Chapter 1 #2
I rub the middle of my nose, sucking in a small breath. I am tired, and my body is sticky because of the summer heat. Sweat is dripping underneath my boobs.
I need a shower like yesterday. It's time to get comfy and watch a flick. It's Monday night, and I'm just going to relax. I dance my way to the shower, feeling excited about two things. Number one- I am going to watch The Burning Bed tonight. It's an older movie dealing with domestic violence.
I know the movie will piss me off because of its sensitive content, but bring it!
Any man who beats a woman in my book, is a coward.
I'm not even sure why I want to watch it, given my situation, but I am looking forward to screaming at my television to blow off some steam when the violent parts dance across the screen.
I am a huge fan of true crime and documentaries. I always find the backstory interesting. I love to know what makes people tick. Maybe it will help my skittish nerves when I release all the pent-up frustration I've been holding on to these past few months.
Number 2- My Dark Knight hasn't bugged me or knocked anyone out in the last three weeks. I pray he's tired of me and disappears from my life. I can't predict the future, but I know that my gun just became my new best friend.
Atlas
I laid low and left my pet alone for a few weeks. I was creeping her out, and I understood why she was on edge. Even I must admit it's fucked up what I am doing, but I honestly can't stop myself.
I have been watching her for three months, and maybe it wasn't a good idea to text her here and there, then kick the shit out of the assholes who were treating her like garbage.
I won’t deal with anyone disrespecting her, and I can't stand seeing her even talking to another guy. It drives me crazy with mind-numbing jealousy. I am the only one who has the privilege of speaking with her, and I certainly don't want anyone fucking her!
I don't understand what came over me, but I developed an itch for the girl and needed to scratch it.
I was smitten the first time I ran into her, but my obsession didn't start until I bumped into her the third time.
She wouldn't remember those brief encounters because she only met me at the market, and that brief interaction lasted about 4 minutes.
The other two times, she was oblivious to my presence.
She isn't obsessed like I am, and my dark side wants to punish her for it.
Of course, it’s not her fault that I'm deranged, but I still want to make her pay for my feelings. Our first encounter was in the frozen food aisle at the supermarket. We both reached into the freezer at the same time.
My large hand brushed against her smaller one, which woke up my limp dick. The bastard jumped to attention, and I had to mentally scold him to calm the fuck down. I had never reacted like that with any other woman before.
Of course, that piqued my interest. I wasn't sure what the hell had happened, but I apologized to the pretty dark-haired girl and insisted she grab her Rocky Road ice cream first.
I may be a creepy stalker right now, and my line of work often involves annihilating people, but I am always a gentleman. Even if I must kill a woman in the line of duty, I try to apologize before pulling the trigger. It's never anything personal; it's just another day in the life of an assassin.
Some people may think I am a massive asshole for killing the gentler sex, and maybe I am, but I'm not talking about killing Betty Crocker homemakers over here.
I am dealing with the lowest scum of society. These femme fatales are ruthless, cold-blooded murderers themselves, with no empathy for others.
Most of them are in the skin and organ trade business. They may look sweet and harmless, but believe me, they are just as brutal as I am.
My moral compass is at zero anyway, so it makes no difference if my target is male or female.
I am unbiased when it comes to their genitals.
My do-not-kill zones are children and animals, bringing my compass up several notches.
I take out many human traffickers. Business is always booming in that industry, so the assignments keep me busy.
I don't get involved in the rescue missions. I am not interested in diving that deep into the job. Let the government and non-profits deal with that part of the operation. I would rather remain invisible. It suits me better.
Taking a life means nothing to me. It's as normal as going to the corner store on a Monday afternoon. I never feel guilty or remorseful when I end a person. To me, it's just a regular job. I blend in like any other regular Joe blow when I am out in society.
Although ruthless and unforgiving, I am charming when I must be. I own a legitimate security company that makes it look like I'm an average citizen working and paying my taxes. The company is under a fake name, compliments of the CIA.
The government, including very violent people in high places, hires me to take out whatever underbelly shit that needs to be dealt with.
I never ask questions. I do what I was trained to do…
. KILL. It's ironic that my father wanted me to join the Russian army as a kid.
The idea repulsed me, but I became employed with the American government instead.
I was a sniper for six years before my bid was up. I trained in the Navy Seals and the Delta Forces. Boot camp was brutal, but I loved it.
That's how I became the lethal killer that I am today. It also helped that I didn't have much of a conscience when I signed up for the job. I had a lot of anger built up and needed an outlet for my violent tendencies.
I've seen a lot in my thirty years on this planet. I don't go around just killing people, of course, but if someone pisses me off, I have no problem ending them.
When I resigned from the military, I signed on with the CIA to work for the government privately. I have multiple partners in crime who assist me with the assignments. My right-hand guy is Jacob. He is as violent as I am and is very thorough when it comes to punishing our victims.
Jacob is well known for having destroyed quite a few of these criminals. He uses a unique method on them, and it usually works. The violent ringleaders usually torture and shoot anyone who double-crosses them. These cartels are unforgiving.
My brothers, Zach and Joey, are also part of my team. Zach, whose Russian name is Maxim, is a computer geek. He can track and pinpoint anyone's location. He is also an expert hacker. The man is a genius. Me?
I know nothing about that shit. Joey, known as Lev, is more of a personal assistant to me. He organizes my calendar, chauffeurs me if needed, keeps track of all my assignments, and plans my whole itinerary.
I pay him well for his services and supply him with an excellent living. He is like the sister I never had. I knew he was gay before he knew he was gay. He finally came out to me when we moved to the States.
He was terrified of telling me. He knows I am a violent man, and he thought I was going to beat the shit out of him if I found out he preferred the company of men instead of women. Who he is isn’t a reflection of me.
I don't give a fuck about anyone else's sexual preferences.
I love him just the same. My debauchery is nothing to write home about, so who am I to judge others on their sexual choices?
Suck all the cock you want, little brother.
I'm not judging. Both siblings are aware of my personality.
I am sure they will bombard me with questions regarding the girl when I snatch her.
My other partner, Yara, will throw a few questions my way too. She has a crush on me, but that isn't my problem. It's up to her to keep it professional. I don't owe any of them an explanation regarding my life choices. I'll kidnap and fuck who I want.
What I do on my time is none of their concern. Knowing my temper, they would only push so far. No one can save the pretty dark-haired girl from me. Besides my brothers, only the government knows my real identity. Both my brothers and I changed our names when we came to America.
I made a deal with the CIA when I first joined the Army. All three of us had to be nonexistent to all law enforcement. They wanted me to work for them so badly they agreed to my terms, and that’s why the police couldn’t find me.
My connections make it easy for me to work incognito and do whatever the fuck I want, which enables me to stalk my obsession right under their noses.
I don't ask questions, and I don't take sides.
I will go after the cartels for the government, and I will kill the competitors of the criminals.
They can all murder one another for all I care.
Once I finish an assignment, I receive my payment through wire to a couple of offshore accounts I opened when I started assassinating people for a living.
I am not a nice man who is full of the feels. I train hard, and I fuck hard.
My thoughts went back to Kitten. After our first meeting, I bumped into her again, coming out of a local restaurant. I stopped in to grab a quick bite with Yara when I noticed my green-eyed girl was there. She was sitting with her friend, having dinner and drinks.
I walked by her and smiled, taking in her long dark hair hanging down the middle of her back and those devastating emerald eyes. What a combination against such beautiful fair skin. She is a natural beauty with a fresh, wholesome look, which I like—no fake lashes or heavy makeup.
I've had many willing women in my life, but I grew bored as soon as I screwed them. I need something new, and I believe my pet has what I am looking for.
Yara caught me gazing at the pretty girl and told me to stick my dick in a bucket of ice. She rolled her eyes.
"You want that chick, don't you?"
I told her it was possible, but I wasn't sure yet. If I decided I wanted her, she would be among the first to know.
She laughed at me.
"I know how you are with women. You fuck them and leave them. Go screw her and get it out of your system so we can concentrate on work."
I smiled and changed the subject. I would not get into my sex life with my colleague.
I know she likes me, but the feeling is not mutual.
We work together, and that's it. You don't shit where you eat.
I still wasn't obsessed with Kitten…yet.
I recognized my pet from the market, and when I noticed her at the restaurant, I thought.
What are the fucking odds?
I still wasn't following her at this point.
The third time I saw her was at a club where I was tracking one of my victims. He had gone into the establishment the night she was there. I couldn't believe I ran into her again. Something snapped when I saw her flirting and dancing out there with all those bottom feeders.
She was with the same friend from the restaurant. That evening, she dressed like a little slut. She wore a short miniskirt, a tight tank top, and low-wedged sandals. I could not keep my eyes off her.
That’s when I realized I wanted her, and in the worst way. Her skimpy outfit hugged every luscious curve on her hot little body. That tight ass, pert and round, ready to be spanked by my hand.
I am an ass man all the way. I imagined her crawling to me on all fours like a good girl. I thought about training her to satisfy my kinky, filthy needs. I could not shake the thought from my head. Thinking about putting her through my reward and punishment program sent me over the top.
My dick was getting hard just thinking about all the nasty things I could do with my little sex toy.
She had a nice rack—full and round. I’m guessing she’s about a C cup.
She is petite and very curvy. She looked delicious, and I couldn’t wait to taste her.
My mind wandered off track, thinking about that sweet little package.
I almost lost my target because I gawked at her like an adolescent teenager all night.
I watched her laughing and dancing, having a good time with her friend. She was drinking, and I became a little concerned. All the men were sniffing around the two of them like a bunch of rabid dogs. I felt myself getting pissed off when she danced with the other guys.
I was having a hell of a time keeping my eyes on my hot little number and my unfortunate victim simultaneously.
I was so preoccupied that he almost didn't die that night.
I had to get my fucking shit together and pay attention.
I kept my eyes trained on her the whole evening.
Chatting and dancing like the little social butterfly she was. She was the queen bee out there.
Everyone wanted to be around her, especially the fucking men. I did not want them near her. I was the only one allowed to taste her honey, and I didn’t like to share. She oozed raw sex appeal and had an outgoing personality.
I had an inkling something was terribly wrong inside my head when other men looked at her, and I wanted to break their fucking necks.
I knew she would never stay with me willingly, especially once she knew the horrible things I was capable of, so I decided I had to take her. Who was going to stop me? I wanted to get her into my clutches and see what she was made of, so I started stalking her that night.
I put a GPS tracker in her back wheel well tire because I always needed to know her location. I followed her into the clubs she frequented, watched the men she spent time with, and even knew what she did in her house.
When she installed the security cameras, my business came to the rescue. I ordered my company to give her a huge discount, knowing she would sign the contract with us and not with any of our competitors.
The amount I charged her to install five cameras in her house was almost criminal. When my brother Joey saw the invoice, he asked me if the order was for a friend or someone I was screwing. I told him not to worry about it and left it at that. She's convinced her stalker has moved on.
That is precisely what I need her to think. I couldn't continue making her anxious and pushing her to call the authorities daily. Although I did not exist on paper, I still needed to hide from the police.
I didn't want them to hunt me down, and then I would have more dead bodies to bury. I rarely assassinate police officers, but if they come after me, I won't hesitate to take them out.
My goal isn't to scare the complete shit out of her. I intend to snatch her swiftly and train her to be mine. My skills are of an elite few, and I have perfected them over the years. I am quick and efficient. I am a lethal killing machine. My little pet never had a chance.