Dancing with her, I run my hands down her back. At the feel of her tremble, a predatory smile comes to my lips. I have her now. When she gets up on her toes and begins to kiss my neck, I lean down and suggest that she meet me in the parking lot in five minutes. She eagerly agrees, her eyes conveying her lust. But, she's a predator too, and I also see that in her eyes.
A quick phone call and a few minutes later, I discreetly follow her out of the club, slipping on a pair of leather gloves as I go. Winter in Ontario is brutal. When I reach her, standing under a streetlamp in her coat, she gives me a knowing look. "How about we go to my place?"
Nonchalantly, I ask, "Where's your car?"
She gestures to a white sedan to the left. "I'll drive."
As she unlocks the car with the press of a button, instead of sliding into the passenger seat, I slide into the back. The syringe is at her neck before she even shuts her door. With the slightest pressure on the plunger, I push the drugs into her system. This isn't a slow-acting poison, this is instantaneous and more merciful than someone like her deserves. She thought she'd get away with murder. She was wrong.
Stepping out of the vehicle, I walk down the block to the waiting car. This time, I get in on the front passenger seat. "It's done."
"You look good as a blonde, Gabriel," Annabelle teases.
I give her an amused smile, "So do you."
She laughs and leans over to kiss me. Taking advantage, I pull her closer, "Love you." I'm liking the thin material of her dress.
Wrapping her arms around my neck, with a satisfied look on her face she smiles, "I love you too. But Gabriel—"
"I know, I know," I cut her off, "You get to do the next job."
Laughing, she kisses my nose, then straightens herself out in her seat, gripping the wheel, "That's not what I was going to say." She glances at me sideways and starts to drive, "I was just going to tell you that watching you dance with that woman has me feeling all possessive. I don't know if I can wait until we get to the cabin to reassert my claim on you."
Holding out my hands in mock surrender, I say seriously, "Reassert away. I won't even charge you this time."
"Whatever," she hands me her phone, "Check in with Simon." She runs a hand up my thigh, "Tell him the contract is completed, but that we're going to be on vacation for the next week or two."
Raising one eyebrow, I throw her a skeptical look, "Only a week or two?"
She lets out a dramatic sigh, "You're right, better make it a month or two."
"That's my girl," I murmur approvingly while dialing Simon.
After getting off with Simon, my thoughts roam back to what happened six months ago. Aunt Lucy's funeral. Max took it hard, his mom's murder, but he can never know the truth. Finding out that my parent was a monster was horrible enough for me to want to shield him from it.
I've learned that there are two kinds of monsters, though. The bad ones like my father and Aunt Lucy and the good ones, like us. Sometimes, the good ones take out the bad ones.
We're spending spring break with Max in Mexico and I'm hoping he'll be doing better by then. At least school and life in New York serve as a distraction for him. I know they kept me going when I thought Annabelle was dead.
Watching her fiddle with the radio, I wonder what my life would have been like had she never come into it.
No, I don't even want to think about it.
Boredom, apathy, dissatisfaction. Feelings I've grown all too familiar with. Another job just completed tonight and now I'm lying in the dark in this hotel room, with another naked woman next to me. Unforgettable and eventually nameless like all the rest. The feeling that there's something I'm missing, something I need to find, is nagging me again. If only I knew what that something is. Twenty-three years old is too young to be having any sort of mid-life crisis. Is there such a thing as a mid-twenties crisis?
The job I completed tonight was another drug dealer. Drugs make my world go round, considering all the business I get by killing their producers. Hell, I watched the woman lying next to me tonight snort a line before we fucked. The restless feeling is returning again with a vengeance. Like I need to open up the window and scream out into the cold Amsterdam night. Disgusted with myself and my life, I slide off the bed and start fumbling in the dark for my clothes.
When my phone rings, the woman stirs, and I think about being gone before she wakes. That hopeful look on their faces the next morning always annoys me. Guilt is another feeling I try to avoid with all the rest. I hate when they look to me like I'm the answer to their messed up lives. I've got my own life to worry about.
"I'm here," I quickly answer before the call goes to voicemail.
Simon gets right to the point, "Jackson, I have another job for you . . ."
**Jackson will get his own story in War With Love**
UPDATE: War With Love - *Release Date* November 11, 2015
War With Love - *Cover Reveal* October 21, 2015
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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...