Live Wire

by Bijou Hunter

  "Allergies? We have plenty of pills inside the house."

  "No, I'm fine."

  "You hide it well."

  "I won't take the bait."

  Brad grins. "Not yet, but you will. It's killing you to play coy."

  "No, it's..." I stop myself from saying anything else.

  Brad now follows me while I walk along the fence, searching for weak spots. I reach the spot where I lost the lurker from last night. I climb the fence enough to see over the side for anything the target might have dropped when he ran. What I find is a makeshift ritual site with a slaughtered rabbit surrounded by candles.

  I wish I'd taken the shot.

  "Problem?" Brad asks, doing his best to sound uninterested, yet I recognize the fear in his voice.

  "Nothing important. I still want to set up surveillance in this area," I say, jumping down. "This is an area of the property where someone could slip in without anyone noticing from the road. I'll call the office and have them fix this blind spot."

  Brad stares at me, showing me none of the feelings behind his cool blue eyes. "You found something, right?"

  "I'll deal with it."

  "How about we do this? You don't treat me like a child, and I won't treat you like an employee."

  "I'm fine being viewed as an employee."

  A flash of something in Brad's eyes startles me. Before I can speak, a smile spreads across his handsome face.

  "No, you're really not." Brad begins walking again. "My first girlfriend was a redhead," he says after we've walked half of the property. "She ate glue and bit me when she was mad, but I loved her."

  My laughter breaks free before I even register the feeling. I don't know why I find his comment hilarious, but I just do. Only when I gaze at his amused expression do I understand why I laugh. This man crawls under my skin, infecting me. I'm forced to control my every breath to avoid giving away how much power he possesses over me. All that tension builds until I need this release.

  "What was her name?"

  "Melanie. She liked puppies and rainbows."

  "You remember all that?" I ask, walking away as my flushed face cools.

  "Yes. She was my first love. Mom insisted she wouldn't be my last, but I was convinced."

  "How long were you together before she dumped you?"

  Brad scoffs. "For your information, I dumped her. The biting thing was painful, but that's not why I had to say goodbye to my love. See, while I had no interest in kissing her in kindergarten, I knew one day we'd grow up and kiss like adults did. The glue thing was a real deal breaker for me."

  I smile at his happy tone. "It's good to have standards."

  "What about you?" he asks while I study a weak spot on the fence. "Who was your first love?"

  "His name was Vito, and he drove a limo for wealthy foreigners," I lie. "He wanted me to give up my career. I obviously didn't, so he married someone else."

  "Do you miss him?"

  "No."

  "Do you miss anyone?" he asks, startling me.

  I study him, but he refuses to look at all concerned about offending me.

  "Yes."

  "Want to share?"

  "No."

  "By no, do you mean never or not right now."

  "Yes."

  Smiling, Brad follows me as I finish checking the perimeter.

  "Do you eat breakfast?" he asks.

  "Yes."

  "Nell makes pancakes on Tuesdays."

  "Okay."

  "Are you always this chatty?"

  "Yes."

  Grinning wider, Brad sighs dramatically. "You know what I think?" he asks, stepping in front of me before we walk inside. "I think you put on a show for people, but deep inside, you're a teddy bear. In fact, I bet you're really shy and sweet."

  I frown at him, but he only smiles. Even wanting to be annoyed, I finally give in and smile at him.

  "What if you're wrong?"

  "I guess a shallow grave's in my future then."

  "You shouldn't joke."

  "How would you carry my body out to the grave when you're so little?" he teases, following me inside.

  "Easy. I'd take you in chunks."

  Brad laughs loudly behind me, loving the idea of me murdering and dismembering him. The guy is weird, addictively so. I'll be relieved when I get some space from him and regain my common sense.

  7

  ~ Brad ~

  No Second Choices

  The security woman who arrives on the property just after breakfast is what I imagined when I thought of a woman badass. Tall and lean, Minka possesses the dark gaze of someone capable of stabbing me in the face if I wrong her. While she's beautiful, I only have eyes for a tightly wound redhead.

  I follow Saskia as she heads to the door. During breakfast, she became quiet and focused. No more smiles. I know she saw something on the other side of the fence, and a part of me wants to find out what. Saskia chose to hide it from me for a reason, so I don't push the subject. I'm that far gone with my obsession. I don't even care about my safety. I only want to watch Saskia who ignores me. Though she hides behind her professional facade, I feel her thinking about me.

  "When will you be back?" I ask.

  "Minka will be here."

  "For how long?"

  Saskia frowns at me. I frown back at her. She hates when I do that.

  "Minka is trigger happy. You'll be safe."

  "So you're not coming back? That's what I'm getting from your evasive answers."

  "I'll be back later."

  Crossing my arms, I frown darkly down at her. Saskia refuses to back down. She fights me because deep inside she doesn't want to fight. I chase her because deep inside I know she's worth catching. Saskia possesses a million secrets hidden behind her cold eyes.

  "I wasn't hired to coddle you, Brad."

  "Don't be pissy, just because you'll miss me."

  Saskia rolls her eyes and opens the door. "I'll be back."

  "When exactly?"

  Slamming the door behind her, Saskia reveals a rather sexy temper hiding behind her cold exterior.

  I stare at her shadow through the front door's textured glass. She pauses for nearly a minute before opening the door and sticking her head inside.

  "I'll be back at four," she mutters.

  "Thank you."

  Shutting the door, Saskia hurries away while I grin triumphantly. I don't want to chase someone who refuses to be caught. The fiery redhead most definitely wants me to succeed, even if she won't make the task easy for me.

  I walk into the kitchen where Minka and Mom frown at each other.

  "Are you American or is that a fake accent?" Mom asks.

  "If you consider Taxachusetts part of America, then I bleed red, white, and blue."

  Nodding, Ruth grins and glances at me. "I like this one."

  Even sharing her smile, I'm thinking about how much I like the other one.

  "Saskia is a sweetheart," Minka says, taking a chip from the bowl Nell hands her. "You should ask about her knitting."

  Feeling the need to defend Saskia from the teasing, I announce, "She handled the guy last night well."

  "I bet it killed her not to shoot the bastard in the back."

  "I would have taken the shot," Mom says.

  Minka grins. "You could get away with it better than a pro. Hard for us to say our finger slipped."

  "I don't know that I could have said that without laughing."

  Minka snorts. "I can't imagine what you and Saskia are like around the dinner table."

  "She barely speaks."

  "Get her drunk," Minka says, looking at her phone. "I bet she likes vodka. No, wait, that's a Russian thing."

  Mom and Nell whisper to each other, leaving me irritated. Saskia isn't their kind of likeable. I get that, but I'm pissed anyway.

  I walk out through the house and out the back door. The dogs follow, but I'm not interested in playing with them. I feel protective of Saskia, even if she doesn't need protecting. I've always
been different, not like her, but enough to understand how being normal is overrated.

  Minka walks outside and throws a ball to the dogs. "Do you have a thing for redheads or is it tiny chicks?"

  "I have a thing for strong women."

  "You don't seem hot for me, and I'm hella strong," she says, grinning. "Don't worry about hurting my feelings."

  "I wasn't."

  When Minka grins wider, I can imagine this woman killing me without losing a moment's rest.

  "Here's a tip about Saskia. If you think seducing her is a good way for you to protect yourself from your cult stalkers, you need to be thinking long term. After she kills them, she won't like finding out you used her. Her special skills don't involve killing people quickly, Mister Sloane."

  Rather than defend my intentions, I want to know about Saskia. "How long have you known her?"

  "Not long," Minka says, throwing the ball again. "Rafael recruited her. Me too. He's the friendly sort. Of course, I'd heard of Little Maven before taking the job." When I only stare at her, Minka explains, "Little Maven was her nickname. Her mama was Maven. You don't want to know the details."

  "I might."

  "Then ask Saskia. I don't tell a girl's secrets, especially if that girl handles her problems like our redheaded pal does."

  I know Minka is trying to scare me. Mom might have even given her the idea to talk me out of my infatuation. If so, they've underestimated my capacity to latch onto something and refuse to let go.

  8

  ~ Saskia ~

  Ice Queen Needs to Thaw

  Minka dubbed my small apartment "the box." I find comfort in having few belongings. My willingness to walk away from this apartment and everything I own keeps me strong. My mother taught me to require very little to survive. Maven was a feared woman, known for torturing many powerful men until they were no more than children weeping for death.

  Standing in my tiny apartment, I miss the size and warmth of Brad's house. My place smells of clean floors and counters. None of the sweet potpourri scent pumped through the Sloane home. For the first time, I crave more than the bare basics.

  I considered adopting a cat when I first moved to Houston. After deciding I have no idea how to name a cat, I ditched the idea. What do cats even eat? The entire idea felt like too much work, but now I feel a hint of regret.

  I blame Brad for my sudden unhappiness. He's infected me with his life. I see him everywhere in my dull apartment. He's at the small window, staring out at the gray next-door building. I imagine him looming large in the small kitchen, cooking alongside his mother and Nell. This fantasy seems all wrong in the place I call home.

  My mail is mostly junk. I pay my bills automatically online. I have no friends to mail me anything. The only things worthwhile are my catalogues. If I were ever to indulge, I might need a bedroom-sized closet to fit all my clothes.

  I shove a few new catalogues into my bag and leave the unwelcoming apartment. Returning to the Sloane house isn't an option, if I want to keep my self-respect. Besides, I have genuine safety concerns to discuss with Rafael.

  Learning he's working from his apartment today, I assume this is code for spending quality time inside his new bride. Calling ahead to ensure I don't interrupt their newlywed bliss, Rafael assures me that his dick needs a break anyway.

  His wife Harlow answers the door of their swanky apartment. Once again, I think the blonde looks too young and soft for a powerhouse like Rafael. If I knew more about romance, their chemistry might make sense to me. I only know how to pretend to be interested in a target long enough to complete my mission.

  "Can I get you anything?" Harlow asks.

  "No, thank you."

  A brief staring contest ensues, and I suspect she normally wins. When I refuse to look away, her ensuing expression is rather amusing.

  "Ladies, let's keep this civil," a smiling Rafael says, entering the room. "Why not save our death stares for the enemy?"

  Relenting, Harlow leaves Rafael and me to talk.

  "How's Sloane?"

  "Fine except the target got away," I say, sitting on a stool at the kitchen island. "I had a shot too."

  "Unfortunately, the law says we can't shoot people in the back when they're running away."

  I roll my eyes. "I miss the old days."

  "Life was definitely easier when we made the rules."

  As we wistfully recall our lives as assassins, I again imagine the target running away. This time, I dream of pulling the trigger and sending his fleeing body sprawling.

  "I would have slept through the entire thing, if you hadn't called. Thanks for monitoring the motion sensor cameras."

  "It's my job," he says, frowning. "So this guy left behind a sacrifice? Not much time passed between when I spotted movement and you got out to him. Did the rabbit come pre-gutted? "

  "I don't know. I only saw the remains hours later. The target was alone, so it wasn't much of a cult get-together."

  "I still don't like when a threat gets that close to our client. What do you want to do?"

  "I want to set traps around the edge of the property especially in the back where anyone can access without line of sight from the road. Those two adjoining ranches are uninhabited, making them perfect for the targets to use to reach the Sloane place."

  "What kind of traps?"

  "What kinds are legal?"

  "I'm not sure any are."

  "Not even for animals?"

  "I'll check, but probably not. Despite the distance from Houston, the ranch is still considered suburbia. They frown on leaving traps out where innocent people can lose a limb."

  "Innocent people aren't my target."

  Rafael gives me a sly grin. "The law is a bitch, ain't it?"

  "What if we shoot them in the back and dispose of the bodies?"

  "Might work."

  We share a slight smile and fall into silence. I look around his swanky apartment and wish I bought a place with such space. The view is nice too especially at night. For too long, I've followed my mother's "less equals more" philosophy.

  "Do you find me cold?"

  "Yes," he says casually. "I don't think you've ever had a reason to be hot."

  Nodding, I think of Minka's temper. Reacting rashly makes no sense to me. I might be cold, but my lack of emotion has kept me alive. Plus my bare minimum needs led to a large sum of money stashed away. Also unlike my mother, I haven't killed anyone innocent.

  "Do you think I'm capable of being hot?"

  "I think you're capable of being anything you want, Saskia. You're a tiny woman feared by scary men all over the world. I once scared off a fucker by saying Little Maven was coming for him. He wasn't afraid of me, but you scared the shit out of him. Yeah, I think you can run as hot as you want."

  I smile obligingly at his compliment. "What if running hot puts our client in danger?"

  "It won't. You've been professional for too long to forget so quickly."

  "You hope."

  "If you feel like you're losing your perspective, tell me and I'll adjust the security schedule."

  "I feel ridiculous to even discuss this with you."

  "Brad Sloane is a pretty man. I'm not surprised you noticed."

  "Pretty," I mutter.

  "Everyone likes pretty things, Saskia," Rafael says, winking at me. "No shame in being human."

  I ignore his teasing. "Did you feel weak when you fell for Harlow?"

  "No, I felt invigorated. Might be a size thing though."

  Sliding off the stool, I flip my hair dismissively while he laughs at me.

  "You're not helpful."

  "You should ask for dating advice from Harlow or Minka. If you want to know about killing, come to me."

  "If you want to be useful then figure out how we can legally hobble anyone prowling around the property," I say, leaving the kitchen. "Or give me the go ahead to kill the targets and dispose of their bodies."

  Rafael follows me to the door. "Be careful out there. I know these
cult freaks are amateurs compared to what we're used to, but fanatics should never be underestimated."

  "I underestimate no one. This is why I prefer to shoot first."

  "Good enough. Be careful anyway and don't be afraid to call for help."

  Nodding, I leave him to his day at home with Harlow. I don't know what to do with myself afterwards. Only a few hours have passed, and returning too soon might make me seem desperate.

  I sit in my car and struggle for something to do rather than return to the Sloane house. Soon I drive, hoping to find a distraction before I reach the estate's front gate. I find none and arrive at the house only two hours after leaving.

  When Minka meets me outside the house, I assume the worst.

  "What's wrong?"

  "The dogs love me. I heard they hate you. Wonder why?"

  Glaring at her smiling face, I ask, "Did you throw yourself at our client?"

  "Yes. We humped the entire time you were gone. Wait, do you not like sharing?"

  "I don't find you funny."

  "How come you and I never bonded?" Minka asks, bumping me playfully. "With our history of cold mothers and blood money, we're like twins. I'm Arnold and you're Danny, of course."

  I stare at her until she sighs. "You need to get yourself a Netflix subscription and catch up with the millions of movies you've missed."

  "I don't enjoy movies."

  "Brad does," Minka says, following me to the front door. When I pause on the porch, she presses against my back. "He has an extensive collection of spooky movies. You should ask him about it."

  "Leave me alone."

  "Why?"

  Frowning, I shrug. "I'm not sure really. I chose to dislike you at some point, and I've seen no reason to alter my decision."

  "I'm a great friend. We can gossip on the phone about boys."

  "Did you happen to keep an eye on the perimeter in between talking about movies with Brad?"

  Minka wraps an arm around me before I can walk inside. "He likes you," she whispers before letting me go.

  I don't know what to do with this information. Minka walks past me into the house where the dogs greet her with hand licks. I'm glad they ignore me, but maybe I shouldn't be. My mother's words echo in my head, just as they have all my life. Her instruction made me a successful killer. I exist only to destroy life rather than enjoy it.