by Sam Crescent
“Huh, the incinerator seems to think there was.”
Ben didn’t speak. “Is there another reason for your call?”
“I have another job for you.”
“Not interested.”
“You don’t even want to hear what for.”
“Mr. Kane, I’ve just finished a job. I don’t do anything straight afterward. Find someone else.” Mr. Kane worked for Debusa, who had given him the job. He hung up the cell phone and tapped on the kitchen counter as he overlooked the decking area. This was his one prize in the whole world, where he got away from being everything. No one called him while he was home. In fact, he rarely dealt with phone calls as a way to deal his business. He usually handled emails, or other special notices. He didn’t like that Mr. Kane had gone out of his way to find him, and he certainly didn’t like the way the incinerator had talked about him as if this was some kind of high school drama.
Checking the time, he set about making up some fajitas. He happened to enjoy cooking. It was one of the few simple pleasures that he got out of life.
Every now and then, he’d pause to see if Joy was on her way down toward him. She hadn’t freaked out since he caught her in the shower. She looked more like her old self since she had woken up that morning. Okay, so she had tried to run, but he rather liked the opportunity to catch her. Ben enjoyed feeling her soft curves, and he also liked fucking her. Her pussy had been so damn tight, and he’d wanted her. Fuck, he’d wanted her so badly. There was so much pleasure to be had, and he’d only gotten a taste of her pussy, and not even a good taste. He wanted to spread her out and ravish her cunt, drinking her cum before sliding his cock inside her. Her ass as well, he’d own her tight little butthole. By the time he was finished, he was going to own every single part of her, and love it as he did.
Ben heard soft footsteps, and he waited for her to come into the kitchen, pausing as he did so.
Her hair was damp as it fell around her body. Her hair was particularly long. There were nights where she’d sit cross-legged on the sofa, brushing the length, and he’d be mesmerized with how sleek and glossy it appeared.
“Hey,” she said.
Joy wore a white summer dress. He’d made sure the dresses were the size that would fit her, and also give him the perfect view of her body. She was a beautiful, curvy woman, and he wanted the chance to see that. The way he figured it, she should show her body off more often. If he was going to have her with him during his off time, then he was going to make sure he enjoyed it.
“I’m cooking fajitas.”
“You cook.”
“It’s among my many talents.”
The slight smile on her lips disappeared as she padded into the kitchen. He watched as she took a seat at the counter, tucking some hair behind her eat as she did. “Many talents?”
“I happen to enjoy cooking. I’m a fucking god in the bedroom—”
“And you kill people.” She folded her arms beneath her breasts.
“Some people play golf, or write dirty shit on their computer.”
“That doesn’t kill people.”
“Whatever makes you sleep at night,” he said, chopping up the peppers.
“What do you mean by that?”
Pausing in his chopping, he stared at her. She really was a beautiful woman, and she didn’t even need to try.
“We all do shit in our lives to calm us—”
“You’re saying killing people calms you?”
“It pays the bills.”
She looked around his room, and shook her head. “This more than pays the bills. No normal person has an island to themselves.”
“You’re saying billionaires aren’t normal?”
“No—”
“Then what is it that you’re saying?”
“I don’t know. This is far from paying the bills, and you kill people for fun.”
“Would it make you feel better if I said some of the people I have killed have been rapists, murderers, child molesters?” he asked. He wasn’t about to tell her that some of those people were killed because they were going to snitch on their bosses.
Ben didn’t care where the money came from, so long as he got paid.
“You just don’t get it. This world, it’s built on blood.”
He shrugged. “I’m alive, and I can say I’ve gotten rid of a few shitheads. Sure, I’ve killed people who haven’t necessarily done anything wrong.”
“Like Joanne.”
Ben smirked. “You really think you know Joanne? How about I tell you that when she was high on drugs, she would push kids into working for her?”
“What?”
“To get her next fix, she’d take girls, and sell them to guys who’d fuck ‘em, and take the money. Joanne may have been your friend, and she may have gotten her life on track, but she wasn’t innocent, far from it.”
He started chopping again, angry that he revealed a lot more about Joanne than he intended.
“You really spoke the truth there, didn’t you?”
“I’ve got no reason to lie to you. Never have.”
“You’ve lied to me.”
“No, I haven’t actually.” He stared up into her brown eyes. “I’ve never once lied to you.”
“You’re saying your real name is Ben—”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. I answered every single question honestly with you. You’re the first person I ever have.”
“You didn’t lie.”
“During the last few months together, nothing I’ve said has been a lie. I’ve told you the absolute truth. The only thing I didn’t admit to was the fact I’m a contract killer. I’m a bounty hunter, but the kind they don’t make shows about.” He’d never seen a show, and didn’t plan to.
He went back to preparing the vegetables, all the while aware of Joy’s eyes on him. Ben liked it. He liked to be watched by her.
“I can’t cook,” she said.
Glancing up, he saw she was wiping away some tears. “I know.”
“I can’t believe that you can, and you never offered to cook.”
He put the stir fry pan on and waited for it to heat up. Once everything was ready, he started frying, throwing in the minced garlic and ginger, followed by the vegetables. He’d already marinated the meat, and would do that after most of the vegetables were softened.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Joy. She tucked hair behind her ear, and the action made him want to reach out and touch her.
He refrained from doing it. At this moment, he doubted she wanted his touch.
Focusing on the food in the pan, he finished up the cooking, and within twenty minutes they were outside on the deck near the pool. They were sitting at a table with a canopy over them, protecting them from the sun.
Joy took a bite and moaned as she did. “These are so good.”
“Your diaries. Did anything come true?” he asked, cutting to the chase.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yeah, you do.”
“You read everything?”
“I had to. I was at home all day, bored out of my mind.”
“So you read my personal diaries.”
“You need to get a better password on your computer.”
Joy sighed. “They’re private. I’m not discussing it with you.”
“My dick was inside you a couple of hours ago.”
“Are you trying to make this hard?” she asked.
“No. I’m just stating a fact that you seem to spend more time running away than staying to face the problem.”
“Running away? You wouldn’t let me run. I can’t go anywhere. I’m trapped on this stupid island with a killer.”
“Then make the most of it. Use me.”
“What?” She frowned.
“We’re both trapped on this island. Why don’t you put it to good use?”
“I’m not going to sleep with you.”
“We’re going to be sleeping together, but I’m not
just thinking that. Use me, fuck me, Joy. We’ve got nothing to lose.”
Chapter Five
Dear …
This has got to be the weirdest time of my life. I’m in a mansion, on an abandoned island, owned by a man I witnessed kill my friend. Yeah, you with me so far. Now, he tells me my friend was an abuser and set out to abuse kids to get her next fix. How can I not hate her in that moment? Kids are precious, and she forced them to serve her own needs. I just can’t think about it. I sat with her, ate food with her, and all the time, she had a past that was so dark, it made her death seem so easy. She should have been in prison, and yet, she wasn’t.
Ben, he killed her, and for the first time since it all happened, I’m a little happy about that. Does that make me a freak? One moment I hate him, and the next, I think he’s done something really good. It makes absolutely no sense to me.
Not only that, he wants me to use him for sex. How can I use anyone for sex? I don’t do that. Ugh, I hate my life. No, I don’t hate my life. If I did that I could just walk out into shark infested waters, and bye-bye life.
Sorry, this is sounding all a little sarcastic even to me. What do I do?
Is there attraction between Ben and Me? Yes.
Do I want to be with him? Yes.
Do I hate myself for that? Yes.
He’s a KILLER.
“You coming in the pool?” Ben asked.
Joy frowned, looking up from her book to see him standing beside her lounge chair.
“The pool?”
“Yeah, are you coming in for a swim?”
She looked at the pool, and then at him in his swimming trunks. Biting her lip, she shook her head. “No. I’m okay.”
“Why not? You love to swim.”
Staring up at Ben, she frowned. When he was behaving like the guy she shared a house with, it was hard to see him as the killer. She didn’t actually see him kill Joanne, but he’d been standing over her body. “How can you be like this? How can you behave like nothing happened?”
Ben stepped up close, grabbed her book, and slammed it down on the table beside her. Joy jumped, and then screamed as he picked her entire body up. One arm slid beneath her ass, and the other cupped her back. He walked several steps, and then threw her in the pool.
Her screaming died, and Joy closed her eyes, breaking the surface and gasping for breath.
He followed her in, and she swam toward him.
“You asshole. I didn’t want to swim.”
“Tough. I don’t want to have to listen to how you can’t understand how I live my life.”
“You’re a killer. I’m not. I don’t know how you can be … be…”
“Be what?”
“Normal! You took a life.”
“So, and Lindsay—sorry, Joanne—fucked with plenty of other girls’ heads. You think they’re not suffering right now?”
“Is that what you do to justify what you do?”
“I don’t go justifying what I do. Look, I kill people, and I get paid a shitload of money. Do you want me to kill you, is that it?”
“Why didn’t you? Why create this elaborate scheme to keep me alive?”
“I broke all the rules with you.”
“Rules? What rules?”
“I made my business personal. I never take the time to get to know the people around my target. You caught my fucking attention, and instead of staying away, I didn’t. I made sure I was known, became fucking friends. I told you why I can’t kill you. Besides the obvious, if I kill you, they’ll come looking for me.”
“What’s not obvious?” she asked.
“I happen to fucking like you. Yeah, soak that shit up.”
He moved around her, and Joy followed his movements. “You like me.”
“Yeah, I do.”
Pushing some hair out of her face, she forced herself to look at him. Ben paused in the water. “You’re not killing me because you like me.”
“Yeah. I also don’t want to get caught.”
“I don’t know if I can handle this right now.”
She started moving toward the edge of the pool.
“Joanne deserved what happened to her.”
“What about everyone else you’ve killed?” she asked, turning around to look at him.
“I’m not going to tell you about anyone else. Why don’t you just try to enjoy this time on the island, and to forget about what you saw?”
“How many other women have you brought here?”
“None. This is my island. No one comes here. This is my one slice of heaven.”
She couldn’t look him in the eye for much longer, so she averted her gaze. It would be so easy to forget what he did. Joy didn’t want to remember.
“Were you always a killer?” she asked.
“No. I was just an ordinary kid with a talent for finding trouble.”
The temptation to just leave was so strong, but she wanted to know more. This man, he made her want to run away and also to stay. Her emotions were all over the place. What sane woman stayed with a killer?
“What is the truth about you?” she asked.
“The truth about me is simple. I was in a happy family ‘til about five, when the house that I lived in with my parents burned down to the ground. I was bounced from foster families until at twelve I was adopted by a church loving couple, who thought it was good to take out all of their frustrations on me.”
She covered her mouth. “They abused you?”
“In every single way they could get away with. After a time, I started getting into trouble so I could spend as much time as I could away from them. I did a stint in prison where I met a man who saw my talent. I was trained, put to work, and the rest is history.”
“Put to work?”
“I became a contracted killer. I surpassed all training.”
“What was your first job?”
“What do you think?” he asked.
Joy already had a clue. “Your foster parents?”
“When I say they abused me, I meant in all ways. They beat me, raped me, and treated me like fucking dirt, Joy.”
Tears filled her eyes, and she imagined what a young Ben could look like.
“I was a small kid. I developed a little later in life, but put it this way, I make sure no one fucks with me. I also make sure no one else fucks with young kids.”
“I’m so sorry.”
He stepped up close to her so that she had no choice but to look up at him. “I don’t want, and I don’t need, your pity.”
Ben cupped her cheek, sinking his fingers into her hair, and making her gasp, and he caught her tight toward him. His other hand snaked around his waist.
“I’m not offering you pity.”
“We’re all different. My life, it started out good, turned to shit, but I survived, and that is not going to change. I do what I do best.”
At that moment, Joy didn’t know what to make of it.
“I’m tired,” she said.
He let her go, and she took a step back. “I’m not going to stop you from leaving.”
Turning around, she jumped out of the pool, and got to her feet, aware the dress she was wearing was probably see-through.
“Think about what I said tonight.”
She turned back to find Ben staring at her. “What do you mean?”
“I’m not the killer here. Try to remember that and forget what you saw.”
Joy didn’t say anything as she made her way back into the main house, and then upstairs to her bedroom. Moving toward the large doors that opened up onto the balcony, she still saw the pool. Ben was swimming laps, and she watched him. Ben was a sexy man. Take out the whole killer, jackass, asshole, jerk element, and she couldn’t help but like him. He was tall, over six feet with thick, hard muscles, and intense blue eyes that made her want to melt. He was the kind of guy all girls wanted.
This was every woman’s dream. Not being stranded with a killer, but the island, the house, all of it. It was a straight up d
ream.
Moving away from the doors, she took a seat on the bed, and stared at the mirror opposite her. Her hair was sodden and pressed against her face. The dress was also clear, and as it was wet, it seemed to mold to every single curve and flap of skin.
She didn’t know what she was going to do.
It was easier to hate a monster, but Ben wasn’t just a monster. He was the man she had lived with. Being around Ben, hearing him, it was harder than anything she could have imagined.
****
Ben gave her a couple of days of simply being by herself. He made breakfast, and they lived in silence. Joy wrote in her book, and he left her to it, never saying a word as he basked in the peace and quiet. She did keep looking at him though, which he liked. He liked the thought of getting under her skin, and he did it often.
Whistling to himself one Monday morning, he walked into the kitchen to find Joy already sitting at the kitchen counter, waiting for him to cook breakfast. She took her time enjoying the island, exploring the surrounding forest. Ben made sure to follow her, and to keep a careful distance at all times. There was no way he was going to let her get hurt. He was a bastard, but not that much of one.
What was it about her?
Yes, his life would be much easier if he just killed her, but he couldn’t do it. The good within Joy was not something he wanted to take away. He wanted to bask in it, to be surrounded by that ray of sunshine, and never let it disappear. Was he a bastard for keeping her to himself? Yes. He had many reasons, and one of those reasons was the fact he didn’t want to go back to prison.
He had fucked up, and leaving her alone was out of the question.
Keeping silent, he walked to the fridge. Ben was giving her the chance to talk first. He’d wait for her. Last night he’d put some ground beef in the fridge, and he pulled it out, happy that it had defrosted. He’d already put in an order to have some more food flown out to him. The good thing about having lots of money was people were willing to give him what he wanted most. If he wished it, women would be flocking to the island to suck his cock for a price.
There wasn’t any other woman he wanted.
The woman who was once again wearing a pink summer dress was driving him crazy. When they’d lived at her house she was always in jeans, or think jumpers. None of the clothes had been revealing, yet the wardrobe he’d provided for her made up for it. Her tits were large, her hips rounded, as was her stomach.