Whispers

Chapter 3:

When I make it back to the bar there are only about 7 people left conscious, and even they are close to passing out due to alcohol consumption. I spot Joel over with the bartender, talking himself up with a wild tale he's probably exaggerating more than he knows. I sneak up behind him, snaking my arms around his shoulders and neck. He leans into me, "Hello Starlight," he smiles, tilting his head back and planting a kiss on my lips. 

I giggle, shifting my hands and sliding them up his shirt. He closes his eyes, moaning slightly as my hands run over his toned muscles. The bartender rolls his eyes, "Get a room," he mumbles. Joel opens his eyes and grins mischievously at me, "With pleasure," he growls, stumbling off his bar stool and dragging me out of the room.

* * * * * * * * * *

I wake up the next morning sore and tired. 

Joel's arms encase my small frame, his cheek resting in the crook of my neck. I sigh as I stretch carefully, not wanting to wake him, but assassins are trained to be alerted by the slightest movement or sound, even in sleep. He shifts, his eyelashes fluttering against my neck as he wakes. I turn in his arms to face him. He grins, suddenly pressing his lips to mine hungrily. 

I pull away after a moment, sliding out from under the covers of Joel's bed and picking up my clothes off of the floor. I tug them on quickly. Joel groans, getting out of bed and putting on his own clothes. I walk out the door without another word and leave his eyes trailing after me.

I make my way to the main office to see Harrison off. I don't know how long I can keep up this relationship with Joel. It was all a game to start with. I'd seen him wanting me so I let him have me (after torturing him for months), bored because I hadn't an assignment in weeks. It is purely physical for me, always had been, but Joel wants anything that is a novelty to him. I was the only girl who hadn't fallen at his feet within the space of three seconds, so he'd made it his personal mission to catch me. 

I don't love him and he doesn't love me, yet we both use each other to get what we want. For me that is sex, for him... well, I guess it's the satisfaction that he 'owns' me. I'm just a trophy to him. He's just a toy to me. But he's starting to get a bit possessive, and I don't care to continue this charade of belonging to him that I've been playing for over 4 months now. I can tell my fellow assassins are disappointed at my 'submissiveness'. Little do they know...

At that moment, I reach the door to Harrison's office. I knock and enter on his call. 

He's standing at the window, his back to me as he stares out at the city before him. I walk over to him, passing his mahogany desk along the way. At the corner of it is a picture in a frame. A small girl, 7 years old, sits under a tree with who is obviously her mother. I smile. I'm the only one who knows Harrison has a wife and daughter. I've been pulled in to protect them both once when a threat had been reported. I've always been Harrison's favourite,

"Might it be too bold of me to ask where you are going, sir?" I ask curiously. He lets out a huff of a laugh, turning to face me, "Still the inquisitive young girl I met all those years ago. All you need to know is that I'm going to a very important meeting," he says with a small smile, yet his stormy grey eyes don't convey his lighthearted tone. 

He pulls a cigarette from his pocket and lights it, putting it between his teeth, "Now remember what I said," he says, abandoning his fake careless voice, "Anyone to question your authority is to be killed, do you understand?" he says firmly. I nod. He sighs, 

"Good," is all he says.

I watch Harrison as his car pulls out of the car park. I'm shaking. I have never been so nervous in my life; not when I made my first kill, not when I got in trouble for letting someone get away, not when I lost my virginity, never.

This is an entirely different ball game. No one is ordering me around, I don't have to do anything I don't want to, I can tell everyone else what to do; I have free reign and control of all the assassins in New York. And I am shitting myself.

My palms sweaty, I clutch onto the piece of paper Harrison gave me, and walk back into the building.

This is going to be bad.