Young Love Murder

by April Brookshire

  “Don’t answer that,” Jackson speaks for the first time since leaving the club.

  “It’s Gabriel. He must be wondering where I’ve wandered off to. I should at least answer it and let him know I’m not at the club anymore.” God, I miss him already. Get used to it, drunk Annabelle.

  Jackson snatches my phone. “You’re not doing anything involving him until after we talk about your behavior.”

  Seriously? He’s about to get some aggressive behavior right in the jaw. “Why are you doing this, Jackson?” Dressed so casually, in jeans and a rugby shirt, I’m wondering how he got in the club. He probably bribed the doormen.

  “I’m doing it for your own good. Something is seriously wrong with you. I can tell. Until I figure out what that is, this job is temporarily on hold,” he says in a bemused tone.

  “Nothing is wrong with me,” I grit out the lie between clenched teeth.

  “Don’t try to convince me right now, Annabelle. We’ll talk about this when we can sit face to face.” Feeling warm, since Jackson didn’t put the AC on, I roll down the window. The night’s mild weather and the movement of the car produce a cool breeze. Taking a right turn at a green light puts us onto the street that our hotel is located.

  “Why face to face?” Unfortunately, I think I already know the answer to my question.

  “I want to look you in the eyes when we talk. You’re almost as good a liar as I am, but I know you better than anyone else, so I’ll be able to tell if you’re lying to me. Plus, you being drunk will only work in my favor,” he asserts smugly. Bastard.

  “I’m a better liar than you. Plus, I’m sobering up at an astonishing rate,” I retort. Jackson just laughs at me. At least he isn’t still mad at me, huffing and puffing and ready to blow all the skyscrapers down. I giggle at the thought. He shoots me a dirty look out of the corner of his eye. Okay, so I’m still kinda drunk.

  Five more minutes driving down the busy street and Jackson’s pulling into the hotel parking lot. As soon as he parks, I jump out of the car, not waiting for him. Ditching him to take an elevator up by myself, I head straight for the bathroom upon entering the suite. Jackson can just wait for the talk that he insists upon. I’m taking a shower.

  The blast of the water sobers me up a bit more. Wanting to be in something both comfy, for this unavoidable discussion about my behavior, and something that won’t hinder my ability to kick Jackson’s pompous ass if necessary, I pull on a pair of black yoga pants and a sport tank top. As I exit my bedroom, Jackson’s sitting in one of two sitting chairs in the living room. He motions for me to take the other chair, so I sit, putting the coffee table between us lengthwise.

  “What?” I ask snidely, giving him a disgruntled look.

  “First off, did you have a good time tonight?” That was so not the question I’d expected. And I know he doesn’t really care about me having a ‘good time’.

  I smile sweetly at him, changing my tone to match, “Why yes I did, dear brother. How about you? Any good shows on TV tonight?”

  He scowls. “I had thought that it would be a good night. You were supposed to finish this job tonight and we would’ve been leaving Miami tomorrow. But when you didn’t call, I went looking for you. I should have found you at a crime scene, covering your tracks after killing Xavier Sanchez, putting on a good act. Instead, I find you drunk at a club and knocking a guy out in front of witnesses.” Jackson is trying to be the calm, reasonable big brother right now, which always makes me want to piss him off.

  “The guy really needed knocking out,” I mutter loudly enough for him to hear, ignoring the other issues he’d brought up.

  “Maybe so, but it may not be wise to show off your talents in front of the target’s son,” his voice rises slightly, patience diminishing.

  “His name is Gabriel. You don’t have to call him the target’s son,” I remind him.

  He gives me a look, like I’ve gone insane. “No, I think I do. I think you need reminding of why you’re here in the first place and it isn’t to have a good time with the target’s son.” He stops to give me a disapproving look. “Why is Xavier Sanchez still alive?”

  So, he’s finally asked the big question. “It didn’t work out tonight.” I look him straight in the eyes while lying, daring him.

  “Why didn’t it work out?” he prompts.

  “The party was too crowded,” I lie to him.

  “You’re lying,” he says curtly, glowering at me.

  “How do you know?” Countering stubbornly, I glare back.

  “Like I’m gonna tell you. You’ll just figure out a way to lie better in the future. I’ll keep it a secret, since I’ll probably need to use it again sometime.” He smirks in that superior way that always makes me want to commit violence. That made me commit violence growing up.

  I’m starting to get really annoyed. I don’t answer to Jackson, he isn’t my boss. Until Simon is the one questioning me, I refuse to confess. “Can we get on with this interrogation?”

  Jackson rolls his eyes. “It’s not an interrogation. I’m just doing what’s best for you, Annie.”

  “What’s best for me is for you to give me my phone back. I need to smooth things over with Gabriel. Don’t need him breaking up with me and ruining the plan.” I tap my foot under the table impatiently to get the point across, but the floor is carpeted and it ruins the effect.

  “You can have it back when I find out what’s really going on. Why didn’t you kill Xavier Sanchez tonight? And I want the truth,” he says sternly. Yeah that warning look stopped being intimidating when I was eight.

  I’m silent for about a minute while I decide whether or not to tell him the truth. Jackson sits across from me patiently, like he has all the time in the world. Of course he does, not having anything better to do at the moment than bother me. “I was going to.”

  “And?” He raises one eyebrow and I want to yank the hair out, one at a time.

  There’s no getting around it, he’ll hound me until I spill. “I followed him when he went upstairs alone. I retrieved the weapon hidden in Gabriel’s room. I crept up behind him and choked.” Resigned, I tell the truth. Well the basics at least.

  “Why did you choke?” he asks, sitting forward in his chair. A brief flicker of surprise flashes over his smooth features before the calm facade is back in place. I know how he feels, I surprised myself tonight too.

  “It wasn’t the right time,” I reply lamely.

  “I think I know the answer, but I want to hear you say it. You’ve never choked before, not even your first time. Why wasn’t it the right time?” he asks, completely emotionless, except for his eyes. They tell another story. The intensity of his ire and disturbance burns brightly in them.

  I sit silently for almost a full minute, contemplating. Maybe I’ll feel better, confiding in Jackson. “It wasn’t the right time because . . . I want more time with Gabriel. Because . . . I think I’m falling in love with him.”

  Jackson almost jumps out of his chair, pounding his fists on the table. “Goddammit! What were you thinking, Annabelle? Falling for the target’s son?” As I thought, his calm facade was just that.

  “It’s not like I did it on purpose, Jackson! I couldn’t help it!” I yell at him defensively, tears forming in my eyes that I refuse to let spill.

  Taking a deep breath, he calms down enough to sit back down. “It’s okay. I’ll finish the job myself and we’ll leave. It can be like it never happened.”

  Those damn tears spill. “But I don’t want to leave Gabriel.” My throat is so tight I’m surprised I can get the words out. Not to mention the embarrassment of admitting all this to my brother.

  Jackson moves over to my side of the table and hugs me. Comforting, but it doesn’t solve the problem. “I know Annie, but it’s inevitable. Xavier Sanchez has to die and you can’t stick around afterwards, whether I do it or you do it. If anyone ever makes the connection you need to be long gone. You know that’s how things work.”

  I wipe my
cheeks with my fingers. “I know and I don’t need you to finish it for me, Jackson. I always finish my assignments. This one will be no different. That’s the best way for me to get my head back on straight.” But this job has been so different.

  Jackson looks me in the eyes, as if judging the truth of my words. “Are you sure?” His concern is beginning to overshadow his anger, lucky for me.

  “I have to be,” I say more confidently. I need to face the fact that I can never stay with Gabriel. Jackson is right. Gabriel’s father does need to die and staying with Gabriel afterwards would be both risky and unbearable. Perhaps even cruel, since I’d be his father’s murderer. It wasn’t meant to be.

  Jackson’s phone starts ringing and he looks at it, muttering darkly. “Fuck. Just what we need right now.” He answers it with, “Hello, Simon?” Silence. “She’s right here.” He hands me his cell.

  “Yes?” I manage to nervously get out.

  “Annabelle, has the job been completed?” he asks right off the bat.

  “Not yet. But it will be soon.”

  “I have information that Xavier Sanchez was in Miami tonight.” Of course he would know that. Simon always knows everything. His computer geek ferrets out the information for him.

  “Yes, he was, but I was unable to find the opportunity to finish the job. Sanchez was constantly surrounded by people tonight at his home. I’m certain I’ll be able to find an opportunity that involves no witnesses.” I feel guilty lying to Simon because I’ve never had to before.

  “I trust in your abilities, Annabelle.” He should, he taught me most of what I know.

  “Please put Jackson back on the phone for me,” Simon requests.

  “I just have one quick question, Simon.”

  “What would that be?” He sounds surprised. I don’t blame him, I rarely ask questions anymore.

  “I did have the opportunity to meet Xavier Sanchez tonight. Are you positive that he’s guilty, or is he just suspected of committing certain crimes? I wouldn’t want to kill a man because a legal business rival hired us.” I need to be sure before I hurt Gabriel in such a life-altering way. Standing across from me, Jackson’s resting his arms on the back of the chair he was occupying earlier, waiting for the answer along with me.

  Simon sighs on the other end of the phone. “Annabelle, you know I always double check what the client tells me. I’m absolutely positive that Xavier Sanchez is in need of a bullet to the head.” He confirms what I already know deep down. Just by meeting Xavier, I could tell what kind of man he is. I’ve been around enough bad guys to know one when I see one.

  “Thanks, Simon. Here’s Jackson.” I hand the phone over, getting up out of my chair to get a bottle of water out from the fridge. Jackson goes into his room to have a private conversation with Simon. Right now, I could really give a crap what they’re talking about. I know Jackson won’t tell Simon what’s really going on, at least not yet. We both respect Simon, but our loyalty to each other comes first.

  The pounding on the suite door makes me jerk and almost drop my glass. This is getting embarrassing. Whatever happened to my assassin nerves of steel? Knowing that it must be Gabriel at the door, I rush to Jackson’s room and find him on the balcony. He’s no longer on the phone with Simon, just leaning over the railing with the wind whipping his hair around. “Gabriel’s here. I need you to hide.”

  “Okay, I’ll stay out here.” He plops down on one of the rattan balcony chairs, looking tired. I shut the sliding glass door behind me, leaving him to hang out on the balcony. I also shut the long curtains, blocking the view of Jackson out there.

  When I open the door to Gabriel’s pounding, I’m surprised that Max is with him. I smile at them, but Gabriel brushes right past me. “Where is he?”

  “Where’s who?” I play dumb.

  “That Russian friend of yours.” Gabriel walks into my room, coming back out seconds later.

  “Why would he be here?” I ask Gabriel, putting a mask of confusion on my face.

  Gabriel walks into Jackson’s room and comes out. Thankfully he didn’t check the balcony. “Why? Because he dragged you out of the club tonight and I need to kick his ass for it!” Guess I was wrong in assuming that Gabriel didn’t see that happen.

  I hesitate only for a moment before saying, “It was no big deal. He was just worried about me.”

  Gabriel scowls. “Worried about you? Why would he be worried? You were with me.” That almost makes me want to smile, but I’m too stressed out right now. Max is quietly watching our exchange, looking amused.

  “Because he’s one of my parents’ bodyguards.” Jackson isn’t gargantuan, but he’s big enough for that to be believable. “That’s how I became friends with him. Tonight he saw me hit that asshole at the club and confronted me about it. Once he realized I was drunk, he became upset, knowing that I’ve never been drunk before. He went into bodyguard mode and dragged me back here,” I explain it slowly, as if what I’m saying is totally logical.

  “Why was he driving your car?” Gabriel questions me.

  That’s actually a good question, one that should have dawned on me to ask Jackson myself. I left my car at Gabriel’s house tonight. I’d hope that Jackson wouldn’t be crazy enough to retrieve my car off of the estate. But he must have either done that, just to see if he could, or he went and rented a car exactly like the one I’m currently using. If that’s the case, he probably has plans to race me in his. Competitive idiot.

  I have to make a quick decision on how to answer this. I go with the second theory, hoping it’s the right one. “It wasn’t my car. He just liked mine so much, that he went and got one of his own.”

  Gabriel looks skeptical, standing almost toe to toe with me now. “Your parents must pay their bodyguards well, that car costs over $450,000.” As if I don’t know that, silly boy.

  “They sure do. Dependable, trustworthy employees are hard to find,” I tell him, latching on to the explanation he gave me an opening for. Even so, lame answers seem to be my forte tonight.

  Standing in front of me, staring at my face, as if searching it for the truth, he reminds me of Jackson earlier. He cannot read your mind, Annabelle, and you are a professional, so you better damn well start acting like it! After a long moment, he takes a deep breath and pulls me into his arms. “I’m sorry for being a spaz. I was just worried about you, baby. When I saw him practically drag you out of there, I thought he might hurt you. Bodyguard or not, I’ll probably kick his ass for it the next time I see him.”

  “I’m sorry you were worried. I should have called you, but when I got back here, I wasn’t feeling well from the drinks and just wanted to take a shower and lay down.” I kiss him softly on the cheek, knowing how it always softens him.

  “Why didn’t you answer your phone?” he squeezes me gently.

  “I turned it off earlier tonight while we were at the club. I was just about to call you.” I pray to god that my phone doesn’t start ringing.

  Max finally speaks up, “Um, Gabriel? Do you need a ride home? ‘Cause if not, I’m gonna head out.” Damn, I hope I didn’t ruin Max’s night. That hooker nurse seemed like a sure thing.

  Gabriel looks at me, whispering so Max can’t hear, “After what I’ve gone through in the past hour, I need to hold you tonight. I think I’ll stay the night here, or we could go to my house if you want?”

  I don’t know if I want to be at Gabriel’s house, with his dad there or if I want to stay here, with Jackson here. “Let’s go to your house. Just give me a minute to get dressed and pack a bag.”

  “Okay, baby.” Giving me one more squeeze, he releases me and waits in the living room with Max.

  Even though I’ll be staying at Gabriel’s house tonight and will probably have another opportunity to kill Xavier, I know that I won’t go through with it yet. Because I also need Gabriel to hold me tonight.

  Chapter 11

  Gabriel

  Leaving Anna’s hotel, Max drops us off at my house. Anna’s car is sti
ll parked in the driveway, so I guess that Russian jerk really does have the same car. She explained to me why he pulled her out of the club, but something still doesn’t feel right about it. Anna’s entitled to her secrets, but at some point I hope that she trusts me enough to divulge a few. Maybe she just needs to be softened up a bit. If I show her how much she means to me maybe she’ll open up. It seems logical enough.

  Once we’re in my room with the door locked, she goes into my bathroom and comes back out wearing thin cotton pajamas. She plops down on my bed and I go into the bathroom to get ready for bed myself. When I come out, she’s under the covers and lying on her side. I walk over and see that her eyes are closed. Brushing the back of my fingers over her cheek, I ask quietly, “Are you asleep, Anna?”

  She opens her eyes, rolling over onto her back. “Not yet.”

  I grab her hand and kiss it, rubbing my thumb over her knuckle. “I’m going to cook you dinner tomorrow at my parents’ beach house.”

  She gives me a small smile. I’m not sure if I imagine the sadness in it or if it’s the play of shadows on her face from the muted lighting. “That sounds nice. Although I would be just as happy with the fast food we sometimes eat. I wasn’t allowed to eat it growing up, too unhealthy.”

  “My cooking is better,” I brag.

  “Okay.” She shuts her eyes and I lay down next to her with one arm draped over her. When she starts breathing deeply I know she’s asleep. I think a romantic dinner is a good start in encouraging Anna to open up. Drifting off to sleep, I plan out the meal I’ll make tomorrow.

  We wake up the next day a little after noon. After dropping Anna off at her hotel, I go grocery shopping. I used to hang out in the kitchen with our chef when I was younger, before I had better things to do, but I did pick up some cooking knowledge. Getting back to my house, I climb the basement stairs down to the wine cellar and pick a bottle out of my dad’s supply. Later, up in my room I take a shower and put on a nice button-down shirt and dark jeans. Looking for my mom afterwards, I find her alone on the back patio, staring out at the pool with an open book face down in her lap.