning hers to the side and narrowing her eyes. Her cold hand against my burning skin brings me a sensation I can’t and don’t want to name.
I pause and finally hear what she seems to be hearing.
It’s oddly silent, but the atmosphere is strange. It takes me less than five seconds to understand that we aren’t alone. That’s when footsteps can be heard, struggling to walk silently on the thick snow outside.
I let go of her throat, and she nods at me once. She’s silent and quick to reach the broken door and hide behind the wall. She’s listening intently, trying to figure out how many of them are coming.
There are at least eight different sets of footsteps coming our way. If they’re attacking the front, they’re attacking the back too, so we can’t count on Ray and Henrick for help.
Not once in a million years would I have thought I’d be fighting alongside a Campbell, much less this lunatic bitch.
But she’s excited. She’s leaning against the wall with her eyes closed. I try not to disturb her and take the other wall, prepared to shoot. I only brought the clip inside of the gun, so I’m praying she can handle a few of them on her own.
More than anything, I want to see Noelle six feet under.
However, it has to be me who takes her life.
Noelle’s life is mine. Anyone who dares to kill her before me will meet their unfortunate end at my hand. She’s mine to torture and kill. I won’t let anyone else get in between us like that.
Before the first man even steps inside, Noelle springs to action. She grabs his hand as he’s taking a step in, trying to get inside, and pulls him toward her. She elbows his head and then grins like a maniac.
Noelle slits his throat and dumps his body to the ground.
I don’t have the luxury of staring at the insane bitch and start shooting the next man that tries to sneak his way inside. I hit him neatly between the eyes, and he falls to his knees, slumping to the ground.
It’s hard to walk around him, so I stomp over his dead body and go outside. The rain of bullets starts, and I see at least twenty men in total. Some idiots decide to take the easy way out and go to the back where Ray and Henrick start shooting.
It’s dark. I can’t see properly in front of me. I can only lean on my senses and pray that they don’t fail me after this many years.
One motherfucker attacks me from behind, but he misses. I turn and shoot, only hitting his leg, but that’s enough. He falls to his knees, screaming in agony and holding his wound. His weapon falls from his hand into the thick snow. That’s when he realizes his mistake.
I kick his face with my foot, blood splattering on my shoe. I’m pissed as fuck that his dirty blood is staining my expensive shoe and if I had enough time, I would make sure he licked it clean.
But I don’t have the time to dwell on that.
They’re coming from every direction, and it takes me longer than anticipated to take care of them all. They’re not amateurs, but they’re not professionals either. Their footwork is sloppy, and their hiding places are easily discovered.
Their aim is steady; however, it’s dark, and they’re in an unknown field with unknown enemies. I use that to my advantage to either knock them all out or take their lives.
I’m breathing heavily by the time all of them are on the ground.
The snow is no longer white with their blood staining it. It’s like a work of art, one I’m immensely proud of.
A thud comes from the inside.
She better not be fucking dead.
And… she’s not dead.
But she’s covered in blood.
Head to toe, covered in blood.
Noelle senses me and snaps her eyes in my direction. She drops the last man to the floor, hands entirely covered in the crimson shade. Her eyes are dull with no emotions lingering behind them.
She’s ruthless.
She killed seven people on her own in a span of twenty minutes. All men had guns on her, yet there isn’t even the smallest scratch on her body. She’s breathing heavily, her chest rising up and down at a rapid speed.
Noelle swallows thickly and blinks.
“What the fuck are you staring at? Want to lick their blood off my body, too?”
Now that’s a tempting offer.