Angel of Death

by Suzanne Steele

  “I don’t give a fuck if she’s ready or not. I’m not babysitting her or anyone else as far as that goes.”

  Jericho removed his feet from his desk and sat up straight, in an attempt to hide just how angry he was. “You listen to me. I took this job in an effort to save the woman’s life, so I am babysitting. I’ve never, nor will I ever, put a civilian in danger to get a job done.”

  “You slept with her. Damnit, Jericho. What the hell were you thinking? You find a way to get her ass back in that hospital. She’s our ticket to catching this guy. As far as her being in danger, the day she met you is the day she descended into the bowels of being endangered. Don’t kid yourself, agent. You and I both know you’re as dark as the fucking killers you hunt. It’s what makes you so good at your job. Now do your job and quit thinking with the wrong head.”

  Asshole… the only word that came to mind when the line went dead. In his effort to save the woman who wanted him to kill her, he’d put her life in more danger.

  He pushed his rolling chair away from the desk and made his way into the bedroom. He could feel a tug in his chest as he viewed her seated on the bed writing in a notebook. He made his way over to her and took the notepad and pen, reading over what she’d written.

  “Hey. Is there nothing sacred?”

  He reached up, removing her glasses and placed them on the nightstand. “Hell no, there isn’t. You’re in my house now. You’re in my bed too. That means I get to use you however I see fit.”

  He resisted the urge to chuckle when he viewed the shocked look on her face. His eyes searched her face as he pulled her shirt off and followed it with removing the panties she had on beneath it. He bent her legs at the knees and spread them apart, giving him a view that shot straight to his cock. When she attempted closing them, he pressed them apart forcefully. The look in his eyes dared her to attempt closing them again.

  “Your body belongs to me now.” He got up, stripping his clothes off and sat on the edge of the bed. His fingers languidly toyed between her legs as he watched a blush rise in her face.

  “Don’t you dare look away from me! In time, I’ll know every sacred secret you hide from the world. I’ll know you better than you know yourself.” Her head fell to the side in a lazy haze of pleasure, but she never removed her eyes from his, not wanting to break the magic of the moment.

  “I love the way your body responds to me.” He slipped his finger out and pressed it against her lips. Like a wanton woman, she opened her mouth, sucking it. Their eyes being locked on each other added to the heat of the moment.

  “That’s what you taste like, kitten. You’re far more feral than you realize. I’m going to show you things about yourself that you never knew existed.”

  He pulled her over in his direction, standing her up over his hard cock. She eased down on him, instinctively knowing what he wanted. She could feel her body stretching to take in his large member. She felt like he was probing the deepest parts of her soul that she had closed off so many years ago. She couldn’t help but fear the power he already held over her to get past her walls she’d built and her inhibitions she’d carried all of her life.

  He pulled her body in, taking a nipple into his mouth, biting down just enough to see a spark of trepidation in her eyes. His tongue flicked over her peaked nipple as his fingers slid between her legs, adding to the sensation that made her feel like she was coming unglued. He thrust his hips viciously, causing her to gasp. Her fingernails dug into the skin on his back. The sensation spurred him on. He could feel the walls of her wet, tight opening clamping down on him. “That’s it, baby. Let go of everything you're feeling and give it to me. I’ve got big shoulders, girl. You don’t have to carry the pain alone anymore.”

  Her body exploded, shuddering against him as he filled her full of all the passion and need he already had for her. He was doing what no other man had ever been able to do. He was making love to her emotionally while fucking her physically. This man was a multi-layered enigma who was pulling her deeper into his web with each passing moment. Every time he touched her body, he touched her soul as well. He was hiding something. She didn’t know what yet. The not knowing only added to the intrigue she already felt towards him.

  He gave her a moment to make her way out of the post lovemaking haze that had settled on them before leading her into the bathroom and running a hot tub of water, laced with bath salts that fragranced the room. He sat against the back of the tub and she sat between his legs, leaning her head back against his chest. It was the first time she’d felt any semblance of peace in a long time. She closed her eyes, soaking up the unfamiliar feeling. She would need it with what he was getting ready to tell her.

  “We need to talk. I’m not who you think I am.”

  She jerked her head around and looked into his face. She knew it, all this was too good to be true.

  “Oh geez, Jericho. Are you gonna tell me you’re married or something?”

  His laughter rang through the air and she splashed him with water in frustration. “Just tell me already. Just like a band aid, rip it off fast.”

  “Why does everything have to be bad news with you?”

  “I learned a long time ago that life was capable of more than kicking my ass.”

  “Don’t be so fucking dramatic. I’m an FBI agent. I’ve been working undercover.”

  “So, you being a mercy killer is a ruse?”

  “Yes. I’ve been following a doctor at the hospital where you work. He’s killing off patients and taking their money.”

  “So, all this”—she pointed her finger back and forth between them— “is a lie? You fucked me to get information?”

  He grabbed her arm, squeezing, and clamped down tighter when she attempted jerking away from him. He spoke between clenched teeth in a low angry tone. “You and me, that’s real. I followed you for months. I watched you crying out in anguish at the grave of your only child. It tore at my insides like it was my baby you were grieving for. It killed me to see you like that. I vowed I would do anything I could to make you smile again. I knew I cared about you before I ever brought you here. Don’t ever fucking accuse me or question what I feel for you. There ain’t a fake bone in my body, girl. You never would have come here if I’d told you who I was. I brought you here to save your life.”

  “What do you want from me, Jericho?”

  “I want you. I never meant to put you in danger. I unknowingly put you in danger by bringing you here. My boss called this morning”—

  “He wants you to use me to help take down the doctor.”

  “—yes, that’s right.”

  “Yeah, well you can accuse me of being crazy, but never stupid. I knew you were hiding something from me.”

  “I never thought you were crazy or stupid. Your trust—the trust you’ve shown me without even knowing you were exhibiting it, has evoked my most protective instincts. We are family. You’ve lost yours. I have none. Now… it’s you and me. You are entirely safe with me. You’d do well not to underestimate my obsession with you. I won’t let you go, and if you try to leave, I’m not certain what I’ll do or how far I’ll go to keep you here with me.”

  His expression took on a faraway look like he was somewhere else other than the present—like he was some outsider looking into his own dark depraved way of thinking. “I’m as fucked up as the killers I hunt. My boss even said that on the phone this morning. You know… my mother wanted me to kill her. As badly as I wanted to, as tempted as I was to take her away from her rotting flesh, I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t do it. I feel like a coward for not doing it, and I feel guilty for wanting to. I fully understand what it is to be imprisoned within yourself—no hope of freedom—no escape from the pain. We are two souls living in the same fucked up fishbowl of dysfunction. Maybe we can set each other free. Maybe you are my redeeming angel.”

  All the anger she’d felt just moments ago dissipated, like the bath water that would go down the drain in the next few moments. For the
first time in her life she had a kindred soul who truly understood what real pain was. It isn’t the physical pain that scars us in the depths of our souls. It’s the emotional pain that wraps its tentacles around our hearts and squeezes the will to live out of us. She’d purposed to be angry with him, but all she’d succeeded in doing was being more bonded to this mystery man after he shared his story with her.

  She knew instinctively that he wasn’t in the habit of telling people intimate details of his past life. His trust in her had evoked her most protective instincts too. He was right. They were family, bound by obsession and forged in pain. She knew there would be no escaping him, because even if she broke free from his physical bonds, she would never break free from the chains he had so intricately wrapped around her heart.

  Chapter Eight

  Dr. Jackson made his way through the hospital hallway with his head held high and his oversized god complex intact. Yes… life was good. He was the proud owner of a multi-million-dollar inheritance. Life was good for the living—death for the dying, not so much. She was in a better place now, if you believed all that stuff her beloved television preachers spouted out over the airwaves week after week. There is a God and you’re not him. Murderer, thief, liar.

  It wasn’t uncommon for dying patients to leave an inheritance to the doctors who had tried in vain to heal them. Many times, it was how they paid their exorbitant medical bills. He would wait awhile before he cashed in on the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Let his lawyer deal with the details of keeping his stellar reputation intact. He paid him enough, and the percentage he’d get would insure any sudden wave of conscience arising and getting in the way of the windfall. He’d made certain when he hired the lawyer to get the most cutthroat son of a bitch he could find. The liability insurance alone that was required for surgeons to have was enough to break the average man’s bank account. The way he saw it, having a lawyer to cover his ass was just added policy, another form of insurance.

  It amused him when he thought about the idealism he’d possessed as a young intern. His future bright with possibilities until reality came in and bit a big chunk out of his dreams. All that was gone now, and he was left with big dose of fucked up realism.

  The doctor knew he was pushing fate, but bills piling up trumped fear of getting caught any day of the week. No one would suspect him. He was a hero. In moments like these the power was intoxicating. There is a God and you’re not him. Judgement day is coming. He slipped his hand in his white lab coat and pulled out three Oxycontin. He looked around ensuring no one else was in the long fluorescent lit hallway before he popped them in his mouth and chewed them up. He quickly took a gulp of the coffee he held in an effort to counteract the bitter aftertaste they left in his mouth. He needed to be numb, to cease from feeling. But more than anything, he needed to silence those fucking voices in his head that were getting louder with each passing day.

  He’d no sooner swallowed the pills before he looked up and saw one of the hospital’s doctors coming around the winding bend of the long hallway.

  “Doctor Jackson. So good to see you.” The fellow surgeon trotted up the hallway towards him as he spoke. Great. Now he had to talk to him. He couldn’t help but resent the welcoming smile on the man’s face like he was excited to see him. Lately, he found himself avoiding people as much as a man in his position could. Working in the public eye made it almost impossible to do so, but hey, a man could dream.

  “I heard Matilda Mayweather died.” He punched his colleague in the arm jokingly. “If you end up getting another windfall of money from a dead patient, people are going to start talking.”

  The comment socked him in the gut, making him feel like he couldn’t breathe. Were people talking? Judgement day’s coming. The other doctor was still talking, but Doctor Jackson wasn’t hearing the words. They were more like a background noise—an irritating white noise, like a television with no reception.

  “Why doesn’t anybody ever leave me in their will?” The whiney tone in his colleague’s voice sickened him, but it gave credence that the fact the guy was actually serious.

  What a big fucking baby. “Well, no amount of money can erase the pain of losing a patient. I think as surgeons we always wonder if we could have done more.” Liar.

  “Aw, hell. She was on death’s doorstep anyway. It isn’t like she didn’t live a full life. She’d gone beyond senior citizen to night of the living dead.” The doctor guffawed at his own bad joke. Even Doctor Jackson found it hard to believe that the man could be so insensitive. He commended himself inwardly for allowing the woman her dignity up until her death. He found the other doctor’s attitude to be distasteful.

  Now it was his turn to be sarcastic. “Your bedside manner leaves much to be desired.”

  “Oh, admit it—you know what I’m saying. Anyway, great talking to you. I’ve got a patient with an intestinal blockage that I need to look in on. Maybe if she dies, she’ll leave me some money.” He chuckled at his own joke as he made his way down the hallway. He didn’t hear Dr. Jackson’s reply. “Your bedside manner sucks.” Hypocrite. The irony of his double standards never struck him. Perhaps denial was working in his favor. Now… if he could just shut those fucking voices up.

  Chapter Nine

  “You don’t have to do this.”

  “You’re having second thoughts now?”

  “I’m having thoughts of some psychotic doctor drugging you and killing you. The guy’s crazy.”

  Angel turned from where she was, adjusting her scrubs in the mirror to hide the listening device, and she gave Jericho her full attention. She could see the mixture of earnestness and trepidation in his eyes. He was having second thoughts. It wasn’t the fact he was second guessing the decision to use her to catch a killer that intrigued her, it was the loss she saw in his eyes. She was familiar with it and knew it all too well.

  “I want to do this. As far I’m concerned, what he’s doing is despicable. It’s a black eye to the medical community. He needs to be stopped.”

  When he placed his hands on her shoulders and pulled her in closely to his body, covering her mouth with his, he didn’t need to say anything. She could feel everything she needed to know. He would never let her go. For a fleeting second she wondered just how far this man would go to keep her under his control.

  “I’ve got this.” She said it with much more confidence than what she was feeling. In all honesty, it was all she could think of to say. Before she lost her nerve, she headed towards the doorway. As she excited, he grabbed her arm. The look on his face had changed to one of something similar to a snarl.

  “I expect your ass home as soon as your shift’s over.”

  “Home?”

  “Yeah, this”—he motioned his finger back and forth between them to make his point— “is your home now.” One corner of his lip turned up in a threatening manner. “Of course, there’s always the alternative—the basement.”

  A cold chill ran up her spine. This wasn’t a threat; it was a choice. A choice to stay willingly or be kept unwillingly. What she didn’t understand was why the fear of him making her stay made her moist with need between her thighs.

  She gave him a peck on the cheek in an easy manner, as if she wasn’t feeling the conglomeration of mixed emotions she was feeling, and she made her way out to the car he’d retrieved from her house the night before.

  The last vision she had of him was a man standing shirtless in unbuttoned jeans, leaned against the doorway, studying her with suspicion. And the only thing she could think was: damn, he looks good.

  For the first time in years, she felt something she hadn’t felt: alive. She was actually excited about the prospect of catching a man who was using dying patients’ illnesses against them. She wondered what was any different about her wanting someone to assist her in suicide. She realized the difference was choice—Jericho hadn’t taken hers away from her. Even when he gave her thirty days to let him attempt changing her mind, he had still given her th
e power to choose.

  It was amazing how much this stranger had changed her in such a short amount of time. She hadn’t been looking for a savior when she found the angel of death. Even though she knew he wasn’t the angel of death, but an agent of mercy, there was still something sinister about him. She knew instinctively that he wasn’t the kind of man who wouldn’t follow through with a threat. She also knew she would push him anyway. It was just who she was. She wouldn’t tell him, but she was going to do whatever she needed to do to stop the doctor who was putting his bank account before the safety of his patients. It sickened her that someone in the medical field would use patients to pad their pockets. Where was this man’s humanity?

  Chapter Ten

  You left something in that room. They know what you did. All the hospital employees are talking behind your back. Thief. Liar. Murderer. Doctor Jackson pushed the voices to the back of his mind. He couldn’t have possibly left anything in that room. The murder weapon was a pillow for God’s sake. He reached in his pocket for two of the pills that would numb the guilt and tone down the voices in his head to a dull nagging, rather than a full blown accusatory roar.

  He’d barely popped them in his mouth and taken a drink of coffee to wash them down when one of the surgical nurses walked into the staffroom. She casually made her way over to the coffee pot, and she removed the lid from her personal coffee cup she carried and refilled it. He waited until she was finished to speak.

  “I thought you were on vacation.”

  “Working quiets the voices. After a few days, I needed to come back. It’s like my brain never shuts down. Even when I leave here, my mind is still on work. I’m certain you know the feeling.”

  That got his attention. Could there really be someone else who dealt with their demons to the extent he did? He made his way over to her, setting his coffee down on one of the tables. “You know I’ve been thinking I’d like to work with you more.”