The Accidental Assassin (Assassins #1)

by Nichole Chase

  The bathroom door cracked open and I realized I had been staring off into space. Ava leaned against the doorframe in nothing but the oversized shirt and I felt the blood drain from my head and head south. I hadn’t thought to buy her shorts or sleeping pants and I’d never been so glad I had overlooked something. Her long legs went on forever and the image of them being wrapped around me burst into my brain.

  “Who gets the bed?” She brushed her wet hair over her shoulder and I had to force myself to ignore the way the damp material clung to her breasts.

  “There’s enough space for two.” I smiled at her dubious expression. “I’ll behave if you do.”

  “Shouldn’t someone stand guard?” Her eyes darted to the door and I realized she was genuinely nervous about being caught while sleeping. I moved to the door and slid the old dresser across the floor. I looked back at her to see if that helped but she had moved across the room. I watched as she picked up one of the chairs and carried it across the room. The t-shirt slid up a little higher as she made her way to me and I had to remind myself that she was vulnerable right now. I moved so she could place the chair where she wanted.

  Knowing that someone might bust in on you while you were sleeping was part of the job. After a while you learn how to accept it. You take precautions, like picking a secure location, keeping your gun close, and learning to sleep lightly. Ava wasn’t used to that and she’d been put through the ringer in the last few days. So, instead of mocking her, or explaining that I’d chosen this inn because of where it was located and how we’d be able to defend ourselves, I moved the other chair to the growing pile of furniture. I unplugged the tele and set it atop the bureau.

  Ava grabbed one of the lamps we were using and placed it so it was leaning against the door. The dingy crystals swayed for a moment and I realized she was using it as an alarm. Not a bad idea. The jingle would serve as an early detection sound if someone was messing with the door.

  “You think I’m silly.” Her mouth pulled to the side and she looked at me with large eyes. “But I know that if someone really wants in, this isn’t going to stop them.”

  “It will slow them down.” I pulled my shirt off and made my way to the bed. I sat down on the edge of the bed closest to the door and undid the clasp on my watch.

  Ava hadn’t come to the bed. She was standing next to the leaning tower of furniture and watching me. Her cheek ticked nervously and I fought my smile. That’s right. I wasn’t the only one feeling the sexual tension. I swung my legs onto the bed and tucked my hands behind my head.

  “Scared you won’t be able to control yourself?” I patted the other side of the bed. A blush crawled out of the neck line of her shirt and up to her cheeks. She sputtered and her back stiffened, which is exactly what I had been going for.

  “Listen here, buddy. You’re no Brad Pitt.” Stomping across the room, she ripped the blanket back from the bed and crawled into her spot. “Don’t try anything funny.”

  “I’ll try to contain my baser urges.” I hit the switch for the light and settled down into my pillow.

  Ava fought with her pillow until she had molded it into a shape that suited her. She was on her side facing me. I could just make out her features in the dark and smell the shampoo she had used in the shower. It had been years since I had slept in the same bed as someone else, but with Ava I didn’t worry she would get up and kill me in my sleep.

  It was a nice feeling.

  “Owen?” Her whisper drew me out of my thoughts.

  “Yeah?”

  “Thank you for not leaving me.” I could barely make out her words as weariness claimed her.

  “You’re welcome.”

  COLD AIR CURLED over the skin of my thigh and I snuggled closer to the heat next to me. A soft snore invaded my dreams and I grunted in annoyance. The warm pillow under my head moved, turning me over so I was on my back and immediately yanking me out of my dreams. As my eyes adjusted to the early morning light that poured in around the curtains, Owen rolled into me.

  “What the—?” I started to push him away, but his hands closed on my wrists and lifted them above my head.

  “It’s been a long time since I woke up next to someone.” His voice sent goosebumps over my skin and I froze. One of his legs rested between mine and every movement made it deliciously clear how much he enjoyed having a bedmate. “I’m not used to it.”

  “Wh-why is that?” His lips were so close to mine I couldn’t focus on anything else. Flashes of our kiss from the night before ran through my mind.

  “Trust.” He leaned a little closer, his lips almost touching mine. “Can’t sleep next to someone who might kill you.”

  “That would be difficult.” I licked my lips and tried to calm my racing heart.

  “But not with you, love.” He let go of one of my wrists to run a finger along my jaw. “You’re not going to kill me in my sleep.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “It’s in your eyes.” His eyes dipped down to my lips. “The eyes never lie.”

  I waited for his kiss, waited for the heat that his fingertips promised.

  But it never came. Sighing he rolled off of me and stood up.

  “Want to grab breakfast?” He stretched without turning to look at me.

  Sitting up, I stared after him, wondering what had happened. I hadn’t been far from begging him to ravage me and he was worried about pancakes and eggs.

  “Sure.” I ran a hand through my hair.

  “I’m going to hit the shower and then we can head out. I saw a place to get some food on the next block.” He grabbed a shirt from the bag and went straight to the bathroom.

  “Well.” I threw the blanket off and stood up. Muttering to myself I went through the bag and found a pair of jeans that looked like they would fit. He had guessed my size better than I’d expected. “Talk about a let-down. All hot and bothered with nothing to show for it. Big bad assassin. Ha.” I slid the pants up and traded my Prince Harry shirt for a black one. It was loose on me, and the v-neck dipped low enough that I worried about the cleavage it exposed. I wondered if he’d chosen it that way on purpose. “Apparently my eyes didn’t say it all, huh?”

  I picked up my pistol and stuck it in my pants before pulling the sweater from yesterday over my clothes. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too hot today. I needed something to conceal the bulky gun. The thought of getting caught with it made me shudder. An American with no passport, wanted for vehicular homicide, and carrying an illegal firearm—yeah, that would go well for me. So well I’d end up in a cell trading homemade tats for protection.

  By the time I heard the shower shut off, I’d gone through all the bags of stuff Owen had bought. He had odd shopping habits. Then again I wasn’t an assassin, so maybe he had a perfectly good reason for purchasing duct tape. Maybe it was for something simple, like repairing a ripped bag, not for holding someone hostage. When the door opened I threw the silver stuff back in the bag and sat down in a chair. He was shirtless and his pants were slung low on his hips, revealing those indentions that made my mouth water.

  “You can never have enough of that.” He nodded. “You’d be amazed what you can do with it.”

  “Mmm,” I mumbled. I couldn’t have agreed more.

  And then I realized he was talking about the duct tape. Right. I hoped he couldn’t see how flushed my cheeks were. Time to move the conversation along.

  “I saw a guy on TV make a cup out of it once. A survival show where he could only take one thing with him, and that’s what he chose.” I rested my arms on the table, trying to snap myself out of the inconvenient attraction I felt. “Never really thought I’d need to know how to do that, but who knows now?”

  “If you need a cup made from tape, then we’ll have bigger worries than drinking.” Owen pulled a shirt over his head, and I immediately felt the haze clearing from my brain. Disappointment and relief rushed through me as he knelt to open the black bag he had brought back with him last night. “I’ve brought y
ou another pistol. I thought you’d prefer something a little smaller than the forty-five you’re carrying now.”

  “Will it be easier to conceal?” I stood up and pulled the gun from my pants.

  “Yes. I’ve also got you a real holster.” He held up a leather object. “Come here.”

  I stood up and moved closer to him. I’d never worn a holster so had no idea where it went. I’d seen movies and might be able to guess, but what if I got it backward and couldn’t get the gun out when I needed it?

  “Lift your shirt.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Lift your shirt and unzip your pants.”

  “Where exactly does this holster go?” I narrowed my eyes at him.

  “It goes against the small of your back and I’d like a little space to slide it in.” I felt myself blushing again, and he smiled. He moved behind me to lift the sweater with one hand. “Now, undo your pants for me.”

  “Since you asked so nicely.” Shaking my head I worked the button loose and pushed the pants open. His fingers grazed along the small of my back and I bit my lip. When he slid the cool leather against my skin I squeaked. “That’s cold!”

  “Sorry.” After a little tugging, he stepped back and I buttoned the jeans.

  “Not exactly comfortable.” I turned to look in the full length mirror to see if the holster was visible.

  “You’ll get used to it.” Owen revealed a smaller, chrome and black pistol. “This is a nine millimeter. I think it will fit your hand a little better.”

  I took the pistol and checked the chamber before leveling it in front of me. It did feel a little more comfortable in my hands, but I wouldn’t really know unless I fired it.

  “Widen your stance.” Owen moved behind me and adjusted my shoulders. “This will give you the best accuracy.”

  “I look like an idiot.” I was standing with my feet shoulder width apart and both arms out in front of me.

  “That’s because you think you should look like they do in the movies.” Owen leaned closer to me as he reached around to adjust my arms. “Strong arms. You don’t want the gun to come back and hit you in the face.”

  “So is this how you stand when you shoot?” I tried to not focus on the way his body wrapped around mine.

  “Of course not.” He stepped back and I turned to look at him. “I can’t look stupid while I’m out killing people.”

  “Gee, thanks.” I reached behind me and tried to put the pistol into the holster. The sweater caught on the gun and I fumbled for a minute before getting it safely put away. Well, safe was a matter of opinion. The gun was loaded, with one in the chamber, and currently pointed down my ass crack.

  “You don’t want to be comfortable with them.” Owen was watching me with guarded eyes. “If you’re too comfortable you’ll take them for granted and that’s when you hurt yourself.”

  “Or someone else.”

  “That too.” Turning away from me, he loaded another gun before placing it in a shoulder holster for himself. He also attached a knife to his ankle, and stuck another pistol in the small of his back. He pulled a large gun out from the bag and checked the chamber and I felt my eyes widen.

  “I’d love to see where you put that thing.”

  “I bet you would.” He looked around the room for a minute before walking over to the bed. Flipping the mattress over he used a smaller pocket knife to cut a large gash in the fabric.

  “There goes our deposit.”

  “Can’t just leave this stuff out for them to find.” Kneeling down on the floor next to the bed he began pulling things out of his bags. As I watched the growing pile of ammunition and money, my mouth fell open.

  “I don’t think all of that is going to fit in there.”

  “Only some of it.” He began arranging things inside the mattress; his entire arm disappearing at one point. “We’ll carry some of it in the bag.”

  “What, are we going to put it in a trashcan at a park?”

  “There are worse places.” He winked at me and I didn’t want to think about where he might have hid things before. “But no. We’re carrying this with us for now.”

  “Don’t you worry about someone realizing you’re carrying a gun? I mean, it’s a big deal here. It’s not like back home.” The gun on my back felt white hot against my skin. Like a beacon for everyone to see.

  “People see what they want to see.” He shrugged into his jacket before slinging the backpack over one shoulder. “And most people only see stuff that concerns them.”

  “What about the people who want to see someone carrying a gun?” I tugged my sweater a little lower and followed him out the door. “There are those out there, always looking for trouble.”

  “Then you deal with it.” He moved beside me and leaned his head down. “Loosen up a little, Ava. Sometimes you just have to roll with things.”

  “Easy for you to say. This is how you live all the time.” I shrugged and tried to calm my racing heart. It wasn’t fair that his breath on my ear would send goosebumps over my body.

  “True.” He stood up straight and put a little distance between us. “This is how I live.” His words were firm as if reminding himself. My heart ached for the loneliness that had crept into his voice. It was faint, and I wouldn’t have noticed it if I hadn’t spent the last couple of days with him, but it was definitely there.

  “But you’re right. I need to just roll with things a little better.” I smiled up at him. “That’s what I’m supposed to be doing anyway, right? Stop planning everything out and doing only the safe things.”

  “What I do is not for everyone.” He frowned and looked ahead. “It shouldn’t be for anyone.”

  “Then why do you do it?” The question popped out of my mouth before I could think twice.

  “Because I’m good at it.” His jaw tightened. “And sometimes it needs to be done.”

  We pushed out the door and stepped onto the sidewalk. A cool breeze whipped my hair around my face and I pulled out a rubber band to secure it.

  Owen led us to an entrance to the Tube, the underground subway that ran through the city. People commuting to work and running various errands rushed to and fro, while a baby cried in the background. An electronic advertisement on the wall flashed images of couples drinking in a pub, with a catchy tagline scrolling underneath. I was jealous of the normalcy all around me, but at least I had Owen by my side.

  I stuck close to my new friend, unaware of exactly where we were going or how we would get there. I hadn’t ridden the Tube much since coming to London, preferring to walk and take in the city. The maps of different colored lines were like a foreign language that I was slowly learning to decode.

  “This way.” Owen placed a hand on my shoulder and turned me down a bright hallway.

  “You haven’t told me where we’re going?” We stopped at a platform with only a few people. I scratched at my back in an attempt to adjust the gun into a more comfortable position. It was rubbing a sore spot along my waist.

  “Stop fidgeting.” He frowned at me.

  “I can’t. The thing is rubbing me raw.” I shifted my shoulder. “I’m going to get a blister.”

  Stepping behind me he ran his hands over my shoulders, squeezing gently as if massaging me. His hands slid lower in circles until he was kneading my lower back. My eyes threatened to close as he worked. If I’d been a cat I would have purred in pleasure, but I managed to control myself. His hands closed around my waist, while his thumbs pushed at the gun until it was sitting in a different spot.

  “Better?” His breath teased the few loose strands of my hair.

  I looked up into his eyes and nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Why did he affect me so much? This man, this self-confessed murderer, turned me to whimpering mush. Well, not whimpering. I wasn’t whimpering. Yet. But I was starting to feel a bit mush-like.

  “Ava, you have to stop looking at me like that.” He pressed closer to me, his eyes dipping down to my mouth. The heat of his body washed
over my back and I leaned into it, drawn like a moth to flame.

  “Like what?” I licked my lips and my breathing hitched.

  “Like you want me to kiss you, love.” One of his hands left my waist and drifted up to cup my chin, tilting my head a little more in his direction. Tilting his head down, his lips barely brushed against mine as he looked into my eyes. “I’m not the type of man you should want to kiss.”

  “Why not?” I ached to kiss him, to feel his breath mingle with mine, but it was more than just a physical need. I also wanted to banish the lonely darkness that swirled in the back of his eyes. As much as he was protecting me, I felt this urge to take care of him.

  The rumble of the subway car broke our connection and he let go of me like I was a hot piece of coal.

  “Our ride.” He motioned for me to enter the car ahead of him.

  I took a spot near the door and grasped one of the hand rails. I was feeling too antsy from the almost-kiss to sit down; too confused to sit calmly next to him while I waited for our stop. Wherever that was.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Notting Hill.” His voice rumbled close to my ear.

  “Oh, good. That was on my list of places to visit.” I gripped the hand rail a little tighter. Of course I had wanted to see the Portobello market, not hunt down the man that had tried to kill me. Life certainly had changed my plans.

  I HADN’T BEEN to Notting Hill in years. I hadn’t seen my brother in years. I hadn’t cared about it for years. We weren’t exactly worried about trading presents for holidays or birthdays. Of course, I hadn’t realized we’d gotten to the point where we were trying to kill each other. If I’d known, I would have sent a card at Christmas.

  When we stepped out of the station, Ava seemed to reenergize. She had been quiet for most of the trip, the wheels turning behind her eyes as she mulled over something. But when she saw the crowds, the bright colors and laughing people, her face brightened. As we passed the pubs and little shops, I was thankful for the crowds. It would make it easier to go unnoticed. I hadn’t told Ava much about my plan because I didn’t want to worry her.