by J. M. Dabney
“Hundreds. Do you know he killed his parents? Oh, they can't prove that he'd done so. You wouldn't believe how many people are frightened of him. Assassins with twice as many kills even refused to attempt to take him out. And I tried, they wouldn't even attempt it, and I offered seven-figures for his head.”
“If he's as good as you say, why kill him?”
“Because he's a weapon, and sometimes they make a habit of backfiring one day. He's not one to play by the rules. We were never supposed to meet, but I like to know who I'm dealing with.”
“You know you're just pissing him off. You did say he killed multiple people in the last two days. What do you think he'll do when you kill me?”
“I'm hoping he's so in love with fucking that ass of yours that it won't come to that.”
“He can find another ass to fuck.” I was surprised by how evenly I pushed those words through my lips. I didn't like the thought of him replacing me with someone else. Someone else bringing him pleasure. I sensed I was the first one to cause him to lust, and I wanted to it keep it that way. Sharing him wasn't an option for me. He was mine as much as I was his. If, not, when he came for me, I'd make sure he never had a reason to be without me.
I didn't mind dying, yet I didn't want to live without him.
“No, there's something about you Cowen can't resist. We've occasionally watched him over the years, sent in clients just to get a closer look at him. I was told multiple times that he watched you. Why suddenly he felt the need to claim you confuses me. I always believed he was born without a soul. Sold it to the devil for his time here on Earth. No one survives as much as he has to open himself to weakness. I'm not the first one to try to take him out. When you have a dog in the fight, when he gets so aggressive that he can't be controlled, there's only one option, put him down.”
I remained silent as I just stared at the man. He actually believed Cowen was some evil spirit aligned with Satan himself. Some people were just born broken, and others were conditioned. I'd seen enough clients, read their files to know some people were just evil. I never thought that about Cowen. He was controlled. Wasn't prone to losing his temper. Every move he made was a calculated and fully planned out maneuver. I'd seen how he handled himself in court, and he never acted impulsively.
Even when he punished me, it was precise and only severe enough to teach me the lesson I needed to learn. I wondered if he'd give me a lesson for not fighting Cristo and his men more. Would he be disappointed in me?
“What are you thinking?”
“Whether he's disappointed in me or not because I didn't try to get away.”
“Out of everything, your impending death, or at the very least torture, you're worried if he's disappointed in you?”
I didn't answer because he didn't need to know what relationship Cowen and I had. If he knew I submitted to Cowen's punishment, if they'd taken off my clothes before they started beating me, they would have noticed the bruises on my ass cheeks. The thin, scabbed wounds I'd earned from Cowen's whip. They wouldn't understand, and I wouldn't open myself to them trying it with me. I wasn't into the pain, but I savored it though. The pain showed me Cowen cared about my safety and well-being, that he only wanted me to do better. Cristo and his men would take it as a challenge. I'd seen the way the man in front of me and the guys who worked for him looked at me.
“You are an odd man. You actually believe that you love a killer, that he may love you in return. There's nothing in that man that will ever love. You're just a corpse that doesn't know it's dead yet.”
Those were Cristo's last words, and I was left alone as I stared up at the boarded window. The wind whistled through the cracks in the panes. I'd peered out the window after I'd arrived and seen nothing but falling down buildings. From the location, I'd assumed we were in the warehouse district in one of the abandoned hotels near the docks, but I hadn't heard the blaring of horns. I'd checked to see if I could escape, but there was nothing outside the window but a sheer drop.
I curled up on the lumpy, stained mattress, grimacing at what might infest it. I was exhausted and hurt, all I could think about was sleep and when I could go home. Soon, I kept telling myself. He would be there soon, and everything would be put right again.
Chapter Nineteen
Cowen
For days I’d taken out one person after another, unmerciful to their families, but I’d left mothers and children alive. As much as I wanted to blame all the partners, I didn’t see any reason to make the children suffer unduly. I was positioned outside the last house. This was the man who was fourth in command, and I’d leave him alive only long enough to tell me what I needed to know. The ones before him were simply killing for the sake of killing, punishment for what they’d taken from me.
I crossed the street with my head down, and my hands tucked into my pockets at the chill in the air. My mask in place to disguise myself. I had no issues killing the wife, but I’d prefer to leave her alive for an example alone.
The bastard and his wife had entered an hour before, and I could see them sitting in front of their TV having dinner. They were settled and comfortable in the safety of their home. My other marks weren’t discovered yet. Cristo had lost control of his crew, or they simply grew complacent because I was one man. Purposely not perceived as a threat and I marveled at their stupidity.
It was my lot in life, my size and looks that made me unremarkable. I was in no way scary in outward appearance. My former employer had forgotten the monster he’d hired. Cristo knew what I was capable of. He’d seen my work many times and had witnessed the cruelty I could inflict without remorse. I loathed everyone except Harrison. I experienced emotions I never had before, and when they’d taken him, the last rein on my control had broken.
The rumors were spreading about the five bodies I’d left at the bar. Did they ignore my warning? My thoughts were Cristo’s crew was too stupid to prepare themselves for the war they’d instigated when they’d taken my boy. My rage grew as I imagined what they were doing to him. His body was meant only for my hands—my pain.
I knocked on the door and waited patiently. When the door opened, I slipped my hands from my pocket with my weapon at the ready. Then I placed my suppressor between his eyes.
“Good evening, I hope I’m not interrupting. Oh, yes, I’d love to come in. Back up.” I proceeded forward, and the larger man had his hands in the air.
“He’s not here.”
“I already know that, but what I don’t know is where my boy is. I’m surprised Cristo and you all thought it would be prudent to take something from me.”
“Haven’t you drawn enough blood?”
I would’ve laughed at the absurdity of his question if I’d known how. I closed the door behind me without taking my attention away from him. “Please inform your wife to make no silly attempts to call the authorities. It’ll make it harder on you and her.”
When we entered the living room, the woman started to scream and was quickly hushed by her husband. He rushed to her side, and I went to the windows to jerk the curtains together to shield us from the people outside. I had a lot to get done in a short period of time, and disruptions weren’t ideal.
“Now, why don’t you tell me where my boy is?”
“I’m not telling you shit.”
“Not the answer I wanted.” I squeezed the trigger and took out his wife’s knee, and she screamed. “I take out the other if you don’t quiet her now.”
The man covered her mouth and quietly whispered in her ear as if to soothe her. It would almost be a sweet display if I didn’t know he’d spent the afternoon with a couple of women he fucked at least twice a week. Loyalty was a lost art.
“Where is my boy?”
“You’ll never get him back. If they haven’t beaten him to death by now, they’ve used up his ass.”
I surged forward and jerked his wife out of his arms. I held her up by her hair and kicked the back of her bad knee to drive her to the floor. I was unused to the rag
e. I could deal with a lot but my boy made me feel—care, and I didn’t understand how to process. Time was running out. Cristo had left messages, and I’d sent ones of my own, but I couldn’t allow them to find me first. He would be lost to me because they’d continue to keep him hidden for insurance.
I bent at the waist and pressed my face next to hers and looked at the bastard. It was clear to see he was ready to attack at the smallest opening. “You have a very beautiful wife. How would you feel if I took her from you?”
I drew the silencer down her cheek as I kept eye contact with him. She whimpered so prettily and her face wet with tears brought on by fear and pain.
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“You’d be surprised at what I’d dare. I’ve never had anything that belonged to me before. Dying is something I accept as my due for the life I lead, but my boy had nothing to do with it.”
“You can’t tell Cristo no.”
“I’ll take her apart piece by piece just as Cristo threatened to do. Where should I start?” I asked as I set my weapon aside and unsheathed my knife.
I placed the tip just below the tender skin beneath her eye. “Maybe something for you and her to remember me by?” I nicked her with the slightest pressure. “Are you going to tell me what I need or do I take the eye first?”
“Fuck, fine, fine. They’re hiding in the Beauregard Hotel, near the docks.”
I was almost disappointed at how easily he gave in, but I returned my knife to the sheath inside my boot. I picked up my gun. “Do you love your husband?”
“Ye-yes,” she stuttered out.
“Tell him.”
I slowly raised my arm and aimed.
“I love you.”
As soon as the bastard started to open his mouth, I compressed the trigger, and she screamed. She dragged herself to where he was sprawled on the couch. A hole between his eyes. I eased to my feet and stared down at her. She was weeping and holding the corpse of her husband. I grew bored with her blubbering.
“You didn’t have to kill him. He told you what you wanted to know.”
“You’re wrong. His boss needed an example of what I’m capable of because it appears Cristo has forgotten. Would you like to join him?”
“No.”
“Remember that, make sure you pass it on to Cristo. If you say anything to anyone, I’ll come back. Your only purpose is to make sure Cristo knows there’s no one else between him and I. They started this war…I’m simply finishing it.”
I left without a backward glance and walked out onto the quiet street. No movement caught my attention—it didn’t appear as if anyone was coming to the woman’s rescue. I seamlessly disappeared into the shadows and removed my mask as I turned the corner at the end of the block.
The hotel was abandoned. I owned several properties nearby. The buildings were slowly crumbling under years of neglect.
Soon I’d have my boy back where he belonged. I tried not to think about what they were doing to him. My mind needed to be free to focus—to plan. Sirens blared in the distance as I reached my car which I’d parked a mile away. I slipped into the front seat, started the engine and returned to the safe house I’d crashed in since I’d started this operation.
Harrison just needed to hold on a bit longer and then I’d never let him out of my sight. I still didn’t understand the power he had over me. I was unused to caring for anyone other than me and most days I rarely cared whether I survived. I wanted him home, curled up in bed beside me, feeling the weight of his larger body. I craved him as if he were an addiction I couldn’t break free from. For that reason alone, I should let him go, leave him to whatever fate Cristo had for him. Yet, I couldn’t do that. I owned him. His presence was a weakness, but one I’d gladly accept just to have him. When this was over, I’d figure out what made me want him in my life—my bed.
First, I needed to bring him home.
Chapter Twenty
Harrison
The agony was almost too much. I cried and screamed, begging for them to stop as blows pummeled my ribs as one man beat me and the other two held me against the wall. Cristo was seated calmly on a chair checking his nails and appearing bored.
“We can do this a hundred times. Why make yourself suffer so much over Cowen? I’m quite sure he wouldn’t expend the energy on you.”
He cared for me, I knew it, and he’d come for me. I dreamed of him until I was rudely awakened for the next round of beatings. They only hit me enough to weaken me, but not enough to break anything, except I felt the bones would give at some point.
“He’ll come for me. How many men are you losing in the process?” My voice sounded stronger than I felt. My body weakened from the brutal abuse of the last four days. I was too exhausted to care anymore about what happened to me.
Whatever happened, I knew he’d avenge me at least. I missed him. If someone had told me a few months ago that I’d have fallen for the man who’d kidnapped me, I would have told them they were crazy. However, with Cowen, I’d found the place I belonged—the one I’d looked for most of my life.
I was tossed to the floor, and I curled there on my side trying to control my breathing. As long as I didn’t move, I didn’t hurt as much. The taste of blood filled my mouth from what I assumed was a cut to the inside of my lip or cheek.
“This hero of yours is a depraved psychopath. He cares for no one except himself. Why are you so confident that he’ll break a sweat finding you?”
“Because I belong to him.”
“Like a possession? Oh, but those can be replaced easy enough. The first job I contracted Cowen to do, I needed information extracted. He skinned the poor bastard alive. There wasn’t enough left on his body to do grafts. He died of sepsis in the hospital several days after they found him discarded like trash on the street.”
I didn’t know why he kept telling me stories as if I didn’t know what Cowen could do. He’d never lied to me about the type of man he was. I knew he could wield a whip as a weapon to punish me. Yet, I also knew what it felt like when he fucked me. I loved his commanding nature. The fact he didn’t hide who he truly was, maybe I’d never be truly comfortable with a man who killed for a living—pleasure.
All I knew was I wanted to go home.
“I know who he is.”
“You don’t know shit. One day he’ll turn on you and what happens then, Harrison? Do you think the man who is incapable of love will show you a second of mercy? No, he will destroy you, and the only thing you can hope for is he makes it quick.
“He’s killed my entire crew…the only remaining members are in this building. He took out all of them,” Cristo yelled as he surged to his feet.
I forced my body to move to put more distance between us. It didn’t matter if I could protect myself. At least I could delay the inevitable. I was shocked they’d kept me around as long as they had. Each day they came to me with another update of the men Cowen had taken out. Tonight was different though. No matter how calm Cristo appeared, he had a wild look in his eyes. Like an animal turning feral at being backed into a corner.
If it were true and Cowen had killed his entire crew, then the only men standing between us were the ones protecting the building. Hope flared at what that could mean. He’d come soon to take me home. Also, a sense of dread tempered my optimism. Cowen was one man against what could be a small army of men.
The thought of him getting hurt made my chest hurt. I could lose him so easily. I really must be losing it if I was more worried about the professional assassin than I was about myself. The minute Cowen entered the building, they could kill me out of spite.
Cristo crouched in front of me and his cold smile made me nauseous.
“I’m looking forward to the look on his face when I kill you. I want him to see the moment I take his most valuable possession from him. It’s said that your man can’t feel pain. We’ll find out if that’s true when he sees the life leave your eyes and knows it’s all his fault.”
Cristo pushe
d to his feet, thankfully he left and took his enforcers with him. I lay on the floor trying to get my bearings. Was that the plan all along? To lure Cowen here only to kill me when he came? I stayed on the floor hurting and depressed as I saw the life I’d started to look forward to slip away.
I hadn’t thought that being with Cowen would be easy. The man killed people for a living, and when he wasn’t doing that, he defended people in court. I wasn’t going to make it to my thirtieth birthday. Maybe I’d accepted Cowen too easily. I still liked someone else taking charge, I loved that it was Cowen. I just didn’t know—processing it was difficult. And I felt guilty for questioning my feelings for him, and maybe I should be admitting what it was, I’d formed an unnatural attachment to my kidnapper.
A series of pops I was sure were gunfire had me jerking to a sitting position, and my ribs screamed in pain. Men started yelling, and Cristo’s was loudest among them. He barked orders and told the men out there to shoot to kill. I struggled to my feet. As soon as I was steady, the door opened, and Cristo was charging toward me.
He wrapped his arm around my neck and pulled me back to his chest. I awkwardly stumbled out of the room with his body pushing me. He positioned us directly across from the door with his gun pressed to my head.
“I knew he’d come for you. He might not give a fuck about you, but I took something that was his. He couldn’t fucking resist retrieving his property.”
“He’ll kill me before he lets you have me.”
“I doubt that. The cold bastard might have a heart and want to keep you. Wouldn’t that be novel, the depraved murderer getting soft.”
I blocked out what he was mumbling. His voice had risen several octaves sounding almost deranged. The man was mad, and I no longer knew what he planned or even if he had one. The chaos intensified outside the battered door. The screams and shouts became louder. There was a war out there, and in my gut, I knew Cowen was unstoppable.
