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Kazimir hollers in delight, amused Saint would say that, but he doesn’t understand that Saint has said this to me for a reason. And when Kazimir’s dick lunges at me, I know what that reason is.
Saint said that to me because I bit him—hard. And now, he wants me to do it again.
“Yes, be a good bitch, and suck it.”
There is no way around this. Kazimir won’t let me go until he gets what he wants, so I close my eyes, swallow down my revulsion, and surrender. The moment I do, he thrusts his dick into my mouth, and I fight the instinct to recoil.
He groans loudly, encouraging me to take him in deeper, then moans when I do. He still has the gun pressed to my cheek, but the pressure slackens as his guard lowers. He may have only been in my mouth for mere seconds, but it’s mere seconds too long.
The grip on my hair loosens, and when he unthreads his fingers, I brace myself for what I have to do. Kazimir moans in Russian while his friends holler in encouragement, voicing it’s their turn next. The blood whooshes through my veins, and I count down. I need something to prepare me for what I’m about to do.
Three…
Two…
One…
I pull back, ensuring I have a firm grip, and when I do…I bite down. There is silence before an explosion erupts. Kazimir’s shrieks are bloodcurdling, and in some sick, perverse way, they’re music to my ears.
He frantically shoves at my forehead, trying to pry me off, but I only bite down harder, shaking my head from side to side. He called me a bitch, so I intend to act like one. Rage overtakes me, and all I want to do is hurt him just how he did to me.
The moment the gun drops from his hand and tumbles to the floor, I hear an ear-splitting roar. The room then explodes into pandemonium.
I use my ears as I’m still on my knees with a locked jaw, gnawing off this bastard’s dick. When I taste blood, it only has me biting down harder. Fighting erupts around me, and I can only hope Saint is the one delivering those punishing punches.
Kazimir begins twitching, and I assume he’s on the cusp of passing out from the pain. I should feel remorse, but I don’t. Blood and spittle trickle down my chin.
I jolt violently when I hear gunshots pop around the small room, but when I feel a comforting touch at the back of my neck, I sag in relief. “A????, let him go.”
The thought of letting this bastard go after what he’s done to me feels almost blasphemous, causing me to snarl. But when Saint strokes along my cheek, I eventually comply. My jaw aches as I slowly release him, and Kazimir drops to the floor, twitching as blood spurts from the gaping wound I inflicted at the base of his dick.
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, transfixed as it comes away with blood. But when what I did smashes into me, my stomach roils, and I feel bile rising. I lunge forward on all fours and throw up violently. My body shudders, and my head grows light.
“Go upstairs,” Saint gently orders, arranging my bra and dress as best he can so I’m no longer bare.
The wind still howls around us, rocking the boat from side to side. So if Saint believes being up there in the storm is safer than being down here, I’m afraid to know what he’s about to do.
When I think I can breathe again, I lift my head gradually and peer up at Saint. My bloody warrior is slathered in war paint while his victims lay in broken, lifeless heaps around the room.
“Being Popov’s number one…hitman.”
This is just another day in the office for Saint. Being around blood, gore, and murder is nothing new for a hitman.
Saint crouches before me, carefully reaching out as if he doesn’t want to spook me. But I remain perfectly still. He grips my chin between his thumb and forefinger, sweeping his thumb under my lip as if wiping it clean. I realize I’m still coated in blood when his thumb comes away with a smear of red. “Go,” he commands softly, his eyes combing over every inch of my face.
There is so much I want to say, but it will have to wait.
On hands and knees, I feel almost feral, but I suppose what I did to Kazimir can classify as being animalistic. I’ve crossed a line, and I have a feeling it’s just the beginning. Slowly rising, I step over the unmoving bodies, pulling it together.
As I open the door, I almost tumble over from the force of the wind. The weather is punishing, but I persevere and slam the door shut behind me. The heavy rain pelts down around me, making it hard to see and hear. Brushing the hair from my face, I peer around from left to right, squinting to see if I can find a life vest. The boat thrashes to the side, but I hold the railing to keep my balance. The waves crash down around me, and a bolt of lightning illuminates just how rough the waters really are.
My body shivers, though it’s not from the cold or being soaking wet; it’s from the adrenaline coursing through my veins. I focus on the small glass window on the door. When I see consecutive booms of light, I shudder, knowing what they are.
Gunshots.
Kazimir has paid the ultimate price for betraying Saint. They all have. Everything suddenly crashes into me, and I feel faint. My legs are as firm as overcooked spaghetti, and I slump to the floor. Tears merge with the rain, and soon, I can’t tell the difference between the two.
Who have I become? Just a few minutes ago, I was intent on gnawing off a man’s penis. If Saint hadn’t stopped me, I would be sitting here picking the flesh from my teeth. Opening my mouth, I tip my face to the heavens, needing to be baptized and wash away my sins.
