I'm going to die.
That was the first thing that came into my mind when the mysterious man said my name and something about his boss. I panicked. It's pathetic for a guy to panic but could I be blamed? Any guy would freak knowing the Mafia was after them and since they knew who they were, anything could happen to their family.
I was too busy freaking out I didn't have time to even realize if the guy talking was the same one from the parking lot in Burger King. Now I was sitting on the passenger seat with my eyes closed too ashamed to open my eyes and I knew that the moment I looked at Neil I'd remember the kiss.
His lips were hot and smooth, kissing me so passionately, his hands were large and calloused but gentle. I forced the image away and shook my head after opening my eyes reluctantly gazing at Neil. He was still wearing those spectacles, making his jawline sharper; my fingers twitched at the urge to touch the jaw—feel his tawny skin.
"You're staring, Matt. It's getting hard to believe I'm not your type when you're looking at me like that." His deep voice brought a shiver of delight down my spine. I blinked, heat rushed to my face for the up tenth time—cringing my nose, "Shut up, you're not my type." I grumbled, biting my lower lip.
Neil glanced at my direction and cocked an eyebrow, "Do you even have a type?"
The blush didn't subside as I shrunk myself more onto the seat with a small pout. Lips stretched onto a smile, honey brown orbs glinting in his own sick amusement. "That's none of your business."
"So, that's a no," He intoned, "How cute."
I glowered, "I'm not 'cute'. Stop calling me 'cute' goddamn it, you really piss me off." I snapped, frowning in anguish; there wasn't a single moment when he didn't piss me off. There was nothing cute about me and I bet he just kissed me to mess with me. He shouldn't have done it to begin with, it's not like I had feelings for him or anything.
I mean, I admit he's hot, attractive, strong, smart, annoying, scary, skillful, and a flirt. His dark locks were framing his face which was then swept and tamed but now was cut and dyed to ginger brown. Honey brown eyes that glinted in promised death, glistened in amusement and softened when gazing at me. His lips pulled into a frown, a smile, a smirk, or curled in anger.
His tawny skin—tan with flecks of gold to it, shimmering when the sun bathed him in light. More often than not I wondered what he looked like underneath all those clothes, how it would be like to run my hands over his muscles, trace the lines and curves, feel them tighten up, twitch, and just relax all at once. He was tall, so damn tall and it annoyed me but graced me with long muscular legs by his jeans.
"Here I thought we were getting somewhere," He spoke in a singsong tone, "You know, after that kiss and all."
A dark blush crawled from my neck, up my cheeks, and to the tip of my ears; I wish he'd stop teasing me. "That kiss doesn't mean anything." I unintentionally squeaked as if it was going to help the situation at all. Neil rolled his eyes, "That's great, deny it, pretty boy. I don't just kiss random people." He stated.
I scoffed trying to recover from the blush, "Believe me, I'm far from random."
"Exactly. You're really slow at things aren't you?"
"What? No! What the hell are you talking about?" I frowned in confusion as he merely shook his head at me without saying another word. I wasn't slow, I'm always perceptive about things that are going on—well at least I thought I was because clearly, I wasn't sharp enough to avoid getting kidnapped. I grunted to myself, my fingers brushed over the collar around my throat and felt the smooth, glass-like black fingerprinting device at the center of it.
I didn't pull it because the last thing I wanted was to get shocked again; my blue eyes drifted to our surroundings and I noticed the change of scenery. Bright green trees with thick trunks shone down by the golden rays of the heat. The small brush of wind was enough to ruffle its leaves, passing by in a lonely road towards a much more forest area in Chicago.
I've never been to Chicago before so I was sort of surprised seeing something like this in the evening. My gaze flickered to the side mirror, the farther we went the less I saw the city that was lively with people entering and leaving shops or sitting on benches of small resting areas and parks. There wasn't a single sign of life only nature; as the silence dragged on I noticed how very little cars passed by here.
I rested my head against the window to gaze at Neil again, it was hard to keep my eyes away from him for too long. It was stupid of me because I didn't actually know him all that well. To top everything off he's a Hitman, I know he wouldn't kill me since he didn't shoot me the first time I tried to escape. He was really scary, I was surprised I didn't get a panic attack when I woke up handcuffed to a bed.
Neil was scary when he became angry but his threats could only do so much to keep me from doing anything he didn't like. He was twisted that I'd admit since I didn't understand how he could enjoy killing people. Granted, the people he killed weren't good yet still, he was taking the lives of others like it was a game.
He wasn't all that bad, even though Neil was way too sarcastic for my taste and had a really short fuse except there was a side of him I liked. He was funny, honest, he smiled, assured me I'd be safe so it helped me relax more while on a journey to my death. I didn't know what to expect when this was all over—if it was ever over.
I didn't think I'd ever be able to forget Neil in my life, not after all of this that happened. Despite not agreeing in killing, I had to say Neil as pretty badass with a gun. "You're smiling like an idiot and I'm starting to think you lost your mind." Neil pointed bluntly snapping me out of my temporary stupor.
"Shut up. How much longer will it take to get there? I'm bored here." I changed the subject not wanting to dwell on it or talk to Neil about it since he already had an ego the size of Mars. "A few more minutes. There are some rules we have to go over while we stay there." Neil said.
"Don't bother, I was never good at following rules," I deadpanned.
He heaved a sigh appearing exhausted which quickly had me concerned—which I really wish I wasn't. "Are you okay? You don't look very good." My eyes scrutinized his face as it grew a bit pale, then it dawned on me and cursed at myself for being so stupid. I reached forward taking him by surprise when I slipped my hand over his back, "Whoa! What are you doing? If you want to grope me wait until we reach the safe house." Neil cut me a look.
I rolled my eyes at his indication but I had a feeling he was doing it to distract me. As stubborn as I was I found a set of stitches on his left shoulder and cringed at the feel of warm moisture meeting the tips of my fingers. I pulled away confirming the remnants of blood on my skin, "You're bleeding again, how long have you been like this?" I gaped in surprise.
The blood still felt warm, trickling down my long, soft fingers which were quite a lot; I bit my lower lip to fight the waves of nausea settled within me. "Probably over an hour." He murmured in response.
My eyes widened at his nonchalance, he'd been bleeding out for an hour, fucking driving, and he looked exhausted. Guilt overpowered my nausea as I realized that the reason why he was bleeding on the driver's seat was because I was stupid enough to talk to some random guy asking questions. If I hadn't spoken to that man in the first place Neil wouldn't have to hurt himself again.
"I'm sorry, I-"
"Nope," He interrupted, "Don't start apologizing. I told you I'd protect you and protecting means getting hurt. I'm fine Matt, I'm hard to kill." He grinned like nothing—it didn't help; how could he just shrug it off like that? I'd seen the movies when a guy had to protect someone and ended up hurt.
I had seen 'The Terminator' and the last thing I wanted was for Neil to die protecting me, "Matt," He called softly, pulling the car to a stop while I stared at his own blood drying on my fingers. I could hear him rustling around until his hand reached over with a napkin trying to clean off as much of his blood as possible.
"Don't worry about it. I know it's scary, I know this isn't something you can handle but bear with me. I told you I'd protect you and take you back home once this is over didn't I? Stop crying." I didn't realize I was crying until my vision grew blurry; ever since I met Neil I'd been crying like a fucking girl. I'm a guy. I shouldn't be crying.
His thumb wiped the tears trailing a path down my cheeks, it was a soothing affectionate gesture. "Neil, I'm sorry. I keep getting you hurt and causing so much trouble for you. I'm pathetic." My voice was brittle, cracking slightly. Once he was done cleaning my hand, he dropped the napkin on the cup holder and placed his other hand on the side of my head.
His fingers plowed through my black hair, my blue eyes lifted to gaze at his face and there was a small smile on his lips. His glasses made his eyes appear sharper, "I don't know what to do with you. You have a bad luck of bringing trouble with you so don't worry about it. You're not pathetic, you're human, humans cry; you have the kind of heart I can never get and that makes you strong." I shivered when his lips pressed onto my forehead and I closed my eyes relishing at the feeling of his hand on my cheek and lips on my skin.
I'm always contradicting myself; I wasn't such a mess until I met Neil and somehow I realized I was always a mess. I pulled a front that I was fine, I believed I was fine and it's all crumbling away. Neil may not be the type to comfort someone when they're emotional but there's something about him. There's something I couldn't put my finger on that made me feel bare, incapable of putting the mask on my face.
It slipped right off.
"Let's go inside, you can make yourself at home." I nodded slowly in response feeling a slight disappointment when we put some distance between us and exited the car. I wondered what was I expecting from him. Was it a kiss? Was it more words of comfort? To be embraced by his toned arms? I don't know.
My eyes widened in awe at the modern designed, elegant cottage; it had a front porch with two seats beside the door. It appeared to have two floors because it had some kind of balcony on the second floor with a chimney and a patio. It was pretty big, with trees surrounding the cottage and grass rising from the stone pathway.
"Nice, right?" Neil beamed with a grin, I was left speechless since I lived in a normal house with four rooms, a backyard, and a front yard. "If I could I would live here forever."
I cocked my head to the side trying to catch up to him as he ascended the steps of the front porch. "Why don't you?" I inquired out of curiosity; he shrugged, "I'm a Hitman. At some point, someone would find out where this place is and it would be pretty stupid of me if I didn't have another place to move to if it comes to that. This place is my favorite—my safe haven—but we'll have to move at some point again." He was searching in his pockets with a set of keys he had from the loft and looked through the dozen keys.
For some reason, I felt nostalgic being surrounded by so much nature with a fresh, musky smell weighing heavily in the air. I was too used to the air of the city always being polluted by smokers and it's refreshing to breathe air that wasn't contaminated. That and the excitement of having a bed to sleep in that wasn't a motel.
"How long will we stay here for?" I peered over his shoulder as he inserted a key into the keyhole and unlocked the cottage. "Not sure. Probably a few days to a week or until things are much calmer and safer. Too many people are looking for us so I rather wait until the heat is down before we get back in the road." He pushed the door open and flicked a switch from the right side of the door.
When the lights came on and he stepped aside to let me in, I was left speechless again. The living room had a black leather couch facing a mounted, plasma television to the right side of the cottage. The kitchen was across the couch with a small foyer in between, beside the kitchen were clear glass slide open doors with burgundy curtains and a dining table with a set of four chairs.
There was an open entrance in front of the dining table leading to another room but I couldn't see much. It was decorated modern style, floors made of wood and waxed. Everything here was mostly made of wood except the kitchen tops made of marble, the coffee table in front of the leather couch is made of glass, and the walls appeared to be more out of clay.
The door closed behind me, Neil's chest met my shoulder, "Stairs are over there," He pointed toward the foyer, "And fireplace over there." He then pointed towards the entrance in front of the dining table.
I smiled, "This is so cool." I made my way to the kitchen, hand raking through the marble top of the kitchen island with only two, tall chairs. The refrigerator was one of those steel modern types with a touchscreen and three different compartments. The cabinets of the kitchen were made of wood too with a modern smooth stove that turns on electrically.
I walked to the fridge seeing it stocked with so many foods; all of this makes me feel like cooking something good today. "You should go and take a shower first." I suggested to Neil as I closed the refrigerator and went towards the sink placing my hands in front of the motion sensor and the faucet turns on. "Already bossing me around in my house? You're not going to try anything, are you?"
His teasing tone had me glare at him when he leaned against the wall—the corner of the foyer. "No, I'm going to wash my hands, take a knife, and kill you. Is that what you want?" I retorted sharply making him smile humorously, "I like it when you're feisty."
I went to grab the bottle of soap to throw it at him but he took the opportunity to disappear through the foyer with a full-hearted laugh. I stopped, his deep laughter echoed in my ears and I pulled in a sharp breath. "I'm in trouble." I murmured at the subtle epiphany enlightening my mind.
I focused on preparing one of the dishes my mother used to make when she wasn't too busy working. I had to learn how to cook because I had to babysit my little sister, one thing for certain was that I wouldn't pay for a babysitter no matter what. I didn't trust them no matter how friendly, kind, caring, and pretty they may be. I was hit with a wave of homesickness; I miss them.
I missed waking up in the morning with my little sister bouncing on my bed trying to get me to wake up to eat breakfast with her before she left. Despite knowing my classes started later than hers I still made her smile by coming downstairs to eat breakfast with her and help my mother make sure she's ready for school. Sometimes I'd drive her to school if my mother needs to be in early as my father.
I hated to admit it but I also miss those assholes, Brian and Chrisander who would be a huge pain in my ass. They couldn't do anything without me those pair of idiots. We're like the three stooges, I'm Moe, Chrisander was Larry, and Brian was Curly. We're like brothers even though I already had an older brother but we weren't as close as we were before.
I'd be lucky to get a call from him once a month. He must have heard about my kidnapping, right? I wonder how he was doing. Was he still attending his classes? Was he sad like everyone else? I hesitated for a moment, should I check? Should I see the news?
I breathed in trying to gather all of my courage as I turned off the stove covering the food with the lid. All there was left to do was serve it and that's going to have to wait until I satisfied my curiosity. So I walked towards the leather couch finding the remote on the corner and switched the television on. Luckily I had access to cable and I punched in the numbers by memory.
The news channel came on, lowering the volume. At the moment there's a reporter talking about an incident that happened somewhere in New York. I grew anxious the longer I waited, maybe I already missed it. I didn't know what I was doing standing next to the couch gazing at the television with a remote on my hand. I probably looked like a dumbass so I just turned it off and dropped it back on the couch.
It's better if I didn't, I didn't know how I'd feel and it'd be that much harder for me doing that. I shook my head, it wouldn't change anything even if I did see it, it'll just make me cry and look like an idiot again. My attention focused on serving the plate of fettuccine Alfredo chicken; a smile came across my face eager to dig into my favorite food.
"What is that? It smells so good." I heard Neil's voice coming from the stairs and my heart fluttered knowing he liked the way my food smelled. "Why don't you come over here and find out?" I encouraged placing both plates on the kitchen island turning around to fetch for the utensils.
When I turned back around I nearly jumped off my skin seeing Neil sitting there with a wolfish grin across his lips. His dyed ginger brown hair glossy with small rivulets of water falling onto his shoulder. His honey brown eyes glistened in amusement; he only wore a see-through white tank top and pants showing off the toned muscles of his fit body.
I tried not to stare too much to boost his ego as I put down the fork on either plate. Instantly, Neil's attention fell on the food and started to obnoxiously slurp the fettuccine. I rolled my eyes sitting down on the chair, resting my feet onto a stool; I started swirling the fork around the long spaghetti but soon stopped when I felt him drilling holes to the side of my face.
I sighed in annoyance, "What?"
"Where did you learn to cook like this?" He sounded like he still had food in his mouth causing me to scowl when I turned my face to him. "Don't talk with food in your mouth and my mom taught me."
He chewed on the food for a while before he gave a solemn look making me shift on my seat uncomfortably. "Marry me."
I gave a dull stare, "No way in hell," I said bluntly and he made a pained expression, "Now finish eating."
He grunted to himself doing as I told him to, I started digging into my dinner and relief flooded me. I didn't realize how hungry I was after that car chase and nearly getting shot. I cringed at the thought ignoring Neil's babbling which I found kind of amusing. He seemingly relaxed occasionally moving his shoulder and every time he did it made me feel guilty.
It wasn't until I was nearly done and Neil was talking about a show called 'The Blacklist'—I didn't want to say anything considering I already finished all four seasons and he's still on season three. It's funny how he looked so irritated and how some things were done wrong which I didn't doubt he's right. I stood up standing behind him but he was too busy talking and messing around with the remaining fettuccine to pay attention to me.
My fingers traced over the stitches visible through the white tank top hugging his large back. He jolted in astonishment, "What are you doing?" He asked.
I hesitated, fingers feeling the stitches again and much to my relief he doesn't seem to be bleeding anymore. "Does it hurt?" I inquired in a soft voice; I had to clear my throat for sounding like I'm worried when I shouldn't be. "Not that much. Are you okay? You've been pretty quiet." Neil sounded concerned.
I rolled my eyes at him as he turned around on the chair facing me completely, "It's nothing." He cocked his head clearly unconvinced, "It wouldn't be nothing if you aren't being a pain in my ass." I glared which only made him smirk.
"I said it's nothing." I moved to get to the sink except I was locked in place with his large hands gripping my hips. A shudder raked through my body and a blush rose to my cheeks, "It wouldn't be nothing when it has you upset," He pointed out softly nearly making me flinch at how accurate he was.
I placed my hands over his moving them away from my hips only for him to grab onto my hands. His thumb caressed the back of my hand, "I'll be honest here and say I suck. I suck at this kind of thing but it doesn't mean you can't talk to me when something is bothering you."
"Why do you care?" I questioned, tilting my head in curiosity; his honey brown orbs stared long and hard. "I simply do." He gave a short response doing nothing to satisfy me.
He pulled me closer as I averted my gaze turning my face away from him, "We barely know each other." I mumbled.
"True," He agreed, "Yet I know when something upsets you, I know how to handle your asthma attacks without an asthma pump, I know when I piss you off, I know the things you like, and your little habits. You're an open book to me, I know something's bothering you."
I wasn't persuaded, I doubt I ever told him the things I liked, "What do I like then?"
"You like going outside, you like trying new things, you like getting in trouble, you like running—a lot, and you like talking to people." A hard blush rushed to my face again; most of the assumptions he made were because of my mistake. "I don't want to hear the answers you give everyone else when they ask you. Seeing it on your face tells me what you like and don't like, for example, you won't admit it but you're actually enjoying yourself."
A smile came across my lips trying not to show how he was right, "I know you miss your family too." My heart squeezed at his words; pulling ever-so-closer to him until I was being embraced as a way to comfort me. I buried my face onto his collarbone with his chin resting onto the top of my head. "How long is this going to take?" My voice became a mere whisper.
"As long as it takes, I can't promise you anything but you can trust my word when I say I'll bring you back home as soon as I fix this."
I inhaled his strong manly scent of spice mixed with something surprisingly soft. "When are you going to take off my collar?" I changed the subject; I didn't want any more reasons than I'm already given to feel this way.
I simply can't help it.
He snorted, "Not happening, good luck getting me to take it off."
"Jerk."
"Thanks, pretty boy, I work really hard to be one."
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