Young Love Murder

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Young Love Murder Page 11

by April Brookshire


  “Hey mom, where’s dad?”

  Her sad look answers before her words, “He left already, business in South America.”

  I feel awkward, never knowing whether or not to comfort her when she gets morose over his travels. He’s never home, but she still loves him. That’s dedication. I’m not so sure I’d have that kind of undying devotion to someone who didn’t reciprocate it. “Well, I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be staying at the beach house tonight.”

  She still looks lost in her own thoughts while she replies, “Okay sweetie, have fun.”

  I give her a quick peck on her sun warmed cheek and say, “I love you, mom,” to cheer her up. My next destination is the kitchen. I grab the grocery bags from the fridge and put them in the backseat of my car. After I pull out of the gate I call Anna. She picks up on the third ring. “Hey babe, I’m on my way to pick you up.”

  “Okay, I’ll meet you out front.” She hangs up without saying goodbye. Guess she’s as excited as I am. Maybe tonight, if she’s ready . . . .

  Arriving at the hotel, I pull up in front of the lobby doors where she’s sitting on a bench with a duffel bag on her lap. She bounces over to the car, getting in with a bright smile. I’m glad to see that she’s as excited about tonight as I am. As she’s buckling up, I ask, “Have your parents found a place yet?”

  She glances at me then away. “Not yet, but I think they’re narrowing it down.”

  “I hope they buy a house near mine.” I grab her left hand and kiss it, holding it in mine for a few seconds before releasing it to put the car into gear.

  “Yeah, that’d be great,” she mumbles, still not looking at me.

  When we get to the beach house she offers to help carry the bags, but I just hand her the keys and ask her to unlock the front door. I follow her inside, asking, “So, what do you think?”

  She looks around the modernly furnished beach house. In the center of the living room is a u-shaped couch in taupe suede and a chrome and glass coffee table. The couch faces a fifty inch flat screen with a gaming and home theatre system. “It’s nice,” she answers while looking out the large windows behind the couch that give a view of the beach.

  “Yeah it is. Although, if I bought a beach house, I would skip the contemporary look and go with a more traditional one,” I say over my shoulder while carrying the grocery bags to the kitchen.

  “Me too. I have a small house on the beach in Italy. I mean, my parents do. It’s decorated very traditionally.” She follows me into the kitchen, done in stainless steel and maple wood, with a marble breakfast bar and countertops. The dining room table, also chrome and glass, sits in front of the sliding patio doors leading out onto the deck.

  Giving her a tour, I show her down a hall that leads to two of the four bedrooms that surround the enclosed courtyard, with a tile pool built into the center. Each bedroom has French doors opening into the pool area for easy access.

  “That’s pretty,” Anna comments about the large stone wall fountain that sits against the wall built to provide privacy from beach goers. It’s kind of cool, I guess. Surrounding the fountain are tons of lush vines, orchids, bird of paradise flowers and Stargazer lilies. I remember how excited my mom was to decorate inside and out when they bought the place years ago. I helped the gardener plant the flowers while my mom was busy with decorating the inside. Like the inside of the house, the color scheme of the flowers is soothing creams, oranges, and yellows, giving the feeling of summer year round. At least that’s what I remember the gardener saying at the time. Weird, I never really cared much for the details of the house, not until meeting Anna and wanting her to like it.

  Over the next hour, as I prepare grilled chicken Marsala with fresh green beans and red roasted potatoes, to be complemented by a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc, she watches me while we chat about school, music and movies. While she knows a lot of different types of music and recording artists, I’m surprised there are so many good movies she hasn’t seen. In time, I’ll show all my favorites to her. What's she been doing with her free time in the past? Maybe I don’t want to know.

  After dinner she says, “That was really good. Thank you, Gabriel.”

  Getting up, I walk over to where she’s seated. “Do you want to go swimming?”

  “Yes.” She smiles at the idea and I show her to a bedroom where she can change into a swimsuit. I put on blue swim trunks in another room, thinking about her being naked just twenty feet away. Once ready, I wait for her out on the back deck facing the beach. A few minutes later, she joins me on the deck, wearing a black one-piece suit. The entire middle of the suit is made of a mesh material that reveals glimpses of her flat belly and curvaceous hips through the swirling pattern. The suit is held in place with a tie at her neck and back, exposing the long line of her spine all the way down to the small of her back and little bottom of her swimsuit. I devour her with my eyes, wanting to devour her with more. “You look gorgeous.”

  My eyes travel up to her face to see her smirking, obviously pleased with my appraisal. “So do you.”

  With a mischievous smile, she jumps off the deck into the sand and starts running towards the sparkling water. I actually have to make an effort to catch up with her, fast as she is. We both splash into the water and she dives under for a long time. I’m starting to get worried, until I feel something tugging at my shorts. Either a sea creature is getting frisky with me, or that’s Anna. She slips them off of me, not that I put up much of a fight, and I dive under the water to look for her. It’s impossible to see in the murky water so I shoot back up to the surface. How the hell did she get my shorts off under there?

  As I’m breaking the surface I hear, “Look what I have!”

  I turn in the direction of her teasing voice and see that she’s holding up my shorts in the air. “How did you stay underwater for so long?”

  She laughs. I’ll never get tired of that sound. “My Uncle Simon taught me.”

  This is the first I’ve heard her talk of an Uncle Simon. She usually changes the subject when I bring up her family. I start swimming towards her but she keeps dodging me. She’s too fast a swimmer for me, and I grew up going to the beach regularly. She goes underwater again and I can feel her putting my shorts back on me. Wow, I’ve been turned on by a girl taking my clothes off, but this is the first time that I’m turned on by a girl putting them back on. Not that the girls ever dress me afterwards.

  Before she can get away again, I reach my hands down into the water and pull her up against me. Pieces of her wet hair are plastered to her face. She floats up against me while I smooth her hair back.

  “My turn.” I grin diabolically, satisfied when her eyes widen.

  I make a grab for one of the two ties keeping the top of her suit in place, but she quickly places the bottom of her feet against my chest and pushes backwards, away from me in a somersault-like motion. Once she’s several yards away from me, she yells with laughter in her voice, “Only if you can catch me!” Little tease.

  I try to catch her, believe me I do, but she’s like a freaking mermaid in the water. Finally, I give up and float on my back, frustrated and defeated.

  “Oh, poor baby can’t catch me,” she taunts. “How about I make it easier for you?”

  With renewed interest in the game, I get upright in the water just in time to see her wet form leaving it and running up to the house. The sun is setting, so it’s probably a good time to leave the water anyways. Swimming to shore, I chase after her. Once I’m in the house she’s nowhere in sight. “Anna! I’m gonna find you!”

  “I’m counting on it!” Her shouted reply comes from one of the bedrooms.

  I grin and check the first room, she isn’t there. When I get to the second, I find her leaning back on the bed, still only in the swimsuit that covers yet reveals so much at the same time, sand on her soles. God, this is better than when my dad gave me my Ferrari!

  “Hola belleza.” I lean on the bed, hovering over her, holding myself up with my ha
nds placed on either side of her head.

  She looks up at me questioningly, but gives me an impish smile. “Hola handsome.”

  I close the rest of the distance between our mouths and kiss her passionately. The usual sparks fly behind my eyes, accompanied by the drug-like quality of her kisses. She wraps her arms around the back of my neck and pulls me down on top of her. Pulling one of her legs up, I wrap it around my waist. She wraps the other around me on her own. I start to tug on the tie at her neck. She doesn’t protest, helping me untie it and the one in the center of her back. Pulling back, I look down at her. She bites her bottom lip and peels the swimsuit off completely then lays back against the pillows.

  God damn. “You are so perfect,” I murmur. Opening the nightstand, I grab a condom, taking off my shorts and laying on the bed by her side. She has a look on her face that I’ve never seen before, vulnerable. Anna never looks vulnerable. I reach out and touch her face. “You have done this before, right?”

  “No,” she says softly, again chewing on her bottom lip.

  Holy shit! “I thought you said you did.”

  “No I didn’t. I asked you if you’d believe that I was a virgin and you said ‘No’.” She touches my shoulder. “Hey, it’s alright. I know a Madam in Paris who taught me everything there is to know.”

  “Everything?” I ask in disbelief. “Someday, you’re going to tell me your life story, because some of the things you say make me wonder . . . .”

  A strange looks flashes over her face, but before I can question it she pulls me down for another kiss. Liking her aggressiveness, I cup one of her breasts, flicking my thumb. She moans and the next few minutes are filled with us touching each other with our hands and mouths. Some odd feeling runs through me, something I’ve never felt before during sex. It takes a moment for me to put a name to it. Reverence?

  I skim my right hand down over her toned stomach and rub her between her legs, making sure she’s ready. When I feel that she is, I place butterfly kisses on her neck, her eyelids and her mouth. “Ready, baby?”

  She groans out, “Hurry.”

  I laugh and, sliding on the condom, position myself. With some apprehension, I tell her, “This will probably hurt.”

  She places her palm over my cheek, her eyes shining with unexpected humor. “Don’t worry, Gabriel, I can take it.”

  Slowly pushing inside, groaning, I don’t move at first. “Oh my god, Anna, you feel . . . .”

  She places a series of kisses on my neck. “So do you, Gabriel.” Holding her in my arms like this, it’s amazing.

  I begin slowly, afraid of hurting her, but instinct has her responding faster than I’d imagined. Guess she does know what she’s doing. She digs her nails into my back as I increase my speed. A minute or two later, she’s climaxing and I’m doing my best to enhance it for her. As she’s moaning, I kiss her cheeks and forehead, reveling in it, reveling in her. As she begins to tumble into another one, with her beautiful eyes half-closed, I follow her over the edge into a blinding climax of my own.

  Staring down at her, with her wet hair smelling of the ocean and make-up free beauty, I can’t hold back my feelings. “I love you, Anna.”

  Her big brown eyes go wide, but she doesn’t say it back. Instead, she holds me tightly and whispers my name. My stomach drops and I move away from her and off the bed. After cleaning up, I lay on my back, pulling her against me. She still doesn’t say anything about my declaration of love. I don’t want an awkward silence after making love with her for the first time. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.” She lifts her head off my chest smiling up at me in satisfaction. “I’m better than okay.”

  She still hasn’t responded to me saying ‘I love you’, so I figure she just needs more time. It doesn’t bother me because I know she feels the same way. Maybe she’s just having trouble saying it back. Making a sound of content, she starts kissing my chest. “Anna, what are you doing?”

  “Taking my turn.” I can feel her smile against my skin.

  “Aren’t you sore? Don’t you need time to recuperate?” I ask skeptically, not having a whole lot of experience with virgins.

  “No. Do you, Gabriel?” The movements of her hands have me more than recuperated.

  “Not if you don’t.” I start to sit up, but she pushes me back down with a hand on my shoulder.

  “I said it was my turn.” She straddles me. Oh hell. I need to find out the name of that Madam in Paris and write her a nice long thank you note.

  We make love again and this time I only repeat ‘I love you’ in my head.

  Chapter 12

  Annabelle

  Stupid Annabelle. What was I thinking? Obviously not with my brain. But, really? Sleeping with the target’s son? This isn’t how I operate. Sloppy Annabelle. But it’s Gabriel! My heart tries to argue with my head. I gave too much of myself to Gabriel. Secrets. Love. My Virginity! I may not have spoken the words to him, but I do love him, more than he’ll ever know.

  Gabriel’s my angel, everything good in this world. Unfortunately, I kill the bad things, having no time left for the good. There’s no place in my world for him and I don’t belong in his world. My world is filled with predators, suffering, drugs, rape and murder. His world is hanging out with friends, going to the movies, eventually graduating and going to college. Dating normal girls, whom I now despise! College isn’t in the cards for me, unless I ever get a contract involving a college student or professor.

  It’s the middle of the night and Gabriel is sound asleep next to me. The room is lit only by the moonlight coming in through the open curtains. The open window is letting in the cool October air, but the comforter cocooning us together holds back the chill. I brush back the hair that’s fallen on his forehead. He’s so handsome. I don’t think I’ll ever love any man the way I do him. It’s time to distance yourself from the situation, Annabelle.

  I slowly get out of bed and get dressed. Grabbing my things, I step out onto the front porch and call Jackson on my cell. He answers with a groggy, “Sup?”

  “Come pick me up,” I say softly into the phone.

  “Has something happened?” he asks, sounding more awake.

  “Not really. Come get me at the Sanchez beach house.” I hang up before he can question me further and sit down on the steps.

  Well, mission halfway accomplished. I have Xavier Sanchez’s son wrapped around my finger. I can get access to the Sanchez home at any time. Too bad he almost has me wrapped around his finger too. It was necessary for him to fall for me. However, it was not necessary for me to fall for him. It was definitely not necessary for me to have sex with him. But berating myself will do no good. Action is required. Although, I’m glad my first time was with someone I care about. Everything else I’ve told Gabriel is a lie but my feelings aren’t. Well, most of them aren’t.

  I would die for him. I would kill for him. Of course, that’s not saying much coming from me. If he knew who I really was would he still love me? I know he definitely wouldn’t love me if he knew that I was sent to kill his father. He said he loved me. No one has ever said that besides Jackson. I know my parents loved me, though. I wish I could remember them. I wish I could remember them telling me that they loved me. I’ll always remember tonight, Gabriel telling me those sweet words. He could never understand how much that means to me, how much it’s going to hurt to walk away.

  When Jackson shows up, I get in the car and don’t say a word. I'm not in the mood to talk to anyone. “Well?” he prompts.

  “Well what?” I ask belligerently, finally meeting his gaze.

  “Holy crap, Annie! You didn’t!” he yells at me.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Stubbornly, I look out my window, trying to ignore him. How the hell did he guess?

  “You had sex with him, didn’t you?” Something in his voice warns me that he’s angry.

  I still refuse to look at him. “That’s none of your business.”

  “I’ve been killing
people for years, but this is the first time that I’ve ever wanted to murder someone for personal reasons,” Jackson growls through clenched teeth.

  I whip my head around to glare at him. “Don’t you ever touch him! Promise me, Jackson! Promise you won’t ever hurt him!” My tone warns him that there’s only one answer he can give, or there’ll be hell to pay.

  “Fine, chill out! I won’t hurt your little boyfriend,” Jackson responds. He adds, “But I’ll fantasize about it.” His smile is more of a baring of teeth. It doesn’t give me an ounce of comfort.

  “Jackson,” I warn slowly.

  “Hey, it’s a big brother’s job to be upset about these things. I’m just trying to give you a little normalcy here, baby sis,” he teases and I can tell that he’s starting to calm down.

  “Besides,” I tell him, “I think that if Gabriel had a big brother, he should be the one upset. Gabriel is just an innocent teenage boy. I’m the predator.”

  Jackson laughs humorlessly. “It’s not like it was his first time. I read the file too-”

  “Whatever! We’re done talking about it!” I cut him off.

  “One more thing, Annie. What’s he going to think about you sneaking off in the middle of the night?”

  Gabriel

  I wake up with a smile on my face. Last night was awesome. Anna was awesome. Reaching out with eyes half-opened, she isn’t lying next to me, so I pull myself out of bed to walk around the beach house looking for her. When I don’t find her, I walk out to the beach to see if she went for a morning swim. When she isn't out there either, I start to get worried.

  In the bedroom I find her stuff missing. “What the hell?” Muttering, I grab my phone and call her. She doesn’t answer, so I text her.

  Where are you?

  I sit on the edge of the bed, waiting for her to text me back. After ten minutes I give up and take a shower. Getting out of the shower, I sit on the bed in a towel and check my phone again. Still no text message or return call. Grabbing my bag to get dressed, I leave the beach house, needing to see Anna and find out what’s going on. I drive towards her hotel, sending another text.

 

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