Opening her laptop, Penny closes out the social media accounts of her clients, and logs into her Facebook. She searches for Zane’s name. He has an account, but it hasn’t been updated in years. His profile picture is of a black snake coiled around a muscular forearm. There are a few other older pictures. In these, Zane is different than the serious military man. He's smiling, having fun. There are pictures of him in nice suits holding erupting champagne bottles, or posing in fancy cars. The women that pop up in the photos are all scantily clad, with tight, tanned bodies and perfect faces. It’s a world Penny can’t relate to. She spends most of her time alone. For the past year since Ben’s alleged death, her every thought has been consumed with finding out what happened. All joy has been sucked from her life. She’s not even sure she remembers what champagne tastes like. Seeing Zane enjoying life opens up a door inside her. Even if it’s only a crack, it’s enough for a little light to shine through.
Who is this man?
She wishes it didn’t excite her, the thought of a dangerous man hunting her, hiding in her closet, but it does.
“That is wrong on so many levels,” Penny tells herself, clicking away. “You’ve been single for too long.”
She clicks away from his profile, and types his name into the main search. A long list of posts that Zane is tagged in appears in the search results, all from a woman named Nora Celick. Penny clicks to her profile, and sees a picture of a woman in her sixties. It’s obvious she’s Zane’s mother. The resemblance is undeniable.
Nora apparently likes to talk about her son on Facebook. Penny goes directly to the most recent post.
Good morning, friends. The sun is shining, and it’s a beautiful day. My wonderful son Zane has gone for a swim. He tells me no cigarettes in the house, but he’s at the lake. What do you think, friends?
The post concludes with a fire emoji. Penny ignores the fact that she would definitely like to hang out with this person, and continues searching. The post was published less than an hour ago, which means Zane could still be on this swim, which means he’s not out looking for Penny. She searches further, and finds a post from six months ago. It’s three men, including Zane, wearing swim shorts. The location says they’re at Jordan Lake.
Penny closes the laptop. If Zane’s at the lake, then she’s safe for now.
Unless Zane lied to his mother, and he’s not at the lake. Maybe he’s outside of her apartment, or at least on his way.
Either way, Penny’s not going to sit here and wonder. She maps Jordan Lake on her phone, and figures out the best bus route.
Chapter Four
Zane floats on his back, supported by the rippling, clear surface of the lake. If he looks straight up, and focuses only on the bright blue sky, it feels like he’s flying, his body mass weightless on the air. He tries to calm his mind, but he’s always vaguely aware of his pants on the lake’s shore, and his cell phone inside one of the pockets. He wonders how many missed calls and texts he has from Jacob.
Ever since his meeting at VC Solutions, Jacob has contacted him everyday. And it’s not to talk about the job, like Zane assumed at first. No, it’s to go to high dollar strip clubs to order bottle service and lap dances, or go window shopping at the Jaguar dealership, or help Jacob find the perfect Rolex watch.
Hanging out with Jacob reminds Zane too much of how his own life used to be, and of the shallow person he became. Money came easily then. Zane was paid handsomely for personal appearances and television interviews. He was even given a hefty advance for a tell all book which never came to be. Thanks to the lawyer Zane hired, he got to keep the advance.
But just as easily as fortune fell into his hands, it slipped through his fingers. When the news cycle moved on, and the calls stopped coming, Zane struggled to afford the lifestyle he’d set up from himself. He’s sold almost all of his luxury possessions. The last thing he has is the house where he and Nora live. And he’ll lose that too without this job.
Zane has the sense that Jacob is doing all this on purpose. He’s giving Zane a taste of the good life to distract Zane from the reality of his grisly task.
Killing, is that my only worth? Is that my only purpose in life?
Whether he likes it or not, the universe is sending him a big fat “yes” as the answer to that question. This morning, Zane signed the NDA with VC Solutions, and a million dollars was wired to his account. Just like that, and he’s a millionaire. After signing, Vincent had talked at length about the danger of this target, how thousands of lives were at risk. There were even government officials at the signing who expressed to him the gravity of this case. America needed a hero like Zane to save them all.
Some think it’s easy to kill, and hell, Zane makes it look easy, but that’s only from the outside looking in. Every person that Zane has killed, and he can count how many on one hand, had it coming to them. They were some of the cruelest, most vile people on the planet, and they had no right walking the earth.
But every single one, every life taken by his hand, weighs on Zane. He can clearly remember each one of their faces, the exact angle of how their lifeless bodies slumped. After killing Iman Hussan, Zane was treated like a hero, though he felt like someone who shot an old defenseless man in his bed while women and children looked on.
Zane flips onto his stomach, and digs into the water with the knife edge of his hands. He’s been out here for a few hours now, and it’s time to get back home. While he swims back to shore, the skin on the back of his neck pricks up. Even though he’s been out of the military for years, his instincts are still developed, and infallible. He’s knows, without a doubt, that he’s being watched.
He emerges from the lake, shaking the water from his hair. The sun beats down on his shoulders making his dark skin glisten. He straightens out a towel and sits on it to continue drying in the sun. His actions are natural, casual, and he doesn’t let off any hint that he knows someone’s out there. It could be nothing, just a random person staring at the behemoth Bosnian, or it could be someone who wishes to do him harm. Either way, he feels their eyes burning into him.
Zane stretches out on the towel, shielding his eyes from the sun. In his periphery, he has a clear view of the trees to his left, and the rundown cabin that hold the public changing and restrooms. He studies the area, looking for discrepancies in the colors. Even if someone is wearing camouflage, Zane can immediately detect hair color, even the whites around someone’s eyes among the natural shades.
There’s a point of light on the side of the cabin. It’s something reflective. Zane focuses in on it, and the rest of the picture takes shape. He sees the phone, probably filming him, and the arm of a person holding it.
He groans quietly to himself, careful not to show how pissed off he is. Is it the fucking paparazzi, or just some asshole looking for an Instagram post? Since his brush with fame, Zane’s been careful about not having his photo published online. While he can’t stop his own mother from oversharing, he can stop some random stranger.
With careful patience, Zane dresses. His skin is still slightly damp, and moistens his white T-shirt. He grabs the rest of his stuff, and walks towards his car. He doesn’t so much as glance at the cabin, but he can feel the camera on him, recording his every move.
At the last moment, he takes a hard right, and sprints towards the cabin. Footprints rustle in fallen leaves as the person scrambles to get away. They drop their phone in the process, and pick it up before darting behind the cabin.
Zane’s too fast, and they don’t get very far. He sees a small figure with shoulder length dark hair, a woman, rushing away.
“Stop right there,” he yells, his voice cutting through the still air.
The woman stops at the sound of his voice. Her figure sways on her feet. Zane was hoping it would be a man, so he could punch him and they’d both be square. But that’s not how he deals with women, especially one with a cute little ass filling out cutoff jean shorts.
Zane walks around in front of her. Her gaze i
s on her feet. Zane can only see her forehead and the bridge of her nose beneath the curtains of hair that frame her face. And her bottom lip, which is hanging and quivering. Despite the heat, her bare arms are covered in goosebumps. Zane feels a little guilty for scaring the shit out of her, but she can’t go around filming people without their permission.
“Can I help you?” he says, bending down to get a better look at her face. She bites her lip, cowering away.
“I’m just taking a walk. What do you want?” She turns to the side, craning her head away from him.
Zane narrows his eyes. “You were filming me. I saw you. Don’t try to deny it.”
The woman doesn’t answer. She shifts the weight on her feet, like she’s considering running away. Zane notices a perfectly circular freckle on the side of her neck, drawing attention to her soft, smooth skin, and the smattering of freckles on her chest. When he was flying high as a patriotic hero, women flocked to him from all directions. But since his star has faded, he’s been in a period of self imposed celibacy. Maybe this could be the woman who changes all that.
Zane takes a careful step towards her, not wanting to scare her off. “You won’t get much for that,” Zane says, pointing to the phone in her hand. “Magazines aren’t exactly scrambling for photos of Zane Celick any more.”
The woman makes a noise, a sharp exhale through the nostrils. A laugh?
“I’m not going to sell it to any magazine, don’t worry,” she says, still looking in the other direction. Her body language is that of a frightened doe, poised to dart away at any moment. Zane has been trained to chase down his conquests, and if she should run, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to stop himself from running after her. And if he does that, he will catch her.
“Personal use, then?” Zane says, folding his arms cockily.
At this, the woman swirls her head around. Her face, now seen in full view, is more beautiful than Zane imagined. He fights hard not to display this thought on his face, or in the tightening swim shorts under his pants. She looks at him incredulously, her gray eyes glimmering with scandalous delight.
“No,” she says, shaking her head and looking away again. Her shoulders are less tense, and she seems more relaxed. She clasps her hand to her face in embarrassment. “If you really want to know the truth, I’ll tell you. I can’t swim, and I want to learn how. I thought if I watched you, I could pick up a few tips. You’re a really strong swimmer.”
Something tells Zane that she’s full of shit, but he doesn’t care. She just left the door wide open for him to walk into. Zane notices the bright orange strings hanging out the back of her tank top.
“You won’t learn how to swim up here.” He takes a chance, and grazes his fingertips against her arm. Her muscles seize up as she shivers. “Come down to the water. I’ll give you a lesson.”
She glances at Zane’s face, then to the lake in the distance, her eyes pooling with fear. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I don’t mind at all. What’s your name?”
The woman blinks rapidly, then finally answers. “Penny.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Penny. I’m Zane. Shall we?” He jerks his head towards the lake, then walks that way, expecting her to follow him.
She does.
Penny struggles to breathe deeply as she walks across the soft sand. She can’t take her eyes off of Zane’s broad back, his muscles rippling beneath the wet white T-shirt.
What the fuck are you doing? she scolds herself. Turn around right now. Run away. Get the hell out of here.
But the more she tells herself this, the more she wants to keep following Zane. Her heart is still pounding from the shock of being caught. And that fear was intensified, and strangely, exquisitely deepened, with the way Zane looked at her. He was, is, flirting with her. It’s so obvious. She’s never held the attention of a man as divinely handsome as him. He doesn’t know who she is, and he has no interest in killing her as of yet, so there’s no harm in indulging a little. Penny will just have to keep up the innocent act. It’s a good thing she thought to wear a swimsuit in case something like this happened. As Penny slips out of her shorts and top, she wonders if this is what she’d wished would happen after all.
Zane wades into the shallow part of the lake, trying not to gawk as Penny undresses. But he uses his well trained peripheral vision to study every inch of her body. She wears a bright orange bikini that shows off her trim, yet soft, waist. The freckles on her chest repeat themselves on her stomach, circling around her belly button. She’s so much different than the spray tanned, pilates obsessed, hair bleaching women of Zane’s past. This woman is real, which is exactly what Zane is craving right now.
Penny stands on the edge of the shore of the lake. Her teeth are clenched, and her hands squeezed tightly into fists.
“It’s shallow here,” Zane says. “You’ll be all right.”
Penny laughs with sheepish embarrassment. “I’m a little afraid of the water.”
Zane steps forward, stretching out his arm and taking her hand. “It’s all right. I’ve got you.”
Zane’s grip is strong on Penny’s hand. She feels like a tidal wave could come, and it wouldn’t rip her hand away from his. The water is cool and refreshing between her toes as she steps into the lake. Zane guides her to a deeper area. As the water rises up to her knees, then waist, then chest, Penny finds herself traveling closer and closer to Zane. His wet skin is soft against hers, and she finds it comforting.
Don’t forget this is your killer, she tells herself. Instead of giving her perspective, the thought is more of a relief. He’s protecting her, not attacking her.
“You’re doing great,” Zane says. His breath is loud in his throat. Penny is so close to him, he has to fight the desire to gather her completely in his arms. He hopes she doesn’t notice the bulge forming under his swim shorts. “Do you want to try a doggy paddle?”
Penny’s grip tightens around his arm. “I don’t know.”
Zane takes the opportunity to slide his hand around her waist. “Don’t worry. I won’t let you go.”
Penny nods tentatively, and allows Zane to position her onto her stomach. When her legs kick out behind her, she brushes against Zane’s lap, and feels something hard. At first she’s perplexed, but with a flush of hot blood to her face, and between her legs, she quickly realizes what it is.
“Kick your legs and move your arms,” Zane says. “That’s all you have to do.”
Penny hasn’t done a doggy paddle since she was kid, but it easily comes back to her. Zane holds onto her waist while she swims, gradually releasing his grip until she’s moving through the water on her own. It’s been years since Penny was in the water. She’s shocked at how calm she is, and knows that has everything to do with Zane’s presence.
“Easy as that,” Zane says. “You’re a real natural.”
After a few more minutes of doggy paddling, they move back to the shore to dry off. Penny concentrates on the burning sensation of the sun, hoping to forget the desire that quickens her pulse. This was a mistake. She never should’ve come out here, let alone get a freaking swimming lesson.
But Zane doesn’t seem eager to go so soon. He stretches out his towel and sits down, patting the space beside him for her to sit down too. Penny doesn’t want to be impolite, so she accepts his invitation. She looks at the expanse of water before her. She’d been so distracted by the handsome assassin, that she hadn’t realized the gravity of what she’d just done. Being in the water is one of her greatest fears.
“I can’t believe I did that,” Penny muses, a gigantic smile spreading across her face. “I haven’t been in the water since I was nine years old.”
Zane scoots a little closer to her. “Why not?”
“A girl I grew up with, she drowned in a pond near my house. I saw the body before the police came.” Penny feels a chill sweep across her skin as she remembers poor Mary’s face, bloated and unnaturally gray.
Zane slides his arm across
her shoulders. “That’s terrible. I’m sorry that happened.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Penny says. She doesn’t know why she told him that. But it seemed right at the time. “Sorry, didn’t mean to kill the mood.”
Zane cocks an eyebrow, and leans in closer to her. “What mood would that be?”
Penny feels a deep throbbing between her legs. It’s a welcome antidote to the anxiety that’s plagued her for days. She giggles nervously, looking away from him.
“I should go. Thank you for the swim lesson.” She starts to stand, but Zane grabs her waist.
“I want to see you again,” Zane says, bluntly.
Penny’s face goes numb with shock. Inside, she’s screaming, why does this guy have to be my murderer?
“I don’t know,” she says, demurely.
Zane shakes his head. “I do.” He grabs Penny’s phone from the towel, and enters his phone number into her contacts. But he doesn’t stop there. He sends a text to himself, and his phone buzzes in his pocket. Penny’s stomach drops with the realization that he has her number. Zane slips the phone back into her hand, and looks directly into her eyes. “See you soon, Penny.”
Penny swallows, and stumbles back. While clumsily walking back up the shore, she whispers, “Shit, shit, shit, shit,” under her breath the entire way.
Chapter Five
Penny slams her apartment door closed behind her and locks the deadbolt. The excitement from being so close to a hot guy has faded, leaving her trembling with terror. The man hired to kill her has her cell phone number. He knows what she looks like. Could he have followed her here?
Penny rushes to the living room window and looks out on the street below. Everything is as it should be. No one has fainted from seeing the perfect male specimen. But Penny still isn’t satisfied. She stows away in her closet, sitting on the floor with her knees pressed against her chest. She’s staring at her cell phone on the floor in front of her toes. What if he texts? What if he calls?
Assassin In My Bed Page 4