Beauty and the Assassin

by Nadia Lee

  “Normally, yes. It’s never happened until today.”

  He’s speaking entirely too calmly, like what he did was logical and normal. It’s driving me crazy. “It’s because you were thinking about idiotic plans like getting stabbed on purpose!”

  “No, it’s because I heard your breathing going unsteady and lost focus for a moment.”

  Did that happen? I don’t remember, but then, I was too panicked to remember much of the fight clearly.

  “I’ve never done that with anybody before,” he adds.

  My mouth opens, but no sound comes out. I’m still processing what he just said, and my mind’s too jumbled to say something.

  “I’ve never worried about anybody’s safety when I fight,” he says.

  Finally, I bury my face in my hands. I should’ve known when he showed me the tower of C-4 cream of corn in his pantry. The man isn’t normal. He is certifiable.

  But…

  I’ve never worried about anybody’s safety when I fight.

  I’ve never felt this way about anybody before, either. And I’ve never been around someone who doesn’t mind risking his life to show how much he cares. Initially, Tolyan just wanted me to lure Roy in, but his feelings changed during the time we stayed together. He could’ve left me with the trio, but didn’t. Nobody bleeds for bait, especially after he got the prey he wanted.

  After a moment, I raise my head. Tolyan’s holding out a white Kleenex right in my face.

  I pluck it from his hand. “I’m not crying.”

  “Consider it backup.”

  “Next time you pull something this stupid, I’m going to strangle you.”

  “It was…an elegant solution. You’re too nice to abandon a man who got injured rescuing you.”

  Why must he be so extreme? “There’s a better and easier way.”

  He raises his eyebrow expectantly.

  “You could’ve simply said, ‘I love you.’”

  He frowns. “And you would’ve believed me?”

  “I would have.” Sort of. I don’t know. Hard to say because I was pretty mad at him… “After a while.” I should give him honesty as well.

  He grunts. “Would have taken too long. My way is more efficient.”

  Man. He’s not going to admit I’m right. He’s too stubborn and set in his own ways. And since he’s refusing to take the prescribed medicine, the pain must be muddying his thought process. “You should just focus on getting better.”

  “I’ll feel much better, probably immediately, if…”

  “Yes? I’m listening.”

  “…we have sex right now.”

  I gasp, then laugh. “And rip the stitches? I don’t think so.”

  “Just be gentle. I won’t mind.” He pulls me toward his lap.

  “No!” I wriggle to get off him. “You’re going to mess up the stitches!”

  “If you struggle, they’ll really rip.”

  I stay still.

  He carries me to his bedroom, then lays me on the bed. He places his hands on either side of my face, then looks down at me, his eyes tender.

  My heart gallops. I’ve missed being with him so much. And I’m worried about his injury, annoyed at his cavalier attitude toward it and buzzing with anticipation that he’s going to do something that’s going to change my life forever.

  He brushes the tip of his nose against mine, the gesture loving and playful. “I love you, little fawn.”

  A thick lump clogs my throat. The skin around my eyes grows hot with springing tears.

  My crazy knight in shining armor, my high-handed angel of retribution and justice, my stubborn lover. He isn’t just an unrotten lemon from the universe. He’s the other half of my soul.

  A lump sticks in my throat, and I can’t speak. So I cradle his gorgeous face between my hands, then bring him down for a kiss. We kiss like it’s the first time and the last time. Regardless of what Tolyan claims, I can’t ever erase the memory of him getting injured, fighting for me. Our tongues tangle, and I unbutton his shirt then run my hands all over his torso. His flesh is taut against my palms. It reminds me we’re both alive.

  Very carefully, I wrap my legs around his waist. My fingertips brush the bandage on his side, and I realize intercourse is out of the question, no matter what he said earlier.

  I slowly push him on his uninjured side, then have him roll until he’s lying on his back, and I’m positioned over him, my thighs on each side of his hips. His cock is already hard and straining against his pants. Still devouring his mouth, I undo his belt and pants, then glide his clothes, including his underwear, down to his knees. His dick springs forward, thick and greedy, its tip already glistening.

  My mouth waters at the sight of his need. His blatant desire sends heat through my body. I tingle all the way to my toes.

  Under my gaze, his cock jerks, like it can’t wait anymore. I lick my mouth. I can’t either.

  I wrap my lips around the plum-shaped head. It’s so hot against the tender, sensitive skin inside my mouth. I pull him in deeper, flicking my tongue over the thick shaft.

  I move my head up and down. He reaches over and pushes my hair out of his view. The sight must be a huge turn-on because a low, rough groan vibrates through his chest. His excitement fuels my desire. I grip the base of his cock, since he’s too big to fit into my mouth, and pump my hand to the rhythm I set with my lips.

  Impossibly, his cock grows even harder and larger. More slickness fills my mouth, salty and all Tolyan. The flesh between my legs dampens. Having him go crazy with lust makes me feel powerful. Sexy. And incredibly turned on.

  His grip in my hair tightens, but not enough to hurt. I can see he’s fighting for control, but he’s losing. He thrusts shallowly forward, pushing his dick deeper into my mouth.

  Yes, yes, yes! I moan my approval around his shaft.

  He throws his head back, hot liquid filling my mouth as a climax twists through his gorgeous body. I suck him all in greedily, wanting to draw out the last drop of his orgasm.

  When I finally let go of him, my breath is shallow and fast. I lick my tender lips, and he’s gazing at me like he’s still starved.

  “Come here,” he orders.

  I shake my head. “Uh-uh. You’re going to rest now and recover, like a good patient.”

  His eyes narrow into slits. “There’s no way we’re ending like this.”

  “Your stitches—”

  “They’ll be fine, if you’ll just take off your panties and sit on my face.”

  I gasp at the raw desire in his voice, the dirty image his words create. “I can’t do that,” I protest feebly. It’s one thing when he goes down on me, but something else for me to “sit” on his face. Isn’t it?

  “Yes, you can, or I’m going to have to get up and chase you. I might even have to run.” He gestures at the bandage. “And we can’t have that.”

  I bite my lip. His eyes glow with the most unholy determination. There’s no bargaining with this man.

  Torn between nervousness and excitement, I climb off the bed, reach under my skirt, pull down my underwear and kick it off.

  He smiles wickedly. “Good girl.”

  My face flames. I can’t decide if I’m embarrassed or anxious or dying to mount his head.

  I slowly get back on the mattress and settle myself with my folds somewhere over his chest.

  He gives me a sharp look. “That’s the wrong location. My mouth isn’t over there.”

  “I know.” My mouth is dry. I swallow.

  “Come here, little fawn. Let me make you feel good.”

  Tolyan cups my ass, then pushes me up until I’m where he wants me. His breaths fan over my wet flesh, and I tremble as stark need threads through me. His strong hands rest over my thighs and pull me down.

  My limbs feel too limp with liquid need to resist. His breath grows hotter as my body sinks. Then he licks me, from pussy to clit.

  An electric shock of pleasure shoots all the way to the tips of my toes. I shudde
r and moan as his tongue and lips torture my most delicate flesh, where millions of nerve endings shiver with delight.

  Whatever reluctance or shame I felt earlier is gone. There’s only greed and need as Tolyan urges me to chase my own orgasm.

  The first orgasm hits and my back arches, a strangled scream in my throat. “Tolyan,” I say, my eyes squeezed shut as I try to survive the tsunami of unimaginable pleasure.

  He grunts with satisfaction against me, but he isn’t finished. Not even close.

  He pushes me again. Relentless. Merciless.

  I scream endlessly, my senses spinning out of control as more orgasms crash over me, piling one after another, until I can’t think, just feel.

  I vaguely feel something hot and wet hit my back as I come for what feels like a hundredth time. Only then does he relent.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Tolyan

  After taking the muscle relaxants the doctor prescribed, Angelika breathes evenly next to me in bed. No matter how much I cajoled and tempted her, she absolutely refused to do anything more than oral sex. I wanted to be inside her. Badly. I didn’t expect, however, that she’d still have the control left to say no, to ensure I didn’t re-injure myself.

  I wish I’d hurt the third guy more. I didn’t realize she’d be this worried about a minor cut. But there will be time enough for that. Tonight there is work to do.

  I pull the sheet up over her, get dressed and slip out of the room. The dogs are still out on the rooftop, so I let them back in and give them some food.

  Afterward, I climb into my SUV and settle in for a long drive. The roads are more or less empty once I get out of Los Angeles proper. I hum as I drive along to the special place I’ve set up for Roy Wilks.

  After a couple of hours of speeding, I reach a crumbling hut up on a large hill. Too big to be a hill, really, but too small to be a mountain. It has some growth of vegetation. Despite California’s regular wildfires, the plants always grow back.

  The hut is something I built away from civilization. People think of Southern California as a bustling urban sprawl, but there are pockets of forested wilderness and solitude if you know where to look. Not to mention a lot of desert.

  I reach into the back of the SUV, then put aside the cargo cover and reach under the rear seat to get to the false bottom. You never know when you’re going to need one of those. Or the body bags I’ve stowed. I could teach the Boy Scouts a thing or two about being prepared.

  Roy’s still out cold in one of the bags. I don’t want him dead yet. Just enjoying the effect of tranq mixed with a few other chemicals designed to keep him quiet and limp for several hours. Like his dick.

  I haul the bag over my shoulder and carry him into the hut. I turn on the flashlight I’ve left next to a rough wooden chair. A shovel and a box are on the dirt floor next to the chair, which, in turn, is next to a pile of dirt. A two-foot-wide, six-foot-deep hole waits in the center of the hut, like a predator’s open maw. Digging it was a cumbersome task, but it’s been ready for weeks now.

  I take Roy out of the bag and lay him on the ground with his knees on the edge of the hole and his feet hanging into it. Straddling him, I grab him by the lapels and lift him partway up. His legs slide in. I lower him to the other side, so that he’s lying on his face with his hips on the edge, and arrange his arms so that they’re alongside his body. Another lift, this time from the back, and he slides the rest of the way in.

  He’s out on his feet, but it’s fine. The hole holds him upright. I use the shovel to fill in the empty space between his body and the hole, tamping it down tight every foot or so. When I’m done, the dirt comes to his chin.

  He’s still out of it. He struggles to open his eyes, but fails.

  I don’t want to wait too long. I don’t want Angelika waking up to an empty bed. The muscle relaxants knocked her out, but they won’t make her sleep that long.

  I grab a bottle of water from the SUV, then squat down and splash his face and slap him lightly a few times. He expels a rough breath, then shakes the droplets away.

  His bleary eyes take some time to focus. When they finally do, he says, “You!”

  I smile. “Yes. Me.”

  “You fucker!” His head jerks spasmodically, as though he’s trying to throw a punch. His sluggish brain seems not to realize that he can’t move. “What the fuck…?”

  “You’re stuck.” I get up, pull the chair around and sit in it. “How does it feel to be overpowered by a better man?”

  “Older, maybe,” he says. “You know I’m gonna kill you the second I get out of here, right?”

  Hope isn’t the only thing that springs eternal. The fact that he thinks he can get out of this alive is delusional. Or outright stupid. But then, if he were a smarter man, he wouldn’t have killed Lyosha’s mom, or played that messed-up game with the little fawn. “And how are you going to do that?” I say softly. “Someone coming to rescue you?”

  He pauses for a second. The gears in his head must be turning extra slow. Even though he’s been drugged, shouldn’t adrenaline have kicked in by now? “You fucked up, man. You’re sitting there dead on that chair and you don’t even know it. I have lots of people looking for me!”

  “Ah. Like Courtney Young, perhaps?”

  “Her and a bunch of others.”

  “I see. Well, aside from the fact that she—and your ‘others’—have no idea where you are, I imagine she’s too busy dealing with the police to rescue you.” A petty thief always morphs into a bolder thief. It’s so easy to dig up that she’s been embezzling from her company and dealing fentanyl and black tar heroin on the side. I gave all the evidence to the police in Philadelphia—anonymously, of course—and they should’ve busted her by now. My tips were too good for them to ignore.

  “Lying asshole!”

  This is unoriginal. I have no time to waste with this idiot. I pull out the box labeled HAZARDOUS MATERIAL. I angle it so that he can read the bright red warning.

  “What’s that?” he says, licking cracked lips. Probably dehydrated by now. Not that it matters.

  “The gift you sent. Don’t you remember?” I open the box and take out the jar. The decapitated roaches inside are no longer moving.

  “You sent me that rubber dick!” he protests.

  “That was for harassing Angelika. This is me rejecting the package.” I put on my gloves, the ones I wear when I excise a cancer from the world. And then I pull out the hook.

  “What the hell is that?” His eyes dart around wildly as I dangle it in front of him.

  Why does he bother? There is no way out. I didn’t bring him here just to let him go. “It’s a modified fishing hook. They’re called treble hooks because of the three prongs, but as you can see, I’ve cut one of them off. So now it’s just a double hook.”

  I lean down and slip the two barbs into his nostrils. The metal has been filed down a bit so that they’re duller than they were originally, but they’re still pointed enough to hurt. And the nylon thread that I’ve tied to the hook, despite being thin, is quite strong.

  I slowly pull his head backward. He resists, but the pain inside his nose eventually forces him to give way. Once his head is all the way back, staring at the ceiling, mouth gaping open, I put one boot on the line to hold him there. Then I grab the jar, open it and start dumping the dead roaches into his mouth.

  He tries to spit them out, but there are too many. He makes a choking sound, then begins moaning and crying like a little pussy. I shove more roaches into his mouth and place a large strip of duct tape over his lips. I take my weight off the line and, as his head comes back up, wrap the tape around it a couple of times.

  Now the only sound out of him is pathetic moaning and crying. I look at him. He reacts like he’s being fried alive in boiling oil, but what’s happening to him is mild considering everything he’s done. He’s hurt too many people, and he’s crossed me personally twice—once with Katya and then with Angelika.

  I put a black hood ove
r his head, then clean up the scene and get out of the hut. The sky’s clear, stars bright. The moon’s gorgeous and full, too.

  I inhale the clean night air, then head home.

  Now I’ve fulfilled my son’s tenth birthday wish, and kept my promise to Angelika that Roy will never bother her again.

  I just need to act like a properly injured innocent for a while.

  Chapter Forty

  –Me: Happy belated birthday.

  –Lyosha: Thanks, Dad. I knew you’d come through.

  –Me: My pleasure.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Angelika

  Over the weekend, I play nurse to Tolyan. He says the wound is nothing, but I don’t believe him. The man could get an arm cut off and still say something asinine like “What’s the problem? I have another one.”

  I also spread antibacterial cream over the wound to make sure it doesn’t get infected. Thankfully, he doesn’t complain. He just keeps his mouth shut and lets me do what needs to be done. But the stitches look nasty. And no matter what kind of stoic act he pulls, the wound looks painful.

  I’m not letting Tolyan do anything until the stitches are out and the doctor declares him fully healed. Actually, even then I might still hover a bit if the bruises haven’t faded.

  But on Monday, he insists on going to work.

  “Are you insane? You should call in sick!”

  “Over this?” He gestures at his side. “That would be like calling in sick over a paper cut.”

  Is he serious? “It wasn’t paper that cut you!”

  “Paper would have been sharper than that third-rate knife.”

  “Oh my God, you are so stubborn! And unreasonable!”

  “I’m neither of those things. What I am is rational.” He thinks for a moment. “It’s important I drive you to work. I’m a better driver, know all the defensive maneuvers. I can lose tails and ram the other guy before he can come at us.”