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I smile smugly. I may be a ruthless killer who is deadly with his hands, but I am also someone who can bring my piccolo pleasure over and over again. She allows my deadly hands to touch her body. She sees the good in me, even when the bad overpowers it. She accepts me the way I am.
“You saved me even after everything…” I whisper, not really meaning to say it out loud. I know she hears it, though, the minute her eyes darken with lust and she smiles. She is ready for me again, I am sure. This is dangerous—she is dangerous. Even if I don’t want to admit it, she causes my heart to beat harder and faster, and suddenly my thoughts turn to taking her against the wall again.
I keep gazing out the window, pulling back the shades as I wait for Mack to show the fuck up already. He said he would be here soon… Obviously his soon and my soon aren’t the same.
“You never told me about your family. Do you have brothers or sisters?” Bree asks, so I turn around to face her. She has on one of my shirts and a cup of tea in her hands. She let me fuck her two more times before saying she needed to shower. Then I climbed in and took her a third time. She is addicting.
“No siblings who I know of. My father and mother are both dead.” Saying it always makes it seem real again, which hurts far more than the bullet wound in my shoulder. I never talk about my parents to anyone, so I don’t know why I am spilling my guts to her.
“No siblings for me either. My mom got sick not long after I was born.” She sounds defeated as she talks about her mom. I knew when her father came for money what his story was. His wife had died from cancer, so he was alone with a daughter and needs to find a way to make ends meet.
“What type of cancer did she have?” I ask, wanting to take the focus off myself, even if only for a short amount of time. There is a pause as she takes a drink from her cup. Once her lips leave the rim of the coffee cup, she seems to be lost in memories.
“Ovarian cancer.” I know nothing about cancer. It has claimed many people in this world, but I have never had taken the time to learn more about any of it. Not that I have ever met anyone with cancer. We didn’t hang around death. We simply killed and went on our way.
“I’m sorry,” I offer sincerely. I am not sure what else to say. What is someone like me who has more blood on his hands than anyone to say to someone who has lost a parent to cancer? Even worse is that I was going to take her father, her last relative alive. I know exactly why she gave herself up. I understand.
“Don’t be,” she hiccups. A small tear streams down her cheek. Her doe eyes smile at me as her lips shake. What the fuck? Why the hell did I bring this up?
“I am, though,” I reiterate, moving closer to her. I may be hateful and so very fucked up, but my heart breaks for Bree. It breaks because I know what it is like to be alone in a world full of people. I know how quiet it is even in a crowded room.
My hands wrap around her, wanting nothing more than to shield her from the pain. How can that even be possible, when I am the only person in the room who can bring her pain?
“What about your parents?” she asks, smiling. My arms drop from her sides instantly. Can I talk about this with her? Can I tell her how my mother had been killed by the very people who were trained to protect this country?
I feel the coldness seeping into my bones, the walls coming back up. Can I do this to her? Can I make her tell me her secrets without telling her my own?
“I….” I am stuttering over my words. I am actually, for the first time in my fucking life, left speechless.
“My mom was killed,” I state in such an obvious manner. I know she knows that much, but she doesn’t know how it happened.
“I know,” she says calmly, as if waiting for me to finish my sentence.
I sigh, taking a step back to sit on the oversized chair. I am actually going to tell her the story. Memories assault me: the crying, the screams of my mom, the fear I felt in her words.
“She was killed when I was eight by the FBI or at least that’s what’s being said now… I don’t know why, and I don’t know who did it. She was a good woman and was never involved with anything that my father had dealt with.”
I watch Bree approach the side of the couch slowly before deciding it is safe enough to take a seat next to me.
“I swore from that moment on that I would do whatever I could to find her killers, that I would hunt them down and destroy them… Every member of their family would suffer for her loss. They owed me their lives, and I promised to collect.”
My eyes stay trained on the floor. I can’t look at her.
“So you planned on avenging your mother’s death?” she asks, her voice so soft.
“I didn’t just plan on avenging her death. I planned on ripping those people from their loved ones as they took my mother from me. She was the last thing I had when it comes to a family. I was left with no one when she died. I am the heir to the King money and mafia crown.”
A moment of silence passes, and I look up to see if she is still with me.
“Killing people never brought her back, though, and it just ate at you, at your insides. I know it did because looking at who you are now and the person you were when I first met you, seems as if I have met two people.”
