by Ava Bloom
Then, her weight shifted off the bed, and I opened my eyes to see her taking her own clothes off. Slowly, she slipped the oversized shorts I’d given her down to the floor where they puddled around her feet. She grabbed the hem of the large t-shirt and pulled up one side of it, letting me see her black cotton panties. They were plain and simple, yet still the sexiest things I’d ever seen. I cocked an eyebrow and bit my lip, and she smiled. Finally, she grabbed the bottom of her t-shirt with both hands and pulled it over her head. Her breasts bounced free, and I thought that I had never seen anyone so beautiful in all my life.
I reached out for her and she took my hand, allowing me to pull her back onto the bed where she settled above me, her knees on either side of my hips.
“I didn’t think this would ever happen again,” I said honestly.
“Me either,” she whispered back. “I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to forgive you.”
“Why did you?” I knew it would probably be smarter to stay quiet and enjoy this moment while I could, but I needed to know this wasn’t something Josephine would regret in the morning. I needed to know this meant as much to her as it did to me.
“Because you didn’t choose for any of this to happen. And because you’re a good son who loves his mom.” She placed her hand over the tattoo at my heart, her fingers scratching lightly across the skin, sending shocks of electricity through me. “And because even when I was angry at you, I still thought you were the most attractive man I’ve ever seen.”
I raised my eyebrows and smiled. “You don’t say?”
She laughed. “Now, don’t go getting cocky.”
I pulled her down against my chest and placed my hands on either side of her face. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I’m sorry I lied to you. I promise to never do it again.”
Josephine pressed her lips to me and then pulled back, her eyes dark and hungry. “I don’t want to talk anymore.”
Before I could respond, she reached down and wrapped her hand around my length, pressing me against her opening. My lips parted as she slid herself up and down against me several times. Then, finally, she lowered herself down.
She controlled the pace, pushing down on me slowly before lifting up and starting over again. Watching the way her forehead wrinkled as she stretched around me was beyond sexy, and I thought I’d be happy to do that forever. But then, I was all the way inside of her, and I realized that was better. Our bodies were flush with one another and Josephine rolled her hips against me, grinding down onto me. We moved to a slow rhythm, taking our time with one another, luxuriating in the feeling of being together. But then, the warmth inside of me began to spread. I could feel something rising up inside of me that demanded more.
My hips began to buck up into her, and each time her mouth parted in a small ‘O.’ She fell forward, laying against my chest and I grabbed handfuls of the soft skin of her hips, using it for leverage as I pulsed into her faster and faster. Her breathing became erratic. I could feel her chest thrashing against mine as her exhales became tiny moans. At that moment, I didn’t care who could hear us. I was so close, and I knew she was, too. I lifted and lowered her body in time with my thrusts, and Josephine bit down on my shoulder to quiet her groans of pleasure.
We came at the same time and then collapsed together in a tangle of sheets and limbs.
* * *
I woke to Josephine tapping on my chest. I grabbed her hand and kissed her palm, but she pulled it away.
“Lance.”
“Uh-huh,” I mumbled.
“I hear something.”
I woke up immediately. The bedside lamp was still on, so my eyes were already adjusted to the light. I slid my legs out of the bed, pulled my pants on, and grabbed the gun I’d stashed under the bed.
“What did you hear?” I asked.
Josephine was getting her clothes on, too. I was surprised because I hadn’t even heard her get out of bed. “I’m not sure,” she said. “It sounded like…”
“Like what?”
“Crying,” she said, as though she wished it weren’t true.
My heart flipped, and I took a deep breath, doing my best to calm the panic rising up inside of me.
“Stay here. I’ll be back,” I said.
“And what if you aren’t?” Her eyes were wide with fear and adrenaline. I wanted to turn back and comfort her, kiss her one last time, perhaps. But there was no time. Instead, I smiled, pulled open my door, and stepped into the hallway.
The house was dark and quiet, but something felt off. It was like walking into your house and noticing things weren’t quite where you’d left them. I tiptoed down the hallway to my mom’s room. The door was open and when I looked inside, I could see her bed was empty. Bile rose up in my throat, but I swallowed it down.
The house was small, so it only took me a few minutes to search it and decide she wasn’t in the house. Then, I looked through the kitchen window and saw the yellow glow of fluorescent lights coming from her shop in the back. Mom was an amateur woodworker who mostly excelled in making lopsided birdhouses, but that didn’t stop her from trying. However, I’d never known her to woodwork at two in the morning.
The grass was wet with early morning dew as I crossed the yard and knocked on the metal door to the ship.
“Ma?”
There was no answer. I hesitated, afraid of what I’d find when I opened the door, but I knew there was no other option. I turned the knob and stepped inside.
My mom was in the middle of the room, lengths of rope wrapped around her ankles and her arms. She had a gag in her mouth, and her eyes were wide and observant, but not panicked as I walked inside.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded and then her eyes darted to the far-right corner. I followed her gaze and saw a man standing there, a gun pointed in my direction.
“Where’s the girl?” he asked, clearly meaning Josephine.
“Not here.”
“Liar.” He spat at me, and then directed me with his gun. “Move over with dear old mom, please. And kindly set your gun on the floor before you do.”
“You’re polite,” I said. “For a hitman.”
As I bent to set my gun on the ground, I caught a glimpse of something through the shop door. It was Josephine, creeping from the house to the shop, something in her hands. Quickly, I looked away and moved across the room towards my mom. I reached out a hand to comfort her, but the man made a warning noise in the back of his throat and shook his head.
“Everyone keep your hands to yourself,” he said. “I’d like this to be plain and simple. I don’t intend to end up like the last hitman that came after you. Marvin wants all three of you dead, so that’s what I’m here to do. If you all could cooperate, that would be lovely.”
The man was roughly my size, though he looked like he carried a little more pudge across his middle. He stepped out of the corner and came to stand in front of us, his back towards the door.
“I’ll do away with the two of you and then go back for the girl. Who would like to go first?” he asked. “Mother and then son, or son and then mother? Marvin liked the idea of mother and then son, but I like to weigh my options.”
Josephine stepped into the frame of the door and I noticed my mom jolt slightly beside me.
“You don’t have to do this,” I said, trying to distract the man. “You don’t have to do whatever Marvin tells you to do.”
“I do unless I want to end up like you,” he said. “Marvin has everyone on the lookout for you. I was the only one who thought you’d be dumb enough to go straight to your mom’s house and hunker down.”
“That was clever of you,” I said.
He smiled. “Thank you. For that, maybe I’ll kill you first. Or actually,” he said, taking turns pointing the gun at each of us. “Maybe I’ll do a quick round of ‘Eeny, meeny, miny, mo.’”
Josephine was creeping up behind him, and I realized she had a length of rope in her hands. It took me a few sec
onds to realize it was the rope from the old tire swing in the front yard. She had it stretched between her hands, ready to attack, as she tiptoed across the floor in her bare feet.
He pointed the gun at me. “Eeny.” Then, at mom. “Meeny.” And continued, his face pulling into a sadistic smile. It was clear he enjoyed what he was doing. I wondered how many people he had tortured like this before killing them. I had always gone for the quick kills, hoping the person wouldn’t sense it coming. This man liked to play with his targets before he ended them, though.
Josephine raised the rope above her head as he neared the end of the song, drawing out the last four words, swiveling the gun between my mom and me. He was on the last word, preparing to point it at my mom and pull the trigger when the rope came down around his neck.
He flailed and the gun went off, but it ricocheted off the back wall. Josephine was twisting the rope tightly around his neck, and I lunged forward and kicked the gun out of his hands. I grabbed the length of rope from Josephine’s hands and wound them together over and over again, tightening the circle around the man’s neck. His skin bulged out from between the rope like clay being squeezed through a grate. He collapsed to his knees, eyes red and building, lips going purple. Then, he fell forward, his body making a sickening crunch against the concrete floor. I tied the rope into place and left him there, leaving to untie my mom.
She was already wiggling her hands free from the poorly tied restraints, but I helped slip the gag off of her mouth and untie her ankles.
“What an idiot,” she said, looking at the dying man on her floor. “He turned his back to an open door, leaving himself vulnerable for attack. What kind of hitman does that?”
“Not a very good one,” I admitted.
She reached out and ran her hand along my cheek. “Are you okay?”
I nodded, not sure what to say. I didn’t know how to explain any of this.
“And you’re okay, Josephine?”
Josephine nodded and smiled.
“Good work with the rope. You saved our lives,” she said.
I looked at my mom, confused about how she could be so calm. I opened my mouth, but she held out a hand to silence me. “I think it’s better if I know nothing. Whatever this is, it’s your business. I’ll stay out of it.”
Most moms would have been panicked and in shock, but my mom was cool as a cucumber. I couldn’t help it, I smiled. “You got it, ma.”
She turned her face to the side, her lips twisted into the corner, and I leaned forward a planted a kiss there just like I had when I was a kid.
15
Josephine
While Lance talked to his mom, I kept my eyes on the hitman, making sure he was really dead. While I was watching his skin turn an unnatural shade of purple, his phone rang. Without hesitating, I reached down and answered it.
“Hello?”
There was a brief pause on the end of the line, and then a deep voice asked, “Who is this?”
“Josephine Reed. Who is this?”
The man laughed. “I take this to mean my hitman is dead.”
“Dying, I think,” I said, kicking the man and getting one leg twitch in response. “But yes, soon to be dead.”
“Well, that is frustrating.”
Lance turned to me, eyes wide. “Is that Marvin?”
I nodded, and he extended his hand for the phone, but I waved him away. “I have a proposition for you.”
“You aren’t really in a position to be making propositions,” he said.
“And you aren’t really in a position to lose any more hitmen,” I said. “So, what do we really have to lose by hearing one another out?”
He clicked his tongue a few times. “Okay, fine. Let’s hear it.”
“You don’t want my witnesses testifying against you in court. I can guarantee you that they won’t,” I said.
“How?”
“I’ll tell them not to. They are terrified that you may track them down, so I’ll tell them it isn’t safe, and then I’ll disappear. My disappearance will prove how dangerous the situation is, they’ll back out, and the case will fall apart. It’s a win-win.”
“I could get that outcome on my own. Why should I let you escape?” he asked.
“Because we’ll keep killing the men you send after us. We’ve killed two already. How many more are you willing to lose before you’re successful?”
Marvin sighed. “I suppose you’ll want your boyfriend to be freed, as well, even though his father owes me money?”
“I have a strong suspicion you killed Marvin a long time ago. Men like him don’t disappear without a trace. You had him killed and then used his son to carry out your dirty work, am I right?”
He paused and then laughed. “This is exactly why I tried to have you killed. You’re clever. You should take it as a compliment, really, that I’ve gone to such great lengths to end your life.”
“Well, I’m flattered, then,” I said sarcastically. “Do we have a deal?”
Lance’s eyes widened in shock, his mouth hanging open.
“You let us go and stop sending people to kill us and his mom, and I’ll make sure no one testifies against you in court.”
There was a long pause. My heart was hammering in my chest. I was feigning confidence, but it was slowly fading away. I needed Marvin to agree so I could hang up the phone before I had a breakdown. Finally, he let out a sigh and then a chuckle. “You know what, why not? I’m in a good mood, and I’m ready to be done with all of you. Disappear and we won’t have a problem. The moment you’re spotted somewhere, I’ll have you all killed.”
The phone beeped and then went silent. He had hung up.
I dropped the phone on top of the dead man’s body, fell to my knees, and began to cry.
16
Epilogue - Lance
Epilogue - Lance
* * *
It took six months of living in the Greek isles for Lance and me to finally feel like Marvin Petrov wasn’t lurking just beyond every corner. Helena didn’t want to know any more about our situation than she needed to, but she had spent years putting together an emergency escape plan in case any of her ex-husband’s vices came back to haunt them. So, within forty-eight hours of the hitman attacking us, she had booked us flights under assumed identities she’d bought from a very shady figure, had passports ready, and handed us the keys to a tiny house that looked out on the Aegean Sea. Lance wrote his mother every week and she was saving up money to come out for a visit in a few months’ time.
It didn’t take much convincing for the witnesses I’d pulled together for the Pauly Martinetti case to back out, and though I didn’t follow up with them, I felt certain my sudden disappearance was enough to keep them far away from the courts where the Petrov family was involved. Mr. Whittaker did put Randy on the case, and I nearly wet myself when I saw that Pauly Martinetti was charged on all counts and given life in prison without the possibility of parole. I figured it wouldn’t be long before Randy tried to join us in hiding. Surely, Valente Martinetti was not pleased with the outcome of the case.
Putting the skills he’d learned as a hitman to the test, Lance set up shop as a private detective. It mostly involved tracking down cheating spouses and finding people who had skipped out on paying off money, but he enjoyed the work. I managed the front-end of the business. Meeting with clients, putting together timelines, and coordinating efforts with local law enforcement when necessary. We were the best private investigator place in town within the year.
Lance and I did not have a normal love story by any stretch of the imagination. We didn’t really get to know one another until we were living in hiding under assumed names, but we did still get to know one another, and as every day passed, we fell more in love.
After one of our usual lazy Saturdays lounging in the sand just in front of our house, the spray from the ocean washing over us as the sun rose, Lance rolled over and opened a small black box. Inside was the most beautiful ring I’d ever seen.
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“Josephine Reed,” he said, using my real name for the first time in almost a year.
Tears welled up in my eyes and I covered my mouth with my hands, trying to hold back my sobs until he was finished.
“You make me a better man, and I want to spend every day of the rest of my life making you happy. Would you do me the incredible honor of being my wife?”
The proposal was simple and sweet and private, everything I could have ever wanted. “Yes, of course,” I said between tears.
He slipped the ring onto my finger.
“Do you like it?” he asked. “I can get it re-sized if it doesn’t fit.”
“It’s perfect,” I said, smiling. “You’re perfect.”
“I love you,” he said. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
“I love you, too,” I said, rolling over, placing my knees on either side of his hips, and then leaning down until my lips brushed against his. “But I don’t want to talk anymore.”
He smiled, remember the time we’d made up and made love in his childhood room, and kissed me. He scooped me up like I weighed nothing and carried me inside. Though, we didn’t make it past the entrance hall before we were wrapped in each other’s arms, shaking and gasping with pleasure.
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