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Assassin

Page 8

by Seiters, Nadene


  “I’m careful. I don’t bring my work home like Dad used to. Besides, I’m in too deep now, Livvy. They’re not going to let me go.” He looks at his sister to see if there’s any chance she’ll sway from her resolve, but her eyes are as hard as his. She’s not going to back down over this, which means he’ll never get to see Lilly again. “Fine, I’ll quit. I’ll tell them it’s all over, but we’ll need to disappear.”

  She shakes her head at him and rolls her eyes to the ceiling as she crosses her arms over her chest. It’s the classic ‘I’m not listening to you right now, Robert’ look she’s always gotten on her face when he’s tried to tell her what to do. She’s stubborn that way, and he loves her for it. But it’s going to get her killed.

  “I can’t just up and leave! Lilly has school, and I’ve found a job finally!” She pushes her blonde hair back from her forehead with a shaking hand and looks at the kitchen door that leads to outside. “I think you should go. It’s too late. I’ve made my decision.” Her tone tells him that she’s serious, and he realizes that right now he can’t sway her. So he sucks up all the anger and hatred he’s feeling towards her, plasters a sick smile on his face, and walks out of his sister’s house. It’s the last time he ever saw her alive.

  “Troy?” He wakes with a start and flinches away from her hand at first until he realizes whose it is.

  “Cassidy, what’s wrong?” Her eyes are wide, and the foal is quivering on the other side of the stall, as far from him as it can get. He looks down at the fists on his thighs and lets out a sigh of frustration. If he hadn’t fallen asleep, this wouldn’t be happening.

  “You were dreaming. Do you want to tell me about it?” Her hand is still warm on his shoulder through the gray shirt he’s wearing, and it’s distracting him from what she’s actually saying.

  “No,” he pulls away from her hand to give himself the ability to think again. She doesn’t follow him as he retreats to the outside of the barn into the early morning air. It’s crisper than it was the night before, and the sound of insects has ceased. The living room light is no longer on tonight, but Troy knows that Grant is still listening. The old man doesn’t trust him. Hell, Troy doesn’t trust himself around Cassidy Grant.

  He leans his forehead against the outside wall of the barn with his hands next to his head, almost in the position he was arrested in. Troy grits his teeth together as he tries to think of anything but his sister’s death and the mess that ensued. Images flash by at record speed as he searches for a memory that doesn’t involve them or death. When he finally realizes that his life was nothing but his family or his job, he feels the weight crushing down on him.

  “Troy?” He doesn’t want to hear that name, or his real name. He just wants everyone to stop looking at him for just a few heartbeats. In two weeks will be the trial, and he’ll be called in to testify. Just two more weeks of holding Cassidy at arm’s length, and then he’ll be shipped off to a more permanent location.

  “I’m fine, go back in and feed Reese’s Pieces. I’ll be in soon. I’ve gotta take a piss.” He lies smoothly as he pushes off the side of the barn and marches towards the trees. Just in case he’s telling the truth, Cassidy doesn’t follow him.

  Chapter Six

  “Let go of my shirt, you little shit!” Troy pulls away from the horse’s teeth and jumps out of the way, dodging this way and that and taking off. Reese keeps up with him easily, and looks over at him to see why he’s running so slowly. “I’m human, kid, I don’t run very fast.” His hand comes down on the foal’s nose,and he marvels at how much Reese has grown in just seven days. They still have to stay up at night with him, but it’s gotten easier now that they’re on a schedule.

  Troy takes care of the foal in the morning and into the afternoon while Cassidy gets some sleep. Then she takes care of the foal as Troy gets his chores done and lies down for about six hours. At which point they both attempt to make it through the night without any awkward encounters or discussions. For the past three nights, they’ve been dodging each other’s gazes.

  “Soon he’s going to weigh more than you, and you won’t want him doing that!” Grant looks disapproving over Reese’s training, but he’s just too fun to play with. Troy flicks a fly off the erect ear that points towards Grant, and ignores the old man’s words.

  “Do you need to go to the feed store today?” He asks casually. Troy’s gaze stays on the pasture ahead of him with the adult horses grazing in the distance. The foal has tried a few times to interact with the adults, but he’s just not ready yet. Lightning about tried to take his head off yesterday because the foal was looking for a tit.

  At first Troy had felt fear, but after he realized that Reese’s Pieces was not injured, he had himself a good laugh. Cassidy had laughed, too, when he told her after her nap. Grant had seemed perturbed by the horse’s behavior and his social development, but Cassidy assured him that she would keep pushing him to take to the other horses.

  “I’m heading out right now. I just wanted to let you know.” Troy puts a hand on Reese’s back and finally looks over at Grant’s expressionless face.

  “Do you want me to come with? I’m sure Reese can handle things on his own for an hour in his stall, or I could wake up Cassidy.” Grant’s already shaking his head before Troy can finish and glances at the trees beyond the pasture.

  “No, she needs her rest and Reese needs his formula. Just try not to get into any trouble while I’m gone.” Troy finally looks over at the man who trusts him so much with his daughter, and tries not to think about breaking that trust. Grant gives him a hesitant smile that lasts a fraction of a second and turns to leave.

  “I’ll see you when you get back.” Troy says as he continues to look out at the adult horses. Reese’s Pieces nibbles at the hem of his shirt and butts his head up against Troy’s chest for attention. In return, Troy idly runs a hand up and down the foal’s face, and gives a decent scratch behind the ears as if he’s petting a dog. The foal’s gained a substantial amount of weight, and he eats a little less often each hour, but he’s still fed small amounts every hour.

  Troy takes him back to the stall for the next feeding. He hears Grant’s truck start and waits for the sound of the tires heading down the dirt road to fade before he heads into the house to get the foal’s formula. Reese’s Pieces tries to follow him, but he gently closes the stall door and leaves the foal to his own devices.

  He tries to close the front door gently so as not to wake up Cassidy, who is currently spread out across the living room couch snoring as if there’s no tomorrow. Troy pulls the powder from the refrigerator and begins to follow the instructions as quietly as possible, but when he turns off the sink water, he hears that Cassidy has stopped snoring. She’s sitting up on the couch rubbing at her eyes and trying to push her hair back into place.

  “You have another three hours, go back to sleep.” Cassidy’s sleepy face finally turns towards him, and she smiles at him as she stretches. His mouth goes dry at her shirt lifts up to reveal her flat abdomen and the V-neck bunches with her cleavage. What I wouldn’t give to-

  Shocked by the thought, Troy immediately turns back to the formula bottle and successfully blocks the rest of that thought from forming. He shakes the bottle vigorously to make sure everything is mixed evenly, and retreats from the house like the hounds of Hell are on his heels. Reese’s Pieces is anxious by the time his adopted father returns and Troy has effectively forgotten about his reaction to Cassidy when the bottle is emptied.

  He pats the foal once before he stops outside the barn on his way back to the house. His nose rises into the air as his face turns upward, and he closes his eyes as he smells the first hints of autumn. Unbeknownst to him, Cassidy is watching the way he stands from his bedroom window. She takes a step back when he opens his eyes and retreats into the bathroom to shower quickly. This room used to be hers, and she’s much more used to this shower than her father’s bathroom.

  Troy sets the bottle by the sink and crosses his arms a
s he waits for the sound of water to cease. When it finally does, he rinses out the bottle with hot water and wonders what his bathroom smells like. The thought has about a half a second to percolate in his mind before he tries to shut it off, but it’s like a fire hydrant now.

  It’s normal. I’ve been spending so much time with her that I’m bound to start thinking about her at some point. Just because I think about it doesn’t mean I have to act on it. Troy snorts at that thought and tries to tell the hard-on in his pants the same thing. It’s not helping.

  What does help is the sound of Grant’s trucking pulling up in the driveway. Troy takes in a deep breath and stuffs down his thoughts of the man’s daughter. It’s well past noon now, so Troy grabs yogurt from the refrigerator and marvels at the amount in there. At some point, Cassidy’s been stocking up. It seems she’s realized the blueberry is his favorite, and there’s a group at the back separated from the rest. They’re all blueberry.

  Unable to help the small smile, Troy closes the refrigerator door and makes himself comfortable at the table. Grant looks worried when he walks through the door, but he seems relieved when he sees Troy sitting dressed fully at his kitchen table. The relief is short-lived as Cassidy comes bounding down the steps, freshly showered, in a bath robe. She smiles at her father as if this is an everyday occurrence, and pulls out her own personal favorite, strawberry yogurt, from the fridge.

  “Would you mind helping me with the feed bags, Troy?” Grant masks his worry at his daughter’s unabashed flaunting of her long legs.

  “Sure, you got Reese’s Pieces, then?” The last part of his sentence is directed at Cassidy, but he doesn’t look at her. He has a feeling that Grant will be talking to his daughter about appropriate dress in front of the guests later on when Troy is sleeping.

  Once outside, Grant’s shoulders relax, and he pulls the truck up to the barn door. The horses are still in the pasture, so it’s only Reese’s Pieces who whinnies at the sound. Grant’s silent for the first half of the load that they carry in through the doors. Then he finally speaks up.

  “Cassidy is awfully casual around you.” It’s one of the strangest things that a father has ever said to Troy, but he supposes it’s warranted. Although, may hap if he had been around more women’s fathers, he would hear the same remark.

  “I’m not pursuing her, Grant.” Troy grunts as he grabs a bag and heaves it over his shoulder. His footsteps are light as he makes his way back to the tack room where the feed is stored.

  “I know,” There’s a ‘but’ at the end of that sentence, yet Troy doesn’t ask him to go on. Cassidy wanders out with another bottle of formula by the time they’re finished stacking feed, and Troy is beginning to feel the effects of not sleeping enough lately. He doesn’t say another word to either of them as he tromps up to the house, pulls off his boots, and heads upstairs to shower.

  He was right. It smells like Cassidy in his bathroom, and his bedroom. Ignoring how much that scent makes him feel relaxed, Troy hops into a cold, cold shower that should help him soften in other areas. It doesn’t. He falls asleep with one arm tossed over his eyes as he tries to think of anything but her scent.

  * * *

  The temperature in the room is met to be freezing to make the person within uncomfortable, but for Troy it makes him feel right at home. The room feels just how his insides feel at the moment, and the police officer across from him is the one who is uncomfortable. Officer Link flips through a manila envelope with pictures in it, ones that Troy doesn’t want to see. Yet the officer turns them and waits patiently for Troy to look down.

  Her blonde hair is splayed out around her, and her eyes are wide with fear. There’s a tear trail down her cheek still, and her lips are parted as if she’s about to sob. A six year old little girl should never look like that. Troy feels the muscle in his jaw twitching with his rage, but it’s the only visible sign that this photograph has bothered him. The officer notices.

  “You know, she probably died thinking someone would rescue her before it was over. Poor kid.” The photograph is flipped over so that a more gruesome one can be revealed.

  They sent a stone killer. This was personal.

  Olivia’s hazel eyes are staring at nothing in particular, but they’re afraid even in death. Her jaw is slack because it was broken, and her own blonde hair is in a disheveled bun. Troy can’t help it. He looks away from the photograph to swallow the lump in his throat. It’s not a lump forming because of tears, but a lump that is his outraged cry.

  “They took off three of her fingernails before they killed her Robert. I assume after three she told them where you live. Perhaps the broken jaw was for dishonoring her own family. You know how those sickos are. They’re still finishing up the rape kit to see if she was assaulted. Do you think they assaulted her, Robert?” One finger twitches at the word rape and Troy begins to see colors in front of his vision. It’s so difficult to keep in this seething hatred; even though he’s managed to keep his emotions veiled most of his life.

  The ones who did this wanted him to see the bodies, and they wanted him to be sitting in this chair. Whoever committed this heinous crime probably is someone like him, a killer for hire. Except this killer was hired to figure out his whereabouts by any means possible, and kill him. Did they really think the cops would think Troy did this?

  “I don’t think they assaulted her, but if you’re trying to get me to talk, there’s no need for this. I’ve already agreed to tell you everything I know.” The officer’s smirk makes his skin grow colder than the air around him. Troy keeps his face expressionless, but he’s imaging pulling off this man’s fingernails and plucking out his eyes slowly, very slowly.

  “Oh, I know. I just wanted to remind you why you’re here in case you got the urge to keep something to yourself. The deal is, you testify in court when we need you, and we’ll make sure whoever did this to your family doesn’t find you.” The man makes it sound like Troy cares about his own life in this moment, but he’d trade places with Lilly and Olivia any day.

  “I don’t care about that, but if you want answers I guess I have to be alive. So I’ll join the witness protection program for as long as it’s necessary. Then I’ll disappear on my own after this is all over, deal?” The officer closes up the manila envelope and looks at the thick glass. Without another word, he stands up, and waltzes from the room like their discussion never took place.

  Knowing that there is someone behind the glass, Troy doesn’t move an inch. He keeps his leg from twitching, checks the twitch in his jaw so that it stops, and stares at the table in front of him. The cuffs keeping him rooted to the floor and weighing his wrists down make him feel like an animal in a zoo.

  * * *

  This time he doesn’t wake up with a sheen of sweat on his body, but he is breathing heavily. Rolling over so that he can see what time it is, Troy curses under his breath when he realizes that he missed dinner, and he also missed Cassidy bickering with her father over the answers to Jeopardy. Getting dressed takes him only a few minutes, and as he’s heading down the steps he’s pulling on his t-shirt over his bulky frame. Grant catches him at the bottom of the stairs at the last second.

  “Heading out?” He asks sleepily.

  “Yeah, Cassidy’s already out there?” Grant just nods and pats Troy on the back as he meanders up the rest of the steps. The old man looks zonked after a day of loading and unloading feed bags. He looks as if he’s starting to get too old for this sort of work.

  Before he heads out, Troy grabs a fresh bottle of formula for the foal and slips on his dirty boots on the front porch. The cool air feels good on his flesh, but he figures it’s going to be too cold tonight for the foal to be without a blanket. So he stops by the tack room to grab something to put over the young horse, and shuffles into the stall with his supplies.

  Reese’s Pieces is standing in the corner with a sour look on his face, and Cassidy is nowhere to be seen. Confused, Troy puts the blanket over the foal and feeds him half the bo
ttle before he sets it down to find Cassidy. It’s been five minutes already, and she should have been back by now. Worried about her well-being, Troy starts by glancing out at the pasture.

  “Cassidy?” He calls softly so that he doesn’t disturb the other horses, but she doesn’t answer.

  Frustrated with her lack of response, Troy begins to glance in the stalls. Beethoven stomps a hoof in warning and Hannah’s horse, Violet, whinnies quietly. She’s not on the lower level of the barn, so Troy starts exploring the hayloft, where he spots a light coming from the back corner. Relieved that she’s still on the property, Troy creeps through the hay to find her sitting with her laptop open and ear buds in.

  When she glances up and quivers all over at seeing someone towering over her on top of the hay bales, Troy can’t help the wicked grin that spreads across his face. Cassidy tries to hide the fact that she jumped by slowly pulling out the ear buds and gently closing the laptop lid.

  “Troy, I didn’t see you there.” She must have spent all that time composing her voice so that it wouldn’t squeak when she spoke.

  “Obviously,” he slides down beside her and leans over to open up the laptop lid, but she keeps a firm hand on it. “What are you doing up here?” Her gaze looks troubled, so Troy takes his hand off the laptop and leans away. He’s suddenly aware of how close he was to her, and it felt as if he belonged in her personal space.

  That’s dangerous thinking, Ro-I mean Troy.

  “I was watching a movie down here so that Reese’s Pieces could get some sleep in between feedings. I didn’t want to fall asleep, but sitting down there with nothing to do was getting awfully boring.” Troy pulls up one leg so that he can rest his elbow on his knee, puts his cheek on his fist, and stares at her with a quirked eyebrow.

 

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