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“Um… can’t I stay with you?” I ask. For some reason, I don’t want to be out of his sight.

“Of course. I’ll grab a blanket,” he says leaving me alone for the first time. I don’t like this at all.

When I wake up again, we are in New York. Customs is a breeze and a blacked-out SUV is waiting for us as soon as we deplane. Again, we don’t have to go through the actual airport. My father was a diplomat, so we traveled a lot. Customs was always the worst. Being from Moscow, with a diplomat for a father, I learned English at a very young age. Despite what people think, diplomats go through customs. The diplomat only has to declare dutiable items. Everyone else in his party goes through as normal. It’s a long and arduous process. I could get used to traveling this way. Danhy deposits me in the passenger seat and gets into the driver’s seat. It’s just him and me.

“Where is home,” I ask as we exit the airport.

“Minnesota,” he says. That explains the accent. “Bleak, about twenty miles from St. Paul.”

“Why there?”

“To keep you safe,” he says.

“And that’s your home?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” I say looking forward. I am so exhausted. I’ve missed sleep. I drop out again.

About fifteen minutes into Ohio, I can’t sleep anymore. He’s still driving.

“What does your wife think of you being gone on missions like this?” I blurt out.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Chapter Three

Danhy

Shaking my head, I chuckle at her blatant question about ‘my wife’. I look over at her out of the corner of my eye, and I can’t stop picturing her with nothing on, under me, her dark hair fanned out over the pillow, as she moans and whines begging me to ease the ache. Fuck. I think adjusting my hips subtly trying to make sure she doesn’t see.

“I don’t have a wife. Yet.” I tell her hoping she gets the hint. “All bullshit aside Pixie, tell me what happened. Have they hurt you? Do you need to be taken to the hospital?” The anger inside of me heating up as I think about all the ways they could have and probably did hurt her. My mind going to the worst of the worst.

“They didn’t do much. I was scared. They were rough when they moved me around. We moved so much. No real plan, I think. It wasn’t until the move before this one, that I saw them not calm. They got a phone call and we moved instantly.” Phone call? Someone warned them we were coming?

“Did you recognize anyone?” I feel like there is more to this and we are missing something.

“I did. His name is Kerkin. He is the brother of a guy I was going to school with. I saw him once when he came to bring Sasha something. He introduced us. I didn’t stay and talk much. He made me…nervous…is zis your word?” She asks not sure she is using the right description.

“It could be. Is that the only time you ever saw him before now?”

“Yes.” Hmmm…so is his brother involved? Could he have joined the school just to get close to her? Fuck. She is not going to be safe until they are both dead. My mind goes to the one question I have to know.

“Are you still a virgin, Pixie? Am I going to find a tight pussy when I stuff my cock inside of it?” I ask her as my hand rubs up and down her thigh. I know she can see my snake poking up through my pants. It’s fine. She might as well get a glimpse at the rest of her life. “Answer me,” I say a bit rougher than I mean to.

“Y-yes. Yes, Danhy. I am still a virgin.” Thank fuck. I think as I take a deep breath. “Are you going to change that tonight?” She licks her lips as she asks the question, her eyes not leaving my cock. Shit. I can feel her mouth wrapping around me as her tongue grazes across the slit. Hmmm. I groan closing my eyes for a second trying to calm down. We have to stop in a bit for the night, and I need to remind myself that I cannot take her virginity in a damn motel. But fuck if I can’t have a taste.

“Not tonight, baby. I won’t do that in a place barely worthy of your visit. But make no mistake about it, you will quench my thirst.” Before either of us can say anything else my phone rings. Looking at the caller ID, I see it is OM.

“Yes.”

“Just checking in. Have you reached the first checkpoint?” The motel we are checking into is a planned stop. We use it as black zones. Buildings where we can house informants and such without having to give information such as names and no ID needed.

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