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She nods and stares out over the water.
“How did you know I was CIA?” I ask.
“I didn’t, you just confirmed it.”
“Well played, babe.” I know I need to tell her more, but I haven’t done this before.
I know I need to tell her more, but I haven’t done this before. Something tells me I can be honest with her. “Later I saw this girl getting raped by a guy in an alleyway, and something clicked. They found me sleeping in my bed with blood still on my clothes. After those two incidences my father stepped in and sent me to the Swiss guard when I was twelve. There I expanded my skills and entered a secret chapter of the Company until I found a way out, well kind of anyway.” Not telling her the whole story, me and the guys are still knee deep in Uncle Sam’s shit.
“You were still a kid,” she says, locking eyes with me. I spot something else in them besides anger, is it sadness?
I run a hand over my stubble. “You don’t have to feel sorry for me. My father told me when I visited him last year I was never a kid. I know how people see me.”
“Like the angel of death.” She laughs but it sounds pained.
“No, I’m the one they confess to in the end,” I counter.
“Before you kill them,” she whispers, and I nod.
We are quiet for a while, and I watch her from the corner of my eye. She’s still as beautiful as the last time I saw her. But there is also a strength to her she didn’t have before. Her curves are more pronounced and her tits bigger. My dick grows in my boxers, begging me to fuck her. Damn my girl looks beautiful.
“I want to meet him,” I tell her, but it comes out like an order.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she whispers.
I grab her by the throat and press her against the railing. She clutches at my hands trying to get me off, but I’m much stronger than her.
“You’re choking me,” she gasps, while I apply pressure, and her eyes flutter closed as I step between her spread legs.
A moment passes between us, and I think she might kiss me, instead she kicks me in the balls.
“Fuck,” I roar, grabbing my junk while I let go of her throat a little, and she takes in a lungful of air.
“He is my fucking son, I have a right to see him,” I bark through clenched teeth, adjusting my throbbing cock.
She shakes her head, blinking away the tears I see forming in her eyes. “You don’t deserve to know him.”
“Why?” I bite out, choking her again. But the way she looks at me with those strong defiant eyes, the grip I have on her neck falters.
“Because you threatened to kill me.”
I frown. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“I got an email after what happened in the container; you wrote you were coming after my parents and brothers to kill them because I talked with the police. I didn’t talk to anyone, not even my parents or my brothers.”
I let go of her, and she pushes me away, wiping at her tears before turning around and stomping in the direction of the motel.
What the fuck? I never sent her any fucking email. I don’t care if she talked to the police or her parents. She is mine; no one is going to keep me away from her. But someone did, and I intend to find out who the fucker is and kill him.
“What the hell? Is this why you ran?” I shout after her.
She turns around but keeps walking backward. “What do you think?” she says, opening the door of her room and disappearing inside.
Damn, I grab my phone and dial Vasily’s number.
“Privyet, asshole,” I hear at the other end.
“Can you trace an email from thirteen years ago?” I ask in Russian.
