6. Parker
6
PARKER
It’s been four days since I’ve seen Ali.
And those four days have been the hardest of my life.
Years ago, when I had just joined the mob and was still green, I was captured by The Black Coyotes, the New York arm of the Irish mob. I made a mistake, and it cost me. I was held and tortured for eleven days straight. They cut me with knives, broke my fingers, and put out cigarettes on my skin, but all that was nothing compared to the agony I’ve struggled to endure these last few days being away from Ali.
My instincts are howling. All I want is to stalk her every second of every day. I want to camp out across from her apartment, break in, and pound the breath out of her. I want to fuck her so hard and so deep that her pussy is never able to forget the feeling of my cock. But somehow, I’ve managed to keep myself away. Don’t ask me how. A lion must hunt its prey, and I must stalk Ali. Maybe it’s an act of God that’s given me the strength to resist.
The guilt I feel for throwing her out of my apartment continues to eat at me like a venomous snake with a stranglehold around my neck, choking me slowly, growing tighter and tighter as the seconds tick by. And I know it’s only a matter of time before I succumb. Before my remorse overwhelms me and I cease to exist.
I wake up in the middle of the night sweating, gasping for breath, the visage of Ali’s face haunting me like some taunting specter. The look of betrayal she gave me was like a dagger through my chest. She must despise me, and I wouldn’t blame her for wanting me dead. Even now, if I went back to her and apologized, would she accept it? Or would she throw me out like I did to her?
Somehow, I’ve managed to make it all day without opening the gallery on my phone. No pictures of Ali. No videos. That’s been my rule, and while I failed the last three days, I’ve managed to succeed today. I even told myself I would delete them all. Purge them from my phone so there would be no temptation, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. For me, that would be like setting fire to the Mona Lisa. Some things you just can’t do.
I took three breaks today and jerked off to the thoughts of the night I first claimed my angel, my treasure, but they did nothing to stave off my unbearable hunger. Ali belongs to me, and I’m pushing her out of my life.
Why am I like this? Sure, I was raised on the streets and surrounded by crime. But I could have taken another path for my life, yet I chose to join the mob. I chose to become a hitman. And as a result, I may have destroyed any chance for a life filled with love.
When I leave work, I head straight for my car and speed back to my apartment. I have to lock myself in and find a way to distract myself so I don’t rush over to Ali’s. But once I step inside, all I see is the wall where I held Ali and pressed my knife to her throat. The couch where I pinned her down and fucked her. Even holding my door open makes me cringe as I think back to the moment she walked out, stunned and trembling from my cruelty.
“What have I done?” I mutter.
I stand there like a statue, unmoving for hours. I don’t know what else to do. Making myself a meal or watching TV feels wrong. I don’t deserve to enjoy life without her. If she’s suffering, so must I. I know that if I move a muscle, I’ll end up going straight over to her apartment to stalk her like the maniac I am.
So I stand there, eyes closed, focusing on my breathing.
And then the wind stirs outside.
A breeze blows through the window and lifts her scent from the couch, funneling it into my nostrils.
Almond cherry…
That’s all it takes. It’s like a bolt of electricity that snaps my eyes wide open. I grab my car keys from the counter and rush back out the door, heart pounding like a madman. I break every speed limit and run every red light on my way to her place.
I’m not going to break in tonight. That would be wrong.
But just a little glimpse from across the street? I can handle that. Right?
I feel like an addict justifying having a single drink after a length of sobriety. Deep down, I know there are more ways this can go wrong than it can go right, but I just can’t stop myself. I’m in a nearly hypnotic state as I cross the road and enter the vacant house, my mind already swimming with visions of what I might see tonight.
Then, just as I’m closing the door behind me, I catch a tiny red flash out of the corner of my eye. Adrenaline dumps into my veins as I whirl in its direction. It’s gone. I open the door again and close it, and the light re-appears–a single blink from beneath an old stack of rotten plywood.
I hurl the boards aside and reach into the mess and pull out a Wi-Fi motion sensor. Sweat breaks out all over my body, and I instantly place a hand on my gun. Someone planted this here. Someone who specifically knows I come here to watch Ali. So either that someone is a person from my past life who has tracked me down and is monitoring my movements…
…or that person is Ali, and my worst fears have been realized. My heart sinks.
I knew it. Ali is a Fed.
I also know what has to happen next.
I have to kill Ali.
An avalanche of emotions rock me to my core, and I sink to my knees. It’s as if I’m carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders, and it’s doing its best to press me down into the earth so deep that I’ll never see another human again. And I would deserve that. There is no punishment great enough to make up for the terrible things I’ve done–for what I’m about to do.
I’ve never been a big religion guy. I guess that goes without saying. But maybe this is God’s cruel way of getting back at me for the cruel and terrible life I’ve led. I tried to put my sins behind me and move on, but maybe this is his way of telling me that no matter what I do, I’ll always be the same twisted, dangerous killer that I’ve always been.
I look up and see Ali’s silhouette through her bedroom window. Automatically, as I’ve done so many times before, I lift my binoculars to my eyes and peer through the slats in her blinds. She’s wearing a big, baggy T-shirt again. Only this time, it comes down past her ass like a short dress. I can’t even tell if she’s wearing panties, but I assume that she’s not.
I’m instantly hard. My mouth waters as I picture her sweet little pussy hiding between her legs. I’m practically drooling like a dog begging for its bone. Ali’s up there, half-naked, prancing around because she knows I’m watching. Because she wants to tease me with the beauty that I pushed away. It’s all part of a bigger scheme to try and get me to take her back into my life. That way she can gather information on me. Try and get me to talk about my past so they can send me to prison.
I only have one option now. Send the Feds a message by taking out their mole. And like I said before, a lion has to hunt, and I’m sure as hell not going to spend the rest of my life on the run, moving from town to town, always wondering if the next girl I meet is just another honey trap.
Not like there could ever be another girl in my life anyway…
Not after Ali.
Even now, as the burn of betrayal ravages me like the sting of a thousand knives, I can’t deny the feelings I have for Ali. Love. I am madly in love with her. It may be twisted, it may be deviant, it may have been born from the darkness of mutual depravity, but it’s still love.
And that makes the fact that I have to kill her so much more painful.
I have to do it now. Now before I lose my nerve.
I don’t even wait until she shuts her light off to go to bed. With my hands shaking and my heart pounding, I rush out of the building and scale her wall like a professional climber working toward a world record. Her window nearly shatters as I shove it open and burst into her room like a hurricane. She whirls to face me, and I catch a glimpse of genuine surprise in her eyes, but it’s too late. I already have my knife out and pressed against her chest, right on the lethal point where her heart is. All it would take is a single thrust and she’ll die instantly.
I’ve done it countless times to countless people.
But right now, as she stares into my eyes, I’m frozen.
“Parker…” Her voice is like a fairy’s. Light and wispy. Angelic and innocent. It pierces straight to my heart, filling me with a fuzzy feeling that floods through my entire body.
“I know it’s you!” I hiss. “I found the sensor!”
Recognition flashes through her eyes.
So I was right. It was her. She’s a Fed. Christ, why couldn’t I have been wrong about her? Couldn’t this all have been one big misunderstanding? If there was any doubt that I have to kill her now, it’s gone.
“Wait,” she stammers. “Yes, I put it there, but–”
“You with the FBI?” I snap.
Her eyes flicker again. Her breath catches as she whimpers, “W-what?”
My God, she truly is an incredible actor. This girl should win an Oscar for this performance. Even now, after she’s admitted to planting the sensor in the vacant house, she’s almost got me convinced that she had nothing to do with it. That she’s innocent.
Her scent invades my nose, tugging me closer to her. I feel her warm breasts against my chest through her T-shirt. Her nipples are hard. I wedge my leg between hers and discover I was right. She isn’t wearing any panties. And she’s wet too. Her arousal begins to soak through the fabric of my pants, causing a surge of blood to my cock. I close my eyes and nearly lose myself in the memories of what it was like to be inside her. To tongue her wet little slit and make her come….
Fuck. I’m losing control. Focus, Parker. Focus. You’re not here to get laid. You’re on a mission. This is a hit.
She’s a Fed. She has to go.
…but what’s the harm in having her one more time before that happens?
I unbuckle my belt and unzip my fly, then reach into my pants and pull out my hard-on. I’m so fucking swollen it’s aching with insatiable hunger. The power this girl has over me is unmatched. It’s actually terrifying. Ali is the kind of woman who inspired some man to come up with the mythical succubus.
She gasps as I enter her, and I don’t even bother to hide my rapturous groan. Fuck yes, there she is. That tight, sweet, little pussy, gripping my cock like a clenched fist as I begin to thrust. She’s dripping wet. I can feel her slick on the insides of her thighs as I rut deep into her, pounding her back against the wall.
“I’m not a cop–” she tries to say, but I cover her mouth with my hand.
“Don’t lie to me!” I growl, picking up the pace. “It’s not enough that you break my heart? Now you want to lie to me?!”
Her eyes blaze back at me, and for the first time, I see actual fear. She gave me sass when I had my gun aimed at her back at my apartment, and she was calm when my blade was pressed against her throat. But now she’s actually reacting. And I can see it’s not because she’s scared for her life. No, something else is going on.
I’m losing myself in her pussy. The warmth, the wet, the way it already feels like home despite me having only had it twice. The fact that I won’t be able to have it for the rest of my life is a fact I can’t even begin to face right now. At this moment, all I can do is focus on the overwhelming pleasure I get from fucking her.
God, if only she could be mine for good.
If only she was an innocent little girl.
She tries to speak, but my palm muffles her voice. I show her the blade, reminding her of who has the power here. “No excuses,” I tell her. “No lies. I can’t take them, Ali. I just can’t.”
I’m losing it. I let my head fall forward into the nook of her shoulder and nape and do nothing as she wraps her arms around me like a caring mother. Tears spill from my eyes as I pound her like an engine piston working overtime.
“Why did you do this to me?” I moan. “Why?”
This will be the hardest kill of my life.
How will I be able to live with myself after it’s done?
Ali somehow goes off before me. Her sex clamps down on my shaft, and her body trembles against mine, causing me to burst inside her. I rest my teeth against the exposed skin of her shoulder where her shirt is hanging loose. I am not present as I come. All that’s there is my basic, inner self. The me that’s in love with Ali and cannot make rational decisions at this moment. It’s only when we both start to come down that I actually return and realize what I’ve done.
I’m a sick bastard.
I look at my blade, still pressed against her chest.
It’s time. All I have to do is press my hand against the butt of the handle with enough pressure and she’ll be gone. But when I raise my head and see the tenderness and compassion in her eyes, I know I just can’t do it.
“Fuck…”
“We’re sick, aren’t we?” Ali’s question is like a shock to the heart. Something I was not expecting. I frown at her, and she just giggles. “I mean–what kind of girl can come when a man is holding a knife to her chest?”
I’m lost. Like a ship at sea without a compass and no sign of land. I thought I had this all figured out, but the way Ali is reacting now has me questioning everything.
“Yes…” I stutter. “We’re sick. I…”
“You really had me worried there for a second,” she titters. “I thought you might actually be trying to hurt me. But I know you would never do that to me. Would you, Parker?”
My foundation collapses like a Jenga stack. Pieces of me scatter everywhere. I thought I had a handle on the situation. I thought I understood what had to happen. Who Ali was. Now I’m not sure. Even the best actress in the world couldn’t put on this good of a performance.
Is it possible she’s not a mole?
“Why did you put the sensor in the building?” I ask her, my pulse pounding heavily in my ears. To my surprise, she actually smiles.
“I wanted to know when you were down there. When you were watching me.” She shrugs and bites her lower lip. “It was exciting. But you know that, don’t you? You find it exciting to stalk me.”
Oh my God, she’s actually being serious right now. Ali has no idea I was really going to kill her tonight. She just thinks I was playing out our kinky little game–ramping up the intensity or something. Her eyes are glazed with post-orgasmic bliss, and she’s absolutely glowing like a happy drunk.
Although there is a little something beneath it all. A questioning look like she has more she wants to say to me.
Or am I just imagining things?
It wouldn’t be the first time.
“I…I’m wrong for you, Ali.” It’s like an axe being embedded into my chest as I speak the words.
“Oh, really?” she sasses back. “Is this when you tell me I’ll be better off with a nice, normal guy who has never fired a gun and likes boring, missionary sex where I’ll never get off?”
“Stop messing around–”
“ Me messing around?” For the first time, she actually snaps back at me. “You’re the one playing games, Parker. I stalked you for nearly a week and don’t know a goddamn thing about you!”
I’m still inside her. Still hard.
I could go again right now, but I slip out of her, causing her to gasp.
“You’re better off not knowing,” I grumble as I stuff my erection back into my pants. “You’ll be safer that way.”
“Safer?” She laughs. “Says the man who pointed at a gun at me and threatened to kill me with a knife–not once, but twice!”
“I thought you liked it?” I counter.
“I did! But if you have something you’re hiding from me, come out and tell me. Don’t make up some excuse that I’m safer not being around you, because that sounds like a steaming pile of horseshit.”
She’s right. Of course she’s right. I’ve done nothing but fuck this whole thing up since the start. It’s a miracle I’m even standing here with her right now. No, not a miracle. It’s fate. Ali and I are meant to be together. I see it now. And my mission in life from here on out is to make sure that she is with me and that she is safe.
“Okay,” I say tenderly, wrapping my arms around her. “I’ll tell you everything. But you’re not going to like it.”