Chapter 21 Villain #2
I started laughing because everything was so ridiculous, from the mountain lion licking himself in the middle of my marshmallow bed to the incredibly tasteless clothes Dirk had left for me.
I laughed until tears slid down my cheeks.
I ended with my face in my hands, hunched over on the fluffy white couch.
There I was crying again. “This room is ridiculous.” No, I was ridiculous, crying like a child.
She hesitated and then carefully patted my shoulder, not the sore one.
“For Vegas, it’s downright classy. I’m sorry I didn’t check you out right away.
Minx can get kind of unbalanced, and I had to take care of the women, but I forgot what kind of quiet and brooding critter you are.
You’d just go to a cave and lick your wounds and then come out breathing fire once you didn’t die.
This time, you would have died. I guess I’ll have to send a thank-you card to Dirk’s mama for kidnapping you.
You must have really wanted to kill him. ”
I nodded and wrapped my arms around my knees. “I had a knife at his throat. It’s not nearly as nice as this one. He left it for me so I can kill him the next time we meet, when I’m not hampered by blood loss and bullet shrapnel.” I held up the pretty dagger.
She whistled appreciatively. “See, now I get it. The clothes are a total fail, but if he gets you in the weapons where you feel it, that’s doable. After you told his mom where she could put her bribe, what happened?”
“I told her the account number and then I found Dirk down on the G level, taking a nap.”
“You could have killed him in his sleep, but you didn’t.
Good. Wait until after the Three-Hundred to kill him.
You took the money, I suppose that means you’re going to have to very publicly date Dirk just to antagonize his dear mama.
It’s not my style, but I like it. Has grit.
Intention. What are you going to do with the money?
You could start a nice weapons collection, all daggers for the sake of your love, or a little love nest, which would be a nice bit of irony. ”
I shook my head. “I think I’d like to donate to a women’s shelter, since that’s the theme of this month’s Girl’s Night.
” Is that what I thought? I mean, two million was a drop in the Haversham fortune.
Throw away money. It might make a difference in someone’s life, but not nearly as much as what Jezebel did, actually rescuing a truck filled with women headed for the worst pits in the world.
I shuddered while she nodded soberly, running her hands over my arm in an incredibly painful way.
“That does fit the theme. Feels good,” she said, straightening up.
“And now you need another bandage. Are you going to lounge around in those trashed pajamas? You probably should order incredibly expensive room service and anything else that piques your interest, since Dirk wants to pay. Did you tell him what his mama said?”
I shook my head. “No, but he’ll probably figure it out if he hasn’t already. He’s much smarter than he looks. Jezebel, what did you do when your target’s mother offered you money to leave him alone?”
She got a blank look on her face. “Did I say that?”
“Welcome to the gold-digger ranks.”
She frowned. “His mother never kidnapped me and offered me money to leave him alone. No, he accused me of being a gold-digger and then offered me the official position of his paid mistress.”
I winced. “That’s worse. What did you do? I suppose you took care of him, dumped him in the desert like a respectable woman.”
She sighed heavily and sank down on the couch next to me, legs outstretched.
“Love does terrible things to people. I wanted to say yes, can you imagine? Oh, that’d be a picture, Jezebel Whiskey being some rich snob’s bought woman.
I guess I did say yes, and then the second I got my mind back, I ran. ”
“Was he your target?”
She gave a half-hearted shrug. “I suppose, in a way. I wanted respectability, like all the other elegant, glamorous people had. I didn’t realize that it was as fake as my breasts.
I keep telling my surgeon that I should be able to use some of the space for weapon holders or something useful, but he thinks that they’d get infected.
Well,” she said, standing up and stretching.
“I’m going to head home and sleep until tomorrow morning.
If you need anything, if the arm gets red and swollen, give me a holler. ”
When she reached the door, I stood up and went over to grab her hand. “Jezebel, thank you for coming to check on me. You shouldn’t care about me, about anyone, because that makes you weak and vulnerable.”
She flashed me a grin and squeezed my hand back.
“You sound like I did ten years ago. That path leads to loneliness. For some people, the isolation is worse than the risk. If I were reading you, which I’m not, because I don’t stick my nose where it doesn’t belong, I’d say that you’ve had enough loneliness to last a lifetime.
But like I said, I’m not reading you, so do what you want.
I left Prudence in the parking lot so you can drive home without waiting on a man or paying ridiculous taxi fares, although hotel parking isn’t much better.
” She rolled her eyes and went into the hall, leaving me alone with an enormous bed and racks of clothing as ridiculous as my entire situation.
What should I do? I started for the bed, climbed under the covers and pulled the note out of my pocket.
I’m offended that our date was cut so short. Next time, no prior injuries to interrupt us. You’re beautiful, dangerous, a goddess of death, even in puppy slippers.
~D
He certainly didn’t wax flowery and long-winded in his notes, so why was heart doing the fluttery tingling thing?
I’d never had anyone give me a note before.
Other than death threats. What was I going to do about Dirk?
About his mother? About my inability to pull the trigger?
I’d actually called the therapist. Horse.
It would be ridiculous to go and talk to someone I couldn’t trust, but I hadn’t been able to pull the trigger or put the dagger through Dirk.
Put the dirk through Dagger? Either way.
I wasn’t in control. I couldn’t keep screwing up or I would die, and worse, get other people killed.
Minx. She’d shot those guys so cold and crisp, like a real assassin, the best of the best. And then had a mental breakdown.
At least she’d pulled the trigger first. I had a mental breakdown first. Her way was much safer.
So what to do? I could forget about this scheme and go back to Boston. But as long as I wasn’t in control, my options were severely limited. Living with Jezebel was dangerous because she wasn’t entirely stable, but at the same time, very secure because who would be stupid enough to take her on?
And Dirk. I was going to kill him, but at the same time, could I actually date him? Of course not. That would be ridiculous. The very idea made my heart flutter as if I were going into cardiac arrest. I would forget everything the second he kissed me. Or I kissed him.
I was here to destroy him, but until I regained control over myself, I was the one who’d be destroyed.
He was so irritatingly handsome with that chiseled jaw, tilted arrogantly while his eyes burned and his hands pinned me to the wall.
He was very strong. He still tasted of chocolate. So, what to do?
I had an appointment for therapy at four. It hurt to admit it, but I hadn’t progressed since I’d made the call. Maybe I could get something useful out of him if he weren’t actually a therapist.
And as for Dirk, I owed him a letter.
I found a nice pad of paper and a very pretty pen on the bedside table. I stared at the paper for a long time, wrote half a sentence, scratched it out and then wrote another. After six crumpled-up sheets, I had something almost right.
I can’t kill you until after the Three-Hundred, as per Jezebel’s orders. You’re lucky that your videography skills are in such high demand. We will spar, I will take your blood, and then we will eat Chinese food and watch Scooby Doo. You will not distract me with your kisses.
~V
P.S. I could have signed off as ‘D’, but that might have confused you. You’re the real villain, though. I won’t forget that.
I nodded and folded the note, then snuggled deeper under the covers and fell asleep, absolutely not thinking about Dirk distracting me with his kisses. Fine. I relived his kisses until my toes went tingly. No, that was my bullet wound.
At four o’clock, I went directly to the front desk and slid the card in front of the dark-haired man standing behind the counter.
He wasn’t nearly as good as the woman because somehow he made me feel like a high-class prostitute being called for one of the more self-important guests without saying a word.
“How may I assist you?”
I gave him a hard smile. “Could you give this to Dirk Dagger when you see him?” I asked, holding the folded paper out to him.
His expression changed at the mention of Dirk.
He hurriedly got a crisp white envelope out of a drawer and held it open while I put my letter paper inside, so he didn’t actually touch the note, almost like he was paid more when his clients felt like their privacy was being respected.
“Of course, madame. Anything else?” His stiff smile and ‘madame’ made me want to stab him.
Could I make myself stab him? I had the beautiful knife inside my bag, but I had my doubts if I could handle actually shoving it through his flesh.
Nope. My stomach rebelled at the thought.
Also, my hands started shaking. I clearly needed therapy if I couldn’t even stab someone.
“Yes, see that all the clothing from my room are packed and delivered to Jezebel Whiskey’s address. Understand?”