Exhausted from carrying Annabelle to the van, and refusing to let anyone else take over, I still manage to climb in and gently lay her down on the back seat. She hasn't come to yet and, after checking her for injuries, the only thing we can guess is that she's still drugged. Or drugged again. Maybe they've kept her like this since they took her.
Brent take a seat on the passenger side, while Jackson drives us back to Athens. The plan is to stay there long enough to grab our things and for Anna to wake up, before heading to the airport. Brent informs us that he took out one guy out back and another in the house, which makes four total. From the looks of the inside of the house, the four kidnappers were squatting at the vacation home of the Greek businessman. Won't he be in for a surprise when he's contacted about dead bodies stinking up his house.
Anna's head is resting on my lap for the drive, but no matter how long I stare at her face, she's unresponsive. No slight movement like in normal sleep, but dead weight. I wish I'd had the opportunity to shoot one of those bastards for doing this to her. She would so hate it, being helpless.
Brushing back the hair from her face, I lean down and kiss her softly on the lips. Sitting in the back of the dark van, I finally let the immense relief wash over me. She's safe and within the next 24 hours, we'll be on a plane to somewhere else. Doesn't matter where, cause we'll be together. And maybe having Jackson along for the ride isn't so bad after all. To think what would have happened had I not had help. Maybe the same thing that happened to Annabelle's parents. Both of us dead.
Driving through Athens, a phone starts ringing with a ringtone of Adam Ant's 'Goody Two Shoes'. It doesn't wake Annabelle, unfortunately. Brent answers with a, "Hello?" and not much is said on his end of the conversation. I figure it's Simon from what he's saying, confirming that we have Anna, that everyone's alright, then he ends the conversation with, "Okay, see you then."
Stroking Anna's hair, I realize that I'm about to meet her parent, uncle, whatever. Wonder if he'll have a shotgun with him. Instead of the normal fatherly warning of possessing a shotgun, Simon will probably just promise to make me disappear if I hurt her. Maybe he'd be creative and throw in a little torture for good measure. I'd like to think that Annabelle and I are done hurting each other. To never hurt her again or make her want to strike out at me is the goal. Cupping her cheek, I lean down to give her another peck, this time on the forehead.
Jackson barely manages to parallel park the van in a tight spot just down the street from the house. Gathering Anna in my arms, I climb out of the van and start walking to the house. The lights are on and Simon is waiting. Jackson jogs ahead of me and opens the front door. Brent is at my back and I can feel the tension and his awareness of everything going on around us. We don't know who else is in Athens gunning for us. Relieved that I didn't just take a sniper bullet to the back of the head, I step into the entryway.
Stopping in my tracks, I just stare at the man a few feet in front of me. Strange, I pictured him looking differently, maybe taller. Don't get me wrong, the guy is in great shape for being middle-aged and not bad looking either, but I guess I was expecting a James Bond type. This guy more inconspicuous. Medium brown hair, brown eyes, average height, plain clothing, not too attractive. He stares right back at me, as if giving me time to take in his presence.
Brent passes by me, heading for the kitchen. I shift Annabelle in my arms and Simon steps forward, reaching out to take her from me. Keeping eye contact with him, I shake my head and walk to her room. The sound of the shower already running lets me know Jackson's whereabouts. Using the toe of my boot to nudge her door open, I enter and lay her down over the comforter.
Not turning around, because I can feel him behind me, I just stand there, looking down at her, "Do you know who's doing this?"
"I think you know who it is," he answers.
Feeling a sense of despair, my head drops, "I was hoping it wasn't, but I couldn't think of anyone else it could be, at least not anyone else that I know."
"I'm leaving on a plane tonight to take care of it."
Resigned to what has to be done, I nod. Looking over my shoulder, I meet his gaze, "Thank you."
His eyes shift from my face to look at that of the girl on the bed, "If you hurt her again--"
"Then I'll shoot myself." I say earnestly.
A thoughtful expression crosses his face, “Yes, I believe you would.” Two seconds later, Simon is gone. A few seconds after that, the front door slams shut.
Thinking that Jackson’s idea of a shower is brilliant, but not wanting to be separated from Annabelle even by a wall, I sit down at the foot of the bed, the mattress bounces, but still she sleeps. Reaching down, I tug off my boots and strip of my cargo pants and t-shirt. Crawling up the bed, I pull her into my arms and am out.
Holy crap, my head hurts. This is worse than the time I drank an entire bottle of Irish whiskey in Dublin. This is even worse than the time when Jackson kicked me in the head during training. Someone get me some drugs, please! Of course, that's what has me feeling like shit in the first place.
Groaning, I blink open my eyes, only to look into another pair, not a foot away. Okay, what happened to me being kidnapped? Bad dream? Feeling ultra dehydrated, I rasp out, “What happened?”
He chuckles softly, “I saved the day, with minimal help, and got the girl.”
“Did you now?” Glancing over his head, squinting, I see the morning light shining through the white curtains. “Damn, it’s a new day isn’t it?”
He grabs both of my hands in his, “A new beginning.”
Raising my eyebrows, I give him my best skeptical look, “Is it now?”
His smile falters, “I love you, Annabelle.”
Reaching out to cup his jaw, I whisper back, “I know.”
Pulling me closer, until my body is flush with his, he attempts to kiss me, but I avert my face. Uncertainly, he says my name.
“No offense, Gabriel, but I haven’t brushed my teeth or showered in two days, so your amorous attentions will have to wait.”
His laugh is louder this time and I find myself being carried into the bathroom. He sets me down on the counter, “Wait right there, baby.” Leaning over the tub, he starts the shower, fiddling with the knobs until he’s satisfied with the temperature.
Feeling awkward, I start pulling off my tank top. He’s only wearing a pair of boxer briefs and smirks at me as he strips them off. I roll my eyes and twist around to grab my toothbrush and apply some toothpaste to it, then I get to work preventing cavities. Not that the fuckers gave me any food while under their care. Food is definitely next on the agenda after a shower. Finishing up, I wipe my mouth with a hand towel. When I turn back around, Gabriel is there, ready to assist me with the rest of my clothing. I find myself being pampered and washed in the shower, then watch as Gabriel soaps himself up.
I’m not surprised when I find myself against the shower wall, with my legs wrapped around him, being made love to. But, I am ecstatic. Gabriel muffles the sound of my ecstasy with his lips on mine. I return the favor when he groans into my mouth. Hugging him to me, I know that I’ll never let him go again.
“I love you too, Gabriel.”
Getting into the building was as simple as busting the lock on the stairway exit. On the sixth floor, taking out the two guards gave me open access to the office past them. Now, I’m standing here, pointing a gun at the threat.
Lucy Garcia sneers, “You’ll die for this.”
“No, you will,” I calmly inform her, then pull the trigger. Lucy Garcia, aunt to Gabriel Sanchez is no longer a threat. The original contract on Xavier Sanchez was traced back to her as well. It seems, she meant to slowly eliminate the Sanchez family until herself and her son inherited the fortune and businesses, both legal and illegal. It can be assumed that the death of Gabriel's mother can also be blamed on Lucy.
My family is safe once again. Or, at least as safe as we ever are.
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Killing Me Softly - Teenage Assassin - aka Young Love MurderTeen Fiction
This isn’t a love story, it’s a love adventure. First love’s a killer, but so is seventeen-year-old Annabelle Blanc. She was raised to be an assassin and taught to never fall in love. She’s at the top of her game until she meets Gabriel Sanchez. Tot...