by Sam Crescent
“I know you’re down here, sweetheart. I’m really not in the mood, so make it easier for yourself and stop playing games.”
No response.
“If I have to climb these stairs without you, I’ll lock the fucking door and let you starve to death. It won’t be fast, and it won’t be pleasant. Is that what you want?”
The sound of an empty Mason jar tipping over caught his attention. She was behind the furnace. Bain cracked his knuckles as he stalked closer. When he neared, she darted out the other side and ran for the stairs. As she tried to crawl up on her hands and knees, he caught her around the waist, tugging her back down and trapping her against the wall with his body. Bain held both her wrists down at her sides.
“Let me go!” she screamed. He gave her credit for struggling like a wild woman. It took a bit of effort to secure her thrashing body.
“Maybe if you hadn’t worn a skirt you would have made it up the stairs, but that’s as far as you would have gotten.”
“Get off me!”
“Settle down,” he said. “If you don’t stop I’ll tie you back to the chair and leave you here.” His head was fucking pounding. He released her wrist to rub the back of his neck, and she used the opportunity to pound her little fist against his bare chest.
“That all you got?”
They began to struggle again, and she managed to get up the stairs this time. Why was he even humoring her? He stopped to pick up one of his Glocks from the kitchen, and then caught her in the hallway, grabbing one arm in a firm hold.
“Hit me! I don’t care,” she shouted, her eyes filled with tears.
“How about I put a bullet in your head instead, like I should have when I found you?”
Her struggle suddenly ceased when he aimed the gun at her temple, the power in her arms going limp as if her fire had been doused. “Do it,” she whispered. “Maybe you’ll be doing me a favor.”
Her green eyes were so big and child-like even though she was very much a woman. She intrigued him. It was the way she’d said her last words. Her tone had changed, as if she’d lost her very soul. “You want to die now?”
“I’ve been to hell and back already. I’m well aware there are things worse than death.”
He released his breath. She had secrets of her own, but he’d let her keep them for now. When he didn’t feel like shit, he’d get her to confess it all.
“Well, it’s your lucky day because I can’t kill you yet.” He pointed to the staircase going up, and this time she followed his order. “I have to be sure no one knew you were at Semenov’s place. I can’t have any more loose ends. Since I have a job tomorrow, I’ll be taking you with me. You’ve shown you can’t be trusted.”
“You can’t earn my loyalty by kidnapping me.”
He closed his bedroom door behind them. “Get on the bed,” he said.
“What?”
“The bed. Get on it. It’s past fucking midnight, and I have to be up early.”
She walked backward, not taking her eyes off him. If he’d wanted to, he could have beat the shit out her, raped her, and killed her a dozen different ways. The fact she still had a look of fear in her eyes was starting to piss him off.
The light hurt his head, so as soon as she sat on the bed, he turned off all the lights. Only a faint glow from the moon filtered in through the window. He didn’t have curtains on the second-floor rooms. Bain couldn’t even count the number of nights he’d lie awake on his bed, staring up at the moon, feeling nothing and everything at the same time. He was fucked up, and there was no way to undo the damage. He was waste of breath. When he died, he’d leave nothing behind, not even a legacy or heir … just death.
He tossed his joggers and slipped under the blankets.
She looked stiff and uncomfortable. “You going to sleep in your fancy little suit?”
“I’m fine,” she said.
“Suit yourself.”
He rolled to his back, draping an arm over his eyes as he let out a low groan. It would be simple to take a couple pills to ease the agony, but he didn’t trust any kind of painkiller. After being drugged, beaten, and starved when he was young, he never wanted to allow anything to alter his mind again.
The room was quiet enough to hear a pin drop.
He listened to Scarlett breathing next to him, her weight shifting slightly when she moved.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re in pain. I can tell. What’s wrong?”
He shook his head to dismiss her. “It’s just a headache. I get them all the time.”
“Really?” She sat up in the bed, wiggling closer until she was on her knees. When her hand touched his face, he flinched. “Shhh,” she cooed, massaging his temples in a rhythmic pattern.
He didn’t stop her.
“My grandmother used to do this to me when I had a headache.” Her hands worked some kind of magic, soothing the ache and making him feel human again. “I guess it’s an old family secret passed down to me. I never tried in on someone else before.”
“Why’re you doing this for me?” he asked. Bain seized her hand and hoisted himself up into a sitting position.
She didn’t answer him. They looked at each other, and that same fucking feeling he had earlier came back. This time he wasn’t as strong. He cupped the back of her head and pulled her closer. He paused briefly, then kissed her hard on the mouth. What he didn’t expect was the way her lips melted against his with no resistance at all.
Chapter Four
This was the craziest thing she had ever done in her life. Scarlett knew that there was no way out for her. Even if she went to the cops and begged for protection they couldn’t help her. No one could. In the few hours she had come to know Bain, she’d learned he wasn’t a man to be messed with. He always found his target.
The feel of his lips on hers was such a heady experience, and she closed her eyes, simply basking in his touch. He cupped the back of her head, and his tongue stroked along her lips before diving in.
She whimpered as he held her close. For the first time in her life she felt small, delicate, and her body came to life, wanting so much more. Resting her hand on his chest, she felt the pounding of his heart and suddenly pulled away, staring at him.
There was no way this man was human. He seemed so cold, so callous. How did he even feel? And yet, his heart was pounding, and she’d seen the pain in his eyes.
“Why wouldn’t I do it for you?” she said. “You were hurting, and I’m not a cruel person. You don’t deserve to suffer.” She dropped her hand down on the bed and licked her suddenly sore lips. It had been a long time since she had been kissed like that.
Bain didn’t let go of her head, and she couldn’t look in his eyes anymore. It was just too hard to have these feelings rushing through her. Nothing made a whole lot of sense.
“I’ve never been very good at any of this,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“Sex. Coping. Understanding. You wouldn’t understand. I’ve never been able to connect, and the men I’ve been with, they weren’t exactly good guys.” He released her head, and she ran a hand over her face and wrinkled her nose. She stank really bad. “My last boyfriend, it was bad, and I finally left him over a year ago. Ever since I was a little girl, I always wanted to be a reporter. One thing after another stopped me from being what I wanted to be. Then this opportunity opened up, but again, if you don’t fit the model, they pass you over. I’m not some twenty-something anymore. I’m not slim, not that I ever was, and I’m not pretty. I’m fat, frumpy, and ugly, trying to make my way in this superficial world. This interview was going to kickstart it.” She smiled at him. “I know you don’t want me to interview you. You’re just waiting to find out knows about where I was.” She took a deep breath. All of her life she had fought these feelings of not belonging. Only her grandma had ever been able to make her feel wanted, loved. Death would be easier. “I told someone. I don’t w
ant you to hurt her.”
“I already know you told someone, Scarlett.”
“You’re a killer. Contracted and all of that. Kill me, put me in my apartment. You can make it look like an accident or something. I’ve got a history of depression.” She saw him frown. “Please, don’t hurt her.”
She saw his jaw clench. “You’re begging me to kill you?”
“Yes. Kill me, Bain. No one has to die because of me.”
“You have a history of depression?”
“Yes. See? I have the perfect out, and you don’t even have to work hard for it. I won’t fight you.” He suddenly pulled away and began to pace beside his bed, and he glared at her. “You know it’s the only way.” She couldn’t believe that she was begging for someone to kill her. Tears filled her eyes, and she climbed off the bed. “Please.”
“I’m not going to kill you.”
“Why not?”
“I want to tell my story. I wasn’t lying to you about that, and I’m not ready to kill you.” He took hold of her hand and turned it over. “You have no previous scar wounds.”
“I was depressed, not suicidal. I’ve not tried to end my life before. Never thought I had the guts to do it.” She shrugged and frowned. “It’s weird how I’m feeling right now. I’ve never felt like this.” She placed a hand over her lips and stared at him. She didn’t like the sadness in his eyes as he looked at her.
“I’m not going to kill you, Scarlett. Now, do you want to bathe? There will be plenty of hot water.” He tugged back on his joggers and flicked on a lamp.
She crossed her arms over her chest. Did she want to wash? Yes, she did. She smelled and not in a very nice way. “I won’t run away.”
“I know you won’t. There’s nowhere for you to run. This place is heavily guarded. I’m not going to hurt you.” He brushed past her going straight toward the bathroom.
Even though this man held her life in his hands, she couldn’t help but admire his ass. It was so tight as he walked. The sweats he wore molded to his ass, and then went baggy around the thighs.
He paused and turned toward her. “Are you coming?”
“You’re not killing me?”
“I said I wasn’t killing you. You’re easy to talk to.” He shook his head. “You’re fucking confusing me. Just get your ass in the bathroom.”
She stared around the bedroom and wondered what the hell was going on. One moment he wanted to go to bed to sleep, now he wanted her to wash. Nothing made any sense, and tonight was totally illogical.
Entering the bathroom, she saw him bending over the bath, adding some scented bubbles.
Scarlett smiled. “I never imagined you having bubbles in the bath.”
“This one offers to relax muscles, and I need to relax these tired muscles as much as I can. I’m not getting any younger.” He stood tall, and she heard his back click, at which she winced. “I’m no spring chicken anymore.”
“I know that feeling all too well.”
“I’ll be at the door. I’ll give you enough privacy to get in the bath so I don’t see anything.”
She watched as his back was to her, and then she removed her dirtied white blouse, followed by her skirt. As soon as she was naked and in the bath, she let him know. He took a seat and leaned back, arms folded over his chest.
“How is your head?”
“It’s fine. Whatever you did, it eased the pressure, and I can think now.”
“I’m glad I was able to help. Migraines can be the worst.” She ran her hands through the bubbles. Everything was somewhat surreal to her. “Do you have any family?” she asked.
“No. None. I would say in the entire world I have one friend, and I think ‘friend’ is even pushing that description. We’re colleagues.” He ran a hand over his head. “We were captured, and he was one of the hardest people I’ve ever known. Some of the kids the people took off the street, they were lambs heading to the slaughter. They didn’t make it a couple of days, let alone weeks. His name’s Viper.”
She nodded. “And he was a child soldier of some kind? Like you?”
“You could say that. We were given jobs even at a young age to prove our loyalty. The moment they took us, any sense of a childhood was destroyed. There was no time for playing around or games. There was no Christmas or birthday parties. It was work, training, practice. Over and over again. Everything else faded away.”
He was opening up to her, and she found his voice soothing. It was hard and gruff and hypnotic at the same time. Licking her dry lips, she turned so that she was facing him. The bubbles gave her some semblance of modesty.
“What happened to the kids who couldn’t do it?” she asked.
The pain in his eyes along with the disgust cut her to the core. “Their bodies mounted up until they burned them. If you couldn’t do what they wanted, you weren’t good enough to keep around, and if you weren’t good enough to keep around, you were only useful for one thing, and that was training.”
She covered her mouth as she watched a single tear slide out of the corner of his eye, and he moved fast, wiping it away as if it was never there. Sucking her lips into her mouth, she closed her eyes and couldn’t even begin to imagine.
“It’s like something out of a horror film,” she said.
“To a lot of people it probably is. It was no picnic. My story doesn’t end with a happily ever after, Scarlett, but for a lot of kids, it ended in pain, suffering, and death. Those assholes didn’t give a shit about anyone or anything.”
“Killing has become your life’s work.”
“It’s all I know, and it will always be what I know.” He pointed at his ink. “You think I didn’t fight for them? That I didn’t take beatings every single day to try and save them? None of our captors would listen. Some of the kids were no older than five, and they had no right to be there.”
“What about their families?” she asked. “There had to have been searches. People don’t just allow kids to be taken.”
“They don’t allow kids from good families to be taken, Scarlett. The world isn’t full of good people. Kids come and go, and no one gives a shit unless their parents do.”
The thought of those kids, alone and dying, broke her heart. “How old were you?”
He stared at her for the longest time, and with each second of silence her heart broke. “I was around ten years old. I was one of the first kids they took. We’re done talking tonight. I need you to finish washing.” He stood up, walking away. She looked at the vacant chair, and her heart broke for the boy he had once been. He was the oldest boy, and yet he’d been taken at such a young age.
“Bain?” She called his name, needing an answer to her question. He appeared in the doorway holding a pair of boxers and a really long shirt. “What happened to the people that took you?”
“They’re dead. Viper and I, together we made sure they were fucking annihilated.”
“Good.” And she meant that, deep in her soul. She was pleased those evil bastards were dead.
She finished washing her body and her hair in the scented soap. When she was done, Bain held out a towel. She stood up and took it.
“I thought you said you were shy.”
“I lied.”
****
The following day, Bain stood in the center of the apartment, keeping a safe distance away from the balconies. Lunch hour was fast approaching, and he’d already opened the door. This wasn’t the first time he’d thrown someone off a balcony, and it wouldn’t be the last. The furniture in the apartment was modern, black leather and abstract art. Not his style.
Sucking on his lollipop, he checked the time to see that he still had five minutes before the mark came walking through the front door.
There were going to be plenty of witnesses to the death, which was exactly what Boss wanted. Bain’s thoughts were not on the easy mark though. They were on the woman he’d stored in the trunk of his car after giving her a sedative. He could have left her home, but he couldn’t risk her
causing a problem. He liked his place, and he couldn’t stand mess. She’d probably trash the whole house.
He didn’t trust Boss either.
Bain wasn’t an idiot and figured Boss would find a way into his house and deal with Scarlett himself. People thought Bain was a cold and ruthless bastard, and yet they didn’t have a clue who Boss was. That man was a cold fucker. He’d stab you in the heart while laughing at one of your jokes. Even Bain was cautious around the owner of Killer of Kings.
The moment he thought about Scarlett, the image of her naked with bubbles running down her body filled his mind. She was sexy as fuck. Her curves were meant for a man’s loving. Her hips were wide and her ass plump. He didn’t know what he loved most, those big breasts with the large red nipples, or her thighs, which he could imagine wrapped around his waist as he fucked her hard.
She was the first woman that had ever affected him this way. He was trained in all kinds of seduction, taking women to new heights. When he was younger he was shown how to please a woman in every way. He’d been forced to practice on so many different women. Their faces had all blended together until he got no enjoyment from it at all. All pussy was the same. It was either tight or loose.
Since becoming a man, he’d taken plenty of women, but it had been on his own terms. Scarlett was different. Her lips last night had awakened him in some way, and a little part of him was freaking out.
One kiss from her, and his night had been filled with thoughts that an average teenage boy should be plagued with, not him.
He was past wet dreams and shit like that. When he’d woken up this morning, she had been wrapped in his arms, and his cock had been too fucking hard to deal with, the tip wet from his pre-cum. He’d been unable to resist running his hands up and down her glorious body, and yet that hadn’t been enough for him. Where was his unbreakable control? He didn’t have a clue what was happening to him.