by A. E. D
“I had a bad dream. You died in it and I couldn’t do anything to save you.” His bottom lip starts to quiver. I didn’t realize me dying would have such a toll on him, even in a dream. Instantly I swing my arms around him when tears start to slide down his face. I feel a clenching inside my chest, a feeling I’ve never felt before. But now is not the time to freak out about an unknown feeling. Keenan needs all of me right now, not just half of me.
I step back, grabbing his hand and pulling him along with me to my bedroom. He wipes his eyes along the way, clearing away any evidence that he ever cried. My tough little Keenan is starting to come back.
“What are you doing?” He asks with so much emotion in his voice. I can’t stand seeing him like it. It stirs something dark in me that makes me want to kill any and everything that could have caused this. But there’s nothing I can do against his own mind.
“We’re sleeping.” I tell him, tugging his body down to the bed with me. I crawl under the covers and hold them open for him to climb in. He climbs in and lays down while trying to steady his trembling breaths.
“I’m here. I’m safe and I’m not going anywhere, ever.” I say, pulling him over to me in a tight hug. One arm goes underneath mine while the other goes across my stomach as his head rests against my chest. He embraces me in a hug that’s a little too tight. Like he thinks I’ll slip away at any second, he doesn’t let go. It’s not until a minute later that I realize his face rubbing up against my chest like he’s motorboating my tits.
“You shit!” I slap his back, pushing him away quickly, realizing the little pervert is back. His shit eating grin is back in full swing as he laughs his head off. Rolling over giving him my back, I try to hide the smile that’s spread across my face.
He’s back.
✧✧✧
I wake up to the sound of thunder crashing through the sky. Lightning strikes across, illuminating the gloomy looking skies. Rubbing my eyes of sleep, I look over at Keenan who’s still sound asleep. The poor thing was really worried last night. I check the time on the alarm clock on the bedside table.
1 pm.
Walking towards the window I stop and stare. Watching the rain pelt against the glass, I should have taken this weather as a warning.
Because what I feared most was about to happen.
I was being hunted.
Chapter Nineteen
Going underground had never been something I thought I would do. I’ve turned down three jobs this week because the first job I took, Mason was there waiting for me. I called to reschedule, giving my client one last chance to respect my rules before he won’t have to worry about them anymore because he’ll be dead. Then he started scoping out all my clients. Watching them, waiting for the chance to see me again. I had to send out so many ‘Area not secure’ texts in the weeks that followed. The darkness feels like it’s about to boil over. The hunter, Mason King, is a strong willed, stubborn, tenacious man who won’t stop until he gets what he wants.
Me.
He’s opening up a door he won’t be able to close. I’ve let him have his fun looking at each dead end, some even literally and coming up short. But now he needs to stop. He’s welcoming too much unwanted attention to me. I’m a legend among my peers and I want to stay that way. A whisper on the wind. I don’t just work for anyone. They all give me something in return, even if they’re not aware of it. Multiple gangs and affiliations have been hacked by me, gaining entry into each world. Digging up secrets that no one wants surfaced. I’m like the eye in the sky. Growing up without control over anything I did, made me hungry for it now. I need to be in control, be the one who pulls the strings. If I don’t, I feel myself unravel. The darkness starts to swallow me whole. Reverting me back into the sadistic killing machine my father raised me to be, the one who kills without thought. My demons come alive, taking over my body. They kill innocent people just for the sake of seeing their blood. They relish in their screams, the screams of the pure, innocent people who don’t deserve to feel my wrath. I fight myself, the feeling of being torn in two from the inside out hurts me far more than physical pain ever could.
It’s time Mason learnt he can’t always get what he wants. The man-child personality ends tonight and men like him only learn one way.
The hard way.
✧✧✧
Dressed in a pair of high waisted dark green fitted cargo pants, a black crop top with thin spaghetti straps and finished off with my favorite black lace up heeled calf boots. I crossed my room to the set of black polished draws in my walk-in closet and grab my infamous pair of mirrored sunglasses which sat in their assigned spot. Tying my hair back into its signature high ponytail, I move on to the next step, grabbing my new 12 inch bowie knife. I had this one hand crafted specially for Mason. The silver blade glistens in the light as my fingers glide down the blade to the black handle. I had the guard and butt of the knife made in gold, along with a little message engraved along the edge of the blade.
I hope he likes my gift.
Smirking, I make my way back through the bedroom to the living room. Sitting on the edge of the couch, I grab my iPad to check up on Masons apartment. I hacked his cameras the night I killed Xavier. The big mouth that he is, spread my name like wildfire trying to find out who I am. I’ve had dozens of calls asking to hire me. Once I decided I was going to teach him a lesson, I surveilled him for a few weeks. Learning his habits, his jobs and routine and tonight would be the night I strike. I watch as he does the last button up on his white dress shirt before he checks himself out in the mirror. With a nod of his head, he approves his outfit before notifying his roommate of his nightly plans. Seems like Monty’s having a quiet night in, just what I need.
I take my bike, making sure I have a quick escape if something goes wrong. Always have a backup plan is my number one rule. These rules keep me safe. But tonight isn’t a job, tonight is personal. Mason needs a lesson in minding his own business. His last name may be King, but he’s not my king. I won my freedom. Never again will someone ever rule over me. I had to fight through blood, sweat and tears to be free. Free to live my life without strings on me, free to feel like I’m not a puppet controlled by a greater force.
✧✧✧
Standing at the entrance to the thirty-floor apartment building, a sense of euphoria takes over. The joy of being able to feed the darkness makes a smile spread across my face. I’ve never abstained from doing what I was born to do for so long before. Making sure my sunglasses are securely on my head, I make my way through the glass doors. Walking through the pristine lobby, I head towards the bronze encrusted elevator. With my heels clicking against the marbled tiles, the door dings open. Unlike my apartment, Mason doesn’t need a personal code or key card to be taken to his floor, leaving it to be free for anyone to access. He thinks he’s untouchable, untraceable, well tonight I’m going to prove just how wrong he really is.
Like mine, there are only two apartments on his floor, which is the top floor. Walking up to his door, I pull my phone out and remotely hack the front door keypad. With a beep, the lock flashes green and I push through. I find Monty sitting on the couch with his back to me. Headphones cover his ears as his horrendous music blasts through the speakers, loud enough for me to hear across the room. Like a snake, I silently move up behind him before I strike. Pressing the knife firmly against his throat from behind, he stills instantly. A high-pitched sound I’ve never heard before leaves his mouth, reminding me of a mouse that’s been caught between the sharp teeth of a cat.
Slowly I lift my free left hand up to remove his headphones. His hands lay frozen on his laptop, unsure of the danger that stands behind him. I can feel him swallowing harshly against the knife at his throat. His right hand slowly inches towards the space between the couch cushions. I push the knife harder against his throat, hard enough to cut the skin but light enough not to cause damage. Maybe a small scar but he’ll be fine.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. You don’t bring a gun to
knife fight, now do you?” I taunt. A light chuckle escapes my lips when Monty stills further. Shocked that I knew what he was reaching for. The Sig P226 9mm handgun that rests beneath the cushions. Although they lack outside security, they do have some common sense to hide weapons around the house. Unfortunately for them, I know all their hiding spots.
“W..who are you?” His voice strains as the knife cuts into his throat further the more he talks.
“Save your breath, Monty. I’m here to deliver a message.” Stupidly, he continues to talk.
“Why?” A smart question, I’ll give him that. I was expecting another repetitive question. For that, I’ll reward him. I loosen my hold on the knife against his throat, he visibly relaxes but only slightly. After all, the knife is still there.
“Because Monty, I don’t like being hunted.” My calm voice strains to keep my anger contained. A gasp sounds from beneath me, he knows who I am now.
“I told him not to, I swear. He wouldn’t listen. He’s stubborn like that. If he wants something, he goes after it.” He pleas. Thinking maybe if he shifts the blame off from himself, he’ll be fine. But he thought wrong. There was a reason I chose to come tonight, because with Mason gone, I had Monty all to myself.
“That didn’t stop you from searching online now did it? Did you really think Joe was going to keep information about me on his laptop?” I ask. Again, he gasps. Realizing I know exactly what he’s been up to.
“Mason is like a rabid dog. Do you know what people do to rabid dogs?” I ask leaning down closer until my breath fans across his neck.
“They get put down.” I bite the air near his ear, making sure he hears my threat loud and clear. He starts shaking in fear, right where I want him.
“But don’t worry, Monty. I’m not here to kill him. I’m here to teach him a valuable lesson.” I smile.
One neither of them will ever forget.
Chapter Twenty
MASON
Kings Club was raging tonight. Hundreds of bodies swayed to the beat of the music on the dance floor. From my private floor I look out above the sea of people. My search for my mystery woman has been fruitless, lead after lead has taken me to the same place.
A dead end.
People who hired The Handler before, never uttered a single word of her. It’s like they’ve all been cursed with silence when it came to her. Back after back stood straight and stern warnings followed. She has some of the strongest men I’ve ever met, turn into god fearing men. She inflicts fear into those I never thought would crack. Even when I thought I may have hit the jackpot, people ended up dead. Very important people that could have helped me find her.
Monty had no luck finding anything from Joe. We already knew not to ask him, so we took it upon ourselves to hack his computer. Although it was protected, Monty is the best hacker I know. Joe keeps all his contacts and personal information on his laptop, but we found nothing on her. Her name wasn’t even type in.
Ever.
Not even in past conversations or emails. By the end of whatever week, it was, I grew tired and restless, agitated from not getting my way. It’s like she’s a ghost, like she’s not even real. But I know she is, I’ve got proof. Not if the healed scar on my shoulder has anything to say about it.
I found myself needing to unwind. Although I’ve had women in my bed these past few weeks, none of them have been her. I’ve never even seen her face and yet she already has my body under her spell. Blonde after blonde, never satisfying my needs. I even started fucking brunettes and women with black hair. Still, that did nothing. Blondes have always been my type, never once swaying to anything other but today I had enough. I had to get out and drink my frustrations away. My obsession for her has become stronger than I ever would’ve thought. I’m getting desperate, desperate in my search to find her. I’ve had dreams of torturing men into giving me her number, torturing Joe even. Something I would never do. He’s done nothing but raise me into the man I am today. I am forever grateful to him. These thoughts and feelings are slowly making me go insane. It’s been weeks since I last saw her and already my obsession has grown tenfold. If drastic measures are what I need to do in order to get to her than that’s what I’ll do.
Sculling my bourbon, I push off the thirsty hoe that’s currently grinding on my lap. Again, doing absolutely nothing for me. Not even a single movement down below. The blonde’s screeching voice is drowned out by my pounding headache. Slowly making my way down the stairs from my private level, I make my way down to the front. Having already called my driver, I walk towards the sidewalk and wait. Pinching the bridge of my nose, the headache is getting worse. They do say drinking never solves anything but who am I to listen to anyone else. I jump in the car and make my way back home, not looking forward to Monty’s lectures. Granting, he does drink, but he’s more of an occasional drinker. Me on the other hand, very regularly. But not alcoholic regularly, I do need to stay in a healthy and fit condition. One slip up in my health and my whole game is thrown off.
Pulling up out the front of my apartment building I give a nod to the driver and exit. The ride up was quick and uninterrupted, rarely do I ever have a noisy ride in these elevators. I enter my code in the keypad and push the door open, instantly stopping in my tracks. With my hand still on the handle, my eyes stare into Monty’s wide pained ones. But that wasn’t what stopped me. It was Monty tied to a chair; hands bound behind his back with a strip of duct tape across his mouth. My free hand immediately grabs the gun from the waistband of my pants behind my back. Closing the door as quietly as possible, I scan the room for the threat.
After searching all the rooms, I find no one. Nothing stolen, moved or touched, excluding Monty. Making my way back to Monty, I inspect him. Each arm were separately wrapped in duct tape from his wrists, all the way up to his elbows. Both hands were then taped together like he’d been handcuffed. Whoever bound him made sure he couldn’t escape. A fleeting thought entered my mind.
Was he left here for me to find?
That would explain the complex bounds and his position on the chair, making sure he was the first thing I saw coming in. It wasn't until I stood in front of him that I noticed the knife sticking out of his left shoulder, like he’d been skewered. The knife looked unique with gold shining my reflection back at me. This knife looked expensive. I reach forward and grab the piece of tape across Monty’s mouth, swiftly ripping it off.
“YOU STUPID FUCKING IDIOT!” Not the first thing I was expecting to hear out of his mouth. Maybe something like he was grateful but whatever.
“What the hell did I do? Last I checked, you are the one tied to a chair.” I cross my arms across my chest, looking at him amused. Does he not realize the situation he’s in?
“Un-fucking tie me asshole!” He snapped. Oow, someone’s touchy. Walking back around behind him, I snap the makeshift handcuffs in half before proceeding to peel off the tape covering his whole length of his arms.
“You’re lucky you wax your arms or else this would hurt ten times worse.” I say highly entertained.
“Yeah, my lucky day she said.” He says sarcastically, making me stop before I continue my job.
“She?” Walking back to his front I eye him expectantly.
“Yes, you stupid ass! I told you not to look for her! I specifically told you to leave her alone and that she likes her privacy. But noooooo! Not Mason King. Mason King, has to have everything he wants. Including the deranged psycho who tortures people FOR A LIVING!!!” He screeched.
“Wait, The Handler? This was her? She was here?!” I ask and getting more excited with each question.
“What did she want? What did she wear?” I felt a smirk playing against my lips. I wonder if she wore that sexy catsuit again.
Monty takes a deep breath while rubbing his wrists.
“She said she was here to teach you a lesson and to leave a message.” His good hand reached up and slowly rubbed the area around the knife that was still embedded in him.
“Wha
t lesson? What message?” I quickly asked. Excited to know that she’s been here, that she knows I’m looking for her.
“THAT YOU CAN’T ALWAYS GET WHAT YOU WANT!” He screeched in an unbelievably high pitch.
“Alright, no need to yell.” Damn eardrums nearly busted.
“What message?” I say, blinking off the assault.
“I don’t know. She didn’t say anything. Other than it was my lucky day because I didn’t have hair on my arms and that you needed to be taught a lesson.” He sighs. Just as I was about to talk, he started frowning, halting me.
“What is it?” I asked worriedly.
“So, after you left, I was chilling on the couch with my headphones on as usual and she came up behind me, holding this knife to my throat.” He gestures to the knife.
“I didn’t even hear her come in and I can only assume she didn’t break in if you weren’t even aware someone came through before you, but that’s not what worries me.” I find myself leaning forward, eager to hear what he has to say.
“I started reaching for the nine mil we keep under the cushion and she stopped me. Pressed the knife harder against my throat and said you don’t bring a gun to a knife fight, do you?” He paused to look at me.
“Mason, she KNEW it was there. She knew what I was reaching for. I don’t know how she knew that but she did.” I started pacing back and forth. The beast in me relishing in this cat and mouse game that’s started.
“What is the message though? If that’s all she said then what is it?” I stopped pacing when it clicked. The knife! It’s the same one she stabbed me with, except this one looks personalized. This knife had gold adorning it, whereas the last one had an all-black handle. I head to the kitchen and grab a roll of bandages.
“If I’m right, the message is on the blade.” I say walking back to Monty. I warn him this may hurt and wrap my hand around the handle, slowly pulling it out.