Sorry the update is late. In my defense, it's nearly 4k long and the content will justify the delay. Enjoy!
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Andrew
"Anything on Maddison?" George asked.
Andrew stood in the middle of the street, cars zooming past him, honking at each other. He stood leaning on his motorcycle, toying with the visor on the helmet. He hadn't spoken to George since they came to New York. He hadn't told him about the antidotes or that he hadn't stopped Diana from figuring out Majesty had made fake ones. If George found that out, Maya would die.
He had asked himself the question many times over the span of the previous weeks. Why is Maya so important to him?
In Phi, things were done out of interest. Had Maya saved him from his father only to use him, like George said? Had she ever loved him or was it an act?
He had come to realize it didn't matter. She had killed his father and took Andrew under her wing, for whatever reason. She had saved his family from abuse and poverty. She didn't want Andrew to side with Majesty and she didn't ask to be saved. It was Andrew's choice and that's what was so haunting about it. How this played out, whoever died during the fight— it would be Andrew's fault. He could go to Cassie, ask for help. Or he could detach himself from the team, look at them as a means to get to the end result.
But Maya didn't train a cold-blooded killer. And his mother didn't raise a liar.
Andrew looked up at the buildings around him. If George was with him now, there would be no way he could lie and get away with it. "No. I don't think Cassandra knows much about Maddison at all. She seems confused at the mention of her whereabouts. She says she's dead."
The week before, Andrew had willingly left his post with Martina. He knew Majesty wouldn't attack as Andrew hadn't told George about it yet. He had gone to the gym with one intention. Get Cassandra to talk to him about Maddison. He was going to use her.
When he saw her punching that bag, nearly hyperventilating, he couldn't do it. She was so graceful, like a vengeful angel, despite her iffy boxing technique, which he attributed to her bad mood.
"She's a good liar, Agent Jackson." There was a pause, "You didn't believe her words, did you? Because despite everything, she is a Phi assassin. She doesn't make intentions known."
"I'm working my best on getting information, don't you worry," Andrew said, his voice cold.
He pushed George's words to the back of his head, hoping to silence the doubt. Cassandra wasn't just a vengeful angel. She was a cat, sly and resourceful.
"We're watching Gomez and his children. They've been considering giving up the drug to us and fleeing the country. There's a party tomorrow night. The Squad will be around in case Majesty finds out. That's ideally when she wants to make a move."
"Tomorrow night, Majesty's men will take Gomez and his brats," George said. "She won't be pleased they tried to betray her. And you better ensure Cassandra doesn't die in that fight. She can still be useful."
"What about the others?"
"I couldn't care less."
"Got it," Andrew hung up and took out his ear piece, wishing to stop every contact with George. He climbed the bike and revved the engine, shooting off to the one place he knew he could find Cassandra.
#
"You seem nervous," Andrew said.
Cassie lowered the gun, eyeing the hole-riddled target. "No, why?"
He smiled, stepping away from the entrance and onto the mat. "Just asking."
"What are you doing here?"
He shrugged. "Came to get some practice."
She raised an eyebrow. "In that case find yourself an empty room. This one's occupied."
He shrugged again. "I don't mind."
She bit her lip, bolting towards Andrew and throwing him to the floor. He stared at her in disbelief. "What was that for?!"
She smirked. "It's my way of knocking a guy off his feet." She checked her nails. "And judging by the lack of reaction to my attack, you need more practice than you think."
He rose, getting up into a low crouch. He looked like a wolf ready to strike. "Oh, we'll see."
Cassie dodged the punch, kicking Andrew in the back. He stumbled forward, stopping himself before falling and turned. "Come on Jackson," she said hopping from foot to foot. "You're letting a girl beat you up."
His eyes locked with hers. She was smiling, daring him to come at her. His cogs turned, a plan forming. He charged, throwing a punch to her right. She grabbed his arm and twisting it behind his back. He stumbled to the ground.
"I win," she said.
He panted, bent on his arms and knees, his hair falling in his eyes. She had relaxed. "No, you don't." He spun around, pulling her foot to the side and.
She fell and Andrew pinned her arms above her head, pulling the knife free from the side of her belt and holding it to her throat.
"You beat up a girl and you pick pocket her while you're at it. That's cruel," she said, looking from the blade to Andrew's eyes, her chest rising steady. His eyes darted from her lips to her neck. If he moved his hand by an inch, he'd slit her throat.
But if he moved his lips...
"I win," he said, dazed, throwing the knife to the side and letting go of her wrists.
She licked her lips.
Her hands shot up from the side and hit Andrew in the elbows, making them buckle.
Their lips met.
Warmth spread through Andrew's body, a strange pull making him want to get closer to Cassie. Closer than he'd ever been. Thoughts of the party and the gala Gomez was attending withered from his head. He kept one of his hands on Cassie's waist. Her hand rested on his chest, holding onto the collar of his shirt, the other one resting on his cheek.
They rolled over again and Andrew heard a cock of a gun.
Cassandra's lips weren't on his anymore.
"I definitely win that one," she whispered in his ear, before her weight was lifted off his body.
He looked up to see a gun pointed at his forehead. He shook his head, sitting up and fixing the hair she had messed up. "Do you beat everyone in sparring by kissing them?" he asked, getting up to his feet.
She pocketed the gun. "Not always."
"I can't believe you just did that just to win." Not that he was complaining. "Not your style."
She shrugged, reaching up to mess his hair again. "Don't do that to your hair. It looks better the way I left it." She stepped away, Andrew's heart dropping into his heels. "Rule number one; distract your opponent."
He laughed, disbelief rising in him. "Are you serious?"
"Do I look like I'm joking?"
"I thought—"
"There's no place for emotion in this business, Jackson."
He shook his head. "You're damn right."
She did a roundhouse kick, her foot landing inches away from the punching bag. "I'm just hoping things go well tomorrow."
He was happy she wasn't looking at him. Joue ta role, he thought. Play your role. "It'll be fine."
"You can't know that though. She could be one step ahead of us."
"She's not. You've planned this out and made sure we stayed under the radar as much as possible. Majesty won't even think to look for us here. She doesn't even know we're aware Gomez exists."
She sighed. "I hope you're right, because... because."
He walked close to her. "No. Tell me why you hope I'm right."
She looked to be contemplating it, but then closed her eyes. "Because if anyone else dies and it has to be my fault, I'll go insane."
Despite her kissing him for distraction to win a fight, despite the role he had to play, Andrew cupped her face, his touch more sincere than his words. Would he be feeling this if they met under different circumstances? Would he have bothered to look behind the layers of toughness she put up? Would he be able to see anything?
Was what he was seeing even real? He had no clue.
"Nobody will get hurt." I promise.
But he wasn't about to make a promise he won't be able to keep. Maybe that was all there was. Cassandra used him and he used her.
#
Andrew ran a hand through his hair, fixing his tie. He had worn a suit a total of two times in his life- once to his father's funeral and the second time during their London mission. The collar or the tie had never bothered him before. Tonight, it suffocated him. He messed with it, attempting to loosen the choke-hold. The watch on his wrist shone in the artificial light, the knowledge the ear piece it held was going to set off tonight's events.
He entered the small hallway, separating the rooms from the living room and knocked on the last door. "Cassandra?"
The room was empty. The bed was perfectly made, like no one had slept in it. A red dress hung on the closet door, a pair of heels next to it on the floor. Andrew turned to leave as the bathroom door opened.
Andrew's eyes widened, blush creeping up his cheeks.
Cassandra stepped onto the carpet, a towel wrapped around herself.
"I'll wait outside," Andrew said, scratching the back of his neck.
"No need," she said, grabbing something out of the closet and returning to the bathroom and leaving Andrew red from collar to hairline with one hand on the doorknob.
She reappeared after a long moment, this time in her underwear. Andrew's eyes trailed her body. He noticed her curves and sculptured shoulders, how her muscles moved as she walked to the closer, taking the dress off the hanger.
Scars ran across her abdomen. She pulled the dress over her head, allowing him to take a closer look at her stomach. It looked like a wild animal had clawed at her, leaving deep pink gashes. He felt a chill running down his back. What happened to her?
"You might want to close your mouth," She said, fixing the straps of her dress. "Help zip it?"
Andrew unglued his sweaty palm from the knob. Cassie moved her hair from her back, turning around. He reached for the zipper, hands shaking. He fumbled with it for a couple of seconds, before getting it to work.
When he was done, he took a step back and Cassandra turned to the full-length mirror, smirking at her reflection. She ran a hand through her hair, clipping the front with a pin.
Andrew had never seen her with hair down as she always wore it braided or in a ponytail. He wanted to tell her she looked beautiful, but as he watched her slip on a pair of heels and throw a leather jacket over her shoulders, he got a feeling she already knew.
Hurt coursed through him again. Does she know his feelings for her?
"Aren't you two looking expensive?" Bill said when they entered the living room, wiggling his eyebrows.
"Fuck off," Cassandra and Andrew said at the same time.
Diana looked up from her laptop, her mouth an 'O' shape. Cassandra raised her eyebrows at the gesture and Diana returned to typing, a grin on her face. Andrew noticed she was wearing purple lipstick, which in his opinion was an odd color to put on one's face.
"Chloe left already?" Cassandra asked, checking the clock on the kitchen wall.
"I'm heading out in a bit too," Bill said.
They'd had to split up, deciding to send Chloe and Bill to watch Pablo and Martina and Pablo's party, while Andrew and Cassie went to watch Gomez and his wife at a gala after which Gomez promised to give them the drug.
"Diana, I won't have my watch on me, it would stand out. If you need anything, tell Andrew and he'll let me know."
Andrew gave a curt nod, not meeting anyone's eyes. He headed for the elevator, Cassandra in tow. "Cassie," Bill called. He had looked away from the TV, his eyes locked on Cassandra. "Be careful."
She nodded, bypassing Andrew and continuing down the hall. His heart clenched. That was the first thing that had come out of Bill's mouth in the past month that wasn't an insult or a sarcastic comment.
"We'll take a cab."
"I can drive," Andrew said. He needed to have his bike on hand, whatever the outcome.
"Don't be ridiculous."
"We can leave it a block down and walk to the venue."
Cassandra grabbed his left wrist, twisting it upwards to look at his watch. "Fine," she said. "We don't have time to wait for the cab anyway."
"You could've asked for the time," Andrew said.
"Since when do I do things the easy way?"
Andrew rolled his eyes, turning to slip the helmet onto her head before starting the bike. "Hold on."
He navigated the streets with Diana's help, feeling the wind in his face. He loved speed. It made him feel free and untouchable. The wind didn't feel harsh on his skin, forming a protective cushion of air around him and numbing his thoughts to the choice he ought to make.
"Turn left at the next intersection," Diana said.
Andrew switched lanes, sliding into the turn. He felt Cassandra's grip tighten around his torso. "That's it. You have reached your destination," Diana said with a chuckle.
"Thanks, Di." Andrew stopped the bike, lowering on of his feet to the ground. He checked to make sure the rest of the alley was empty, before following after Cassie.
"Don't draw attention," she said. "We don't want anyone being suspicious."
They reached the entrance, a wave of warm air hitting Andrew's face when he entered the lobby.
"Your names, please," a man said. He held what was, no doubt, the guest list and prepared a pen.
"Boh Adesso and Alessio Cibelli," Cassandra said, the Italian names rolling off tongue effortlessly. He had forgotten she was Italian. Unlike his occasion accent, there was nothing to give Cassandra away. Andrew felt her nails dig into his forearm. Her shoulders tensed a little when the man looked down at the list.
"I'm sorry miss, I can't seem to find you on the list."
"Would you mind checking again? I'm pretty certain we should be."
The man occupied himself with reading through the list again, lifting his eyes after a couple of seconds. "I apologize, I overlooked them. You're right here." He moved aside for the two of them to pass.
The grip on Andrew's arm eased and Cassandra slipped off her jacket, folding it over her arm.
"Boh Adesso?" he said, the first sound rolling off his tongue with a slight accent. "What kind of name is that?"
She shrugged, scanning the room. It was vast and well-lit. On each of the tables, there was a candle, illuminating the plates and cutlery, while the overhead lights were dimmed to get an effect of elegance. "It's a mockery."
"Evidement." Andrew said. 'Boh' was nothing more than a way to tell people you're not interested to talk and Adesso, an Italian word meaning 'now'. In translation, Cassandra had named herself 'I don't want to fucking tell you right now.'
"At least I don't have a dead person's name."
Andrew approached the table, greeting the people sitting at it and pulled out Cassandra's chair. She smiled at him, taking a glass of champagne. They were seated at the very back, with the rest of the less important people. It allowed for them to be unnoticed and have a full view of the room, as there were no tables and their backs were to the wall. It was practical but it also sent a message. They belonged at the back.
"Jackson is not my real last name, you know that, right?" He had taken the name of the American president, per Maya's request. Andrew was his given name, although the French often called him André or Andy, like his sister.
"What?"
"You said at least I have a dead person's name. Well, Andrew Jackson isn't my real name."
She gave him a side-glare. "I was talking about your current name, Alessio."
Andrew cleared his throat. He may have misunderstood that one. "Oh."
Cassandra leaned in her seat. "Yeah. Oh." She then smiled a little.
"What happened to him?"
"Alessio Cibelli was a name of the last client I had before I was taken back to Phi. He paid me to kill a friend of his because he'd found out that his trophy-wife was cheating. What he didn't know is that his wife found out. She had seen me at their home and, after assuming I was Alessio's mistress, paid me double to give her something to put in his coffee."
Andrew tensed. Cassandra didn't pay him any mind.
"So you killed your client and not the other guy?"
"I killed them both. I had worked on getting myself into the position to talk to Alonzo for 3 months. I knew everything about him, including that he was a messenger for Majesty. I would've killed him, no matter what you pay me. Alessio was just to prove I can." She got up. "I'll be right back."
He watched her as she exited the room. She looked like a goddess dressed in the blood of her enemies. It was as if she was trying to make it easier on him to betray her, like she was showing him that she wasn't a good person after all.
He thought back to how she treated the others. She was always tough, sometimes too tough, but never without a reason.
Light music played. Andrew hadn't noticed the orchestra until he heard the melody of the waltz. People around him rose up and went to dance. He knew only the basics of the dance, courtesy of late-night dance lessons from his mother. He wondered what she would think if she saw him now, about to betray someone who had extended a trusting hand. He could hear her voice. "I taught you better," she'd say. "There's always another way."
"Wanna dance?" Cassandra asked, startling him.
"You want to dance?" He asked in disbelief.
She grabbed his hand, dragging him to the middle of the dance floor. Andrew went stiff when she guided his hand, wrapping it around her waist. She put hers around his neck. "I didn't know you dance," he murmured, not meeting her eyes.
"You don't much about me." She smiled.
"Why don't you tell me, then?"
She looked down at their feet. "Because it wouldn't change anything."
"I thought we weren't supposed to bring attention to ourselves."
"If there's other people dancing, we don't stand out."
He nodded.
They swayed to the beat, Andrew shoving the proper waltz technique to the back of his head. All he could think about was the music, the soft lights and the girl in front of him. She didn't need him. Maybe that's why he needed her.
The next song began and they stayed on the dance floor. He let the moment take him away from reality. For once, he didn't have his eyes trained on a target, he was without ulterior motives.
A plump lady in a tight dress tapped Cassie's shoulder, stopping the two of them as the second song ended.
"Would you mind if we switched partners?"
Cassandra gave her a relaxed smile and nodded, taking the hand of an elderly gentlemen. Andrew gave a polite nod to the woman. She wore a dark green dress with bat sleeves that nearly smacked Andrew's face when her arms wrapped around his neck. She leveled him in height, courtesy of her crocodile-skin stilettos.
"Are you having a good time?" She asked, brushing a strand of her black hair behind her ear.
"Uh, yes. What about you?"
"My night just took a turn for the better," she winked.
Andrew choked on his own spit, clearing his throat. Blush threatened to surface on his cheeks. He averted his eyes from the woman, whose lack of regard for personal space was becoming even more obnoxious than his tie.
As the song drew to a close, he threw another glance at Cassandra, who had taken a seat next to the older guy, making small talk with Gomez's wife. Gomez put a hand in his pocket, taking something out.
"What do you say?" the woman asked, her breath hot as she whisper\ed in his ear. He wasn't listening to her as Cassandra's eyes flickered over to the green vial. She leaned forward saying something and then the entire table laughed.
Andrew's heart beat faster. After all the struggle they went though, they deserved a win. "Merde," Andrew swore, looking around for any sign of Majesty's men.
"What was that?" the woman asked as he tried to push past her and get to the table. "Where are you going? The song is not over."
Andrew cleared his throat, attempting to free himself from her arms, but she had latched onto him. He slipped the ear piece into his ear. "George, it's time."
Cassandra turned to look at him, noticing the commotion on the dance floor, drug hidden in the palm of her hand.
That's when the first bullet fired.
_________
Phew! A long while since we spent time in Andrew's head. Safe to say that was a lot to take in right there. I hope you found it as heartbreaking as I did. But don't you worry!....It gets worse.
I've received some lovely messages of encouragement (you know who you are) and i just wanna say thanks. They mean a lot to me and definitely motivated to get this chapter done sooner.
Anyways, remember to vote and comment. Feel free to leave your thoughts on the plot and characters (or how stupid you think their decisions are).
Until the next update.
Happy holidays and happy writing,
Sara