by Cassia Leo
“You,” I say, jabbing the tip of my index finger against her chest, “are not allowed to choose who comes in this room.” I stand up straight, holding my head high as I slowly circle around until I’m standing behind her. “The man standing before you, the one who makes you tremble with fear… He saved me from you. So look at him and let that sink in.”
“Hello, Lisa. I see you haven’t forgotten me, even with this new disguise. Do you know what that tells me?”
I reach forward and she flinches as I untie the gag around her mouth. “I’m going to remove this,” I say, maintaining a tight grip on both ends of the gag. “But I’m only going to warn you once: If you try to scream or fight, your fate will change. The same way it will change if you ever utter a word about Daimon or me or anything that has happened in the past six months to anyone.” I lean down and whisper in her ear. “If you do any of those things, I will frame you for my father’s murder, and you will spend the rest of your life in a prison much worse than the prison you kept me in for eighteen years. Are we clear?” She’s still for a moment before she nods. “Good.”
I remove the gag from her mouth and toss it to Daimon.
She slumps forward as she breathes a sigh of relief. “How dare you treat me like this,” she hisses. “After everything I did for you. Nobody wanted you. Nobody!”
I slap her in the face and she screams. “I told you to keep your voice down.”
“You’re a monster! I should have left you in the dumpster!”
I nod at Daimon and he ties the gag over her mouth again. She squirms as she tries to fight him, her fiery red hair flying in all directions and making her look like a true demon from hell. Finally, he secures the gag and I step back so she can see me better.
“I gave you a chance, Lisa,” I say, surprised at how good it feels to not have to refer to her as Mother anymore. “I was going to offer you a chance to go back to your mundane existence, but now I’m going to send you away.”
Her icy blue eyes narrow, but her protests are muffled by the gag.
“But I really think it’s better this way. I don’t think you would have been nearly as happy without me or my father around to torture at your leisure. Trust me. It’s for the best. You’ll enjoy the peace and quiet of the Siberian plateau.”
She shakes her head wildly as she attempts to stomp her feet on the carpet, but she can’t get much leverage with her ankles tied. Something inside me snaps and I feel almost ashamed for taking pleasure in her suffering. No matter how difficult she made my life, I can’t allow her to turn me into the monster she tried to convince me I was.
When she tires of the struggling, I approach her and finally see a bit of fear in her eyes. She finally understands I’m not the broken little girl who was so easy to control. I’m free. There’s nothing more dangerous to a sadistic warden than a freed prisoner with nothing to lose. And that fear in her eyes is enough punishment to satisfy my thirst for vengeance. That fear tells me I’ve won.
I step back and smile as I look her in the eye. “Someone will deliver you to the airport with a suitcase and a new identity. Do yourself a favor and get on that flight.” Daimon opens the door and I nod at him. “And forget I ever existed. Of course, that shouldn’t be too difficult for you, but try not to get too comfortable in your new life. Remember: The monsters we can’t see are the scariest ones of all.”
When executed correctly, vengeance can be freeing. But when the path of revenge leads you astray, it’s important to get back on track and make amends with those who were hurt along the way.
As Daimon and I drive down Hope Street, the place where it all began, I can’t help but feel nervous about this next stop. There are some wrongs that can never be made right. I hope it’s not too late to instill a bit of hope on Hope Street.
The car pulls into the gas station and Daimon squeezes my hand. I sigh as I let go and exit the car. When I enter the snack shack, there’s a customer at the counter. I watch as Aasif runs his card. The familiar sound of the credit card machine spitting out a receipt makes my stomach tangle with a strange longing I didn’t expect to feel.
The customer leaves, but Aasif is still operating on autopilot when I step up to the counter. “May I help you?”
“Aasif, it’s me.” He squints at me, then he opens his mouth to speak, but I hold up my hand to stop him. “Don’t say it. No one can know I’m here.”
He glances into the parking lot at the black Mercedes idling outside. “What happened to you?” he whispers, taking in my black hair. “Are you on the run?”
“No, I’m not on the run. I’m… I’m just not supposed to be here. But I—”
A customer enters and I pretend to be engrossed in the selection of chewing gum. The man grabs a bottle of water and an energy drink. I quickly move out of his way and motion for him to go ahead of me.
His eyes linger on my chest for a moment. “Thanks.” He glances in my direction a couple of times as he pays for his beverages, then he leaves and I sigh with relief.
“I’m here because I feel bad about the way I left without any notice. I just wanted to stop by and give you my official letter of resignation.”
I reach into my purse and pull out a plain, crisp envelope. Placing the envelope on the counter, I smile at the look of utter confusion on his face as I exit the snack shack; the place where I got my first taste of freedom. I slide into the backseat of the Mercedes and Daimon smiles when he sees the huge grin on my face. I sit back and I imagine Aasif opening the envelope.
Daimon wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me close so he can kiss my forehead. “Mission accomplished?”
Leaning my head on his shoulder, I think of the anonymous donations we made to various charities supporting abused and neglected children. After Julien and his men took their cut of the fifty million, and we made the donations to Aasif and the charities, Daimon and I kept two million dollars for ourselves. I think two million is sufficient funds for us to get our new business up and running and settle into our new life together.
I turn my face into his neck and inhale the intoxicating woodsy scent of his skin. “Mission accomplished.”
I kiss his neck and he lets out a low, primal growl.
“Good,” he murmurs. “Now I can have you all to myself for at least one week before we start working on the next one.”
I pull back in surprise as his hand slides under the skirt of my dress. “The next one? Already?”
“The assassination business is booming, chérie,” he replies, his mouth landing on my neck. “And after Monte Carlo, we are in very high demand.”
I smile as his hand slides under my panties. “Well, then, I guess we’d better enjoy our time off.”
His mouth lands on mine, stealing the breath right out of my lungs. Once he’s satisfied he’s made me come, he slides his hand out from between my legs and looks me in the eye.
“I plan to enjoy you every day for the rest of our lives.”
“Lesson number one?” I ask playfully.
He plants a soft kiss on my forehead then smiles down at me. “Lesson number two: Tell her you love her. Every day.”
Epilogue - 4 years later
Daimon
The modern cabin in Laguna Madre, Mexico is far too warm for my taste, but it’s the perfect temperature for Alex to do hot yoga, which I love to watch. I place my rifle case on the steel kitchen island and watch as she stretches out facedown on top of a mat on the living room floor. She places her hands flat on the mat on either side of her chest, then she pushes up slightly into a cobra pose. Her eyes are closed, so I allow my gaze to travel down the slope of her back and to her perfect ass.
“Are you looking at my butt?” she says. Her eyes are still closed, but she’s smiling.
“What else would I be doing?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe getting the weapons ready or taking a shower. Yes, you should take a shower. That was a long run you took this morning.”
I take the Sako TRG-
42 out of the case and begin cleaning and checking each piece and accessory in preparation of tonight’s mission. We were contacted thirteen months ago by an official from the Mexican government. He claimed to have intelligence of a possible assassination attempt on the governor of Tamaulipas, a state in Mexico. The governor’s refusal to cooperate with the drug cartels had made him a target. Our job was to take out the head of the Cártel de Golfo—the Gulf Cartel—before they take out the governor.
The Gulf Cartel is one of the oldest crime syndicates in Mexico. This has been our most difficult and dangerous mission to date, which is why it’s taken us thirteen months to get to payday. But it’s finally here and I have the perfect location to take out the mark. This will be our most satisfying kill to date considering that, over the past seven years, Rudolfo Cardenas and the Gulf Cartel are responsible for an estimated 472 deaths in this region.
I tuck the rifle back into the case and, as usual, I see the image of the little boy I killed seven years ago in that flat in London. His name was Gabriel, like his father. I close my eyes for a moment and send out a prayer that I will one day be forgiven or, if it is God’s will, punished for Gabriel’s death.
I open my eyes and take a deep breath as I think of the gift I got for Alex while I went for a run this morning. I stopped at a little tourist shop near the beach and found a fluffy white feather on the floor of the shop. It had come off a hat on the display. I picked it up and gave it to the woman behind the sales counter, but she just shook her head and began reaching for the waste bin to throw it away. I stopped her and asked if I could keep it and she gave it to me gladly, though I could see she was a bit curious as to why I would want the feather.
Closing the latches on the gun case, I head for the bedroom. I take a quick shower, and when I come out, I can’t find my handgun. It’s supposed to be on top of the dresser, where I left it last night.
I come out of the bedroom wearing a towel around my waist and find Alex bending over with her ass in the air in a downward dog position. I smile as I come behind her and grab her hips.
“Excuse me, chérie, but have you seen my M9? It was on the dresser.”
She laughs as I pull her hips back so her ass is pressed against me. “It’s in the den. I was cleaning it while you went for a run.”
“What did I tell you about moving my gun?” I say, reaching forward until my hand is cupped over her pussy.
“Always put it back where I found it.”
“Right. Otherwise, I might think it was stolen.” I stroke her pussy through the thin fabric of her yoga pants and she lets out a soft whimper. “But if I keep finding it was you who took my gun, I’ll grow accustomed to thinking there’s nothing wrong whenever my gun is misplaced. Then, if someone does steal my gun, I won’t be prepared.”
“I won’t do it again,” she murmurs.
“You promise?” I slide my hand up and then under the waistband of her pants.
“I promise,” she moans as my finger glides into her wet pussy. “I promise I’ll never do it again.”
I drag her moisture forward and use it to softly caress her clit. “Your pussy is so wet. Were you fantasizing about me again while you were stretching?”
“Yes.”
“What were you fantasizing about? This?” I let my towel drop and my erection prods the crease of her ass.
“Oh, yes.”
“You were thinking about my cock.”
I slide my hand out from inside her pants, then I slowly push her pants down until they’re around her ankles. I kneel down and kiss her bare pussy as I peel the pants off and toss them aside. She still has her ass in the air as I spread her lips and suck gently on her clit.
I pull my head back and look at her momentarily. “Was my cock inside you in this fantasy?”
“Yes.”
I stand up and rub the tip of my cock against her swollen clit. “In your pussy or your ass?”
She whimpers and I can see her knees and elbows shaking as she tries to maintain this pose. “Neither… It was in my mouth.”
I slide the tip of my erection inside her pussy and she groans with pleasure. “Your mouth is my cock’s favorite place to be. But right now, it wants to be inside your tight little pussy.”
I move in just an inch more, then I slide out again. I massage her clit with the head of my cock and, as torturous as it is for me, I know it’s even worse for her in this position. Unable to hold me or kiss me or touch me. But her frustration will only cause her pleasure to build even higher, resulting in a more intense orgasm. Did I mention I love when she does hot yoga?
Sliding my cock upward, I hold it right at her entrance. “Do you want more?”
“Yes, please.”
“You promise never to move my gun again?”
“Yes, yes, I promise.”
I grab her hips then pull her backward until my cock hits her cervix. “Oh, fuck.”
I roll my hips as I move inside her. She moans, grinding her ass into me to coax me deeper. She loves the brief shock of pain that comes every time I hit that wall deep inside her. She can only handle deep penetration for a few minutes, but she’s told me before that she doesn’t feel completely satisfied unless I hit that spot. It’s like an itch that needs to be scratched. And I’m more than happy to oblige.
There’s nothing wrong with getting into a rhythm with your partner. In the bedroom, just like anywhere else, practice makes perfect. And getting fucked while I’m in downward facing dog is one of our favorite poses. I’ve been doing yoga for years, and we’ve tried having sex in many different positions, but I like the helplessness that comes with this one.
Every time his cock hits my cervix, I cry out in pain. Sweet, delicious pain. But, as soon as it gets to be too much, he begins to ease off. It’s instinctive. That kind of trust and instinct only comes when two people truly know each other. And there’s nothing Daimon and I don’t know about each other after four years of living together as partners in crime and love.
I move into a forward fold pose so my legs are straight and my body is completely folded over until my nose is between my knees. This changes the position of his cock, providing a bit more friction that sends him clear over the edge. But instead of seizing the opportunity to finish, he pulls out of me and walks around me.
I rise slowly and smile when I find his erection right in front of my face. I’m about to drop to my knees to act out the fantasy I was having just a few moments ago, but he grabs my shoulders to pull me into a standing position. His expression is very serious as we face each other, and I can’t tell where this is going.
He reaches forward and slowly pulls my tank top over my head, then he tosses it aside. Now we’re both completely naked. He steps forward, closing the gap between us. I gasp when his hard cock rubs against my clit, but he doesn’t try to raise my leg so he can enter me in this position. He just takes my face in his hands and kisses me. A slow, erotic kiss that puts me in a trance. I wrap my arms around his waist to steady myself and he continues to kiss me for so long I begin to lose track of time.
I slide my hand between us to reach for his erection, but he grabs my wrist to stop me. “What are you doing? We don’t have time for a slow fuck. You have to get ready to go.”
His blue eyes gaze into mine and something has changed since he walked in here a few minutes ago reprimanding me for moving his gun. “I want to lay you down and make love to you in the bed.”
I let out a soft chuckle. “Okay, if you feel like missionary today, we can do that.”
“No, you don’t understand what I’m saying.”
“What do you mean?”
His gaze wanders over my face as he brushes my chestnut brown hair out of my eyes. “I think I’m ready to visit Ana and Laurent.”
My stomach flips at the mention of these words. I’ve known since the moment Daimon and I decided to work together that it was only temporary. You can’t live this life for too long or it will literally kill you. But I must admit I’ve bee
n dreading this day.
I know I can’t do this job without Daimon. He’s the brains and brawn of this operation. I’m more of a silent partner. A phantom. The one who can get in just about anywhere undetected. I gather the intelligence, then we both sift through the data and develop a plan of attack. Then he executes the mission.
Today’s mission has been meticulously planned for thirteen months. Other than the Monte Carlo mission, it’s our biggest payday to date: $18,000,000 for one head. But it’s not just the money that’s been driving Daimon to complete this job. When children are caught in the crossfire, as they have been in the midst of the drug violence in Mexico, Daimon can’t help but let his sense of justice and his emotions get the best of him. He’s been dying to deliver his brand of justice to the cartel leader. For him to quit in the middle of such an important job tells me he’s deadly serious.
“Are you sure that’s what you want?”
He takes my face in his hands again and looks me in the eye so there’s no confusion. “Even with all the preparation in the world, I can be killed. You know that.”
His words take the breath out of me. We never discuss the possibility of dying. We always discuss what can go wrong, but we never discuss the possibility of him never coming back. It’s difficult not to hold onto superstition in matters of life and death.
“Please don’t say that.”
“It’s the truth. But, just like you, I don’t want it to be true.” He tightens his hold on my face and forces me to look him in the eye. “I want to go through that front door knowing I’ll be walking through it again in a few hours. But I can’t know that. Not in this line of work.” He kisses the tip of my nose and the corners of his lips turn up in the faintest of smiles. “I know I’m not guaranteed another second with you. A plane can fall out of the sky and strike us down right now, but I know I can’t keep putting justice before family. I think it’s time.”
Daimon and I frequently engage in long conversations, taking stock of our relationship. It’s important to make sure we both understand where we each stand on the issues. In our first few months together, I often refused to talk about what was bothering me. I had gotten used to using silence as a coping mechanism, but now I know there is nothing more detrimental to a healthy relationship than silence.